


The course of true love never runs smooth

by olympia_m



Series: Master Nikolaj chose his star [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, Animal Sacrifice, Assassination Attempt(s), Ceremonies, Corporal Punishment, Domestic Discipline, Domesticity, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, Gore, Historical Fantasy, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Letters, M/M, Mention of punishments, Minor Character Death, Politics, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Romantic Comedy, So Married, Songs, Sorry Not Sorry, Spanking, Spies, Tropes, Violence, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Rings, Whipping, Zombies, and cruelty, animal processing, before romanticism was a thing, but so many talks!, half of them are romantics, how more over-the-top can this get?, it feels like a musical, it has gone beyond romance into don't know what, my muse has a dark streak, not showing, so many stories, so many talks, still a comedy, stories, syrupy sweet, talks, talks of suicide, telling, things take a darker turn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 91
Words: 568,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26917021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olympia_m/pseuds/olympia_m
Summary: Elik remains an unlikely Empress. Nikolaj remains in love.ETA: changed the summary as this is far more accurate
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Master Nikolaj chose his star [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929934
Comments: 184
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fear this will have little smut. Apologies

Nikolaj studied the map of his empire. A soft knock made him turn. “Ah, Mark, thank you for coming.”

“Your Majesty?” He walked to stand next to him and looked at the map. “Planning your next campaign?”

“Just thinking. Our Empire is large, is it not?” He put his hand where Quhjan was. “With modern methods of cultivation, this land with its wide plains can become the most fertile part of Our Empire.” He traced the route to Oerestand. “By conquering this part of Oerestand, we are finally close to having access to the Northern Sea. And Caga,” he said, trailing his finger down, “is so close to the great Dark Sea.” He snorted. “Elik asked me once if I had taken Quhjan so I could attack Soldberg next, but what purpose would that serve except getting Us dragged into war with Thur-and-Foire? No, if I were to attack somewhere next, it would be either here,” he put his palm down over Vilnia, “or here, so I can finish what George started,” he put his other hand on the rest of Oerestand. “Access to the sea, that’s what I want, and trade.”

Mark nodded. “So, you are planning your next campaign.”

Nikolaj shook his head. “No, I’m not planning one. Just thinking…” He put his finger at the easternmost border of his land. “There has been unrest here again.”

“Just skirmishes between our men and the neighbouring tribes. Nothing of import.”

“There has been peace between us for the last twenty-five years. Mark, I want to renew the treaty between Us and the Most Bright Empire. No matter what it takes, I want our borders to be secure. Besides,” he grinned, “If war broke out, and we could no longer import tea, I fear the court would collapse into chaos.”

Mark nodded. “My wife is trying to persuade His Majesty to start a tea drinking club. But we could always import tea from the south east kingdoms.” He immediately shook his head. “No, forget it. I don’t think we could ever make that tea affordable to us. Tea is already a luxury, but tea from the south east? No.”

“We need access to the sea,” Nikolaj nodded. “From the Dark Sea, to the Great Gate, to the port of the Conqueror, and from there, to the south,” he traced the route with his fingertip. 

“Talk to His Excellency, the Ambassador of the Most Bright Empire. Find out what they want to renew the treaty.” 

“Yes, I will do so immediately.”

“I hope not immediately. I was also thinking…. We never finished Our Progress. Perhaps we could resume it in spring.” He smiled. Traveling together with his darling had been fun, and his darling had enjoyed himself so much. 

“I doubt we’d need to change any of the plans we had made then. As soon as you give the word, we can start again.”

He nodded. “Crowning must become the new way of solidifying my claim on my New Territories. I really can’t take any more war-caught brides. He’s quite insistent on that.”

Mark smirked. “Don’t blame His Majesty. You had looked so gloomy with the last one, I’m surprised you had managed to get it up.”

Nikolaj chortled. “I closed my eyes and thought of my country. You’re right. I don’t want to change the custom because He wants it. I want to change it because I’m tired of it. Yes,” he nodded. “We shall resume Our Progress in spring, and, after that… who knows?” He sat down. “Last winter, I may have fought my last campaign, Mark.”

“Your Majesty?” Mark frowned, shocked. 

He put his hands down on the map. “We have a large country, my friend. Perhaps, instead of expanding it, We should try to make it prosperous and rich. We should it make it an equal to the other countries.” He gestured for Mark to sit. “Our best engineers, architects, doctors, even Our best tailors and cooks come from the West. Half Our army is composed of Westerners.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not. The problem is, why don’t we have more educated, capable Bosilik men? Or men from our New Territories? And…” He sighed. “Quhjan is peaceful and prosperous, and yet they live and dress as if they were still living in the reign of my great-grandfather. Its neighbour Oerestand, on the other hand, is a thoroughly Western country. And we, we are somewhere in between. Our country should be unified. One army, one educational system, one language.”

“It’s always been Us first, Your Majesty. The rest are our slaves, just as all Bosilik people are Your Majesty’s most humble slaves and servants.”

Nikolaj snorted. “Not if He will have his way.” He grinned. “Yes, you are right, perhaps wanting to unify Our Lands is asking too much of Our Bosilik subjects, and expecting too much of Our New subjects.”

Mark continued frowning. “What did you mean about His Majesty having his way?”

“He wants to abolish slavery. He’s probably in the library, looking up the old laws, before coming up with arguments to counter them.”

Mark groaned. 

He nodded. “I agree. That bill will never go past the Assembly. I wonder, have I become the laughing stock of every Royal House, to have married such a freedom-loving wife?” he laughed. Not that he cared what they thought; he’d rather have his darling, than their approval.

“There have been other royal wives who supported radical ideas. Duchess Caroline of Anhat, who kept philosophers writing against her husband’s government among her staff. Princess Isabella of Misuy, whose wise men preached complete mortification of the flesh. And then, there was the Princess Royal Maria Martha Theresia, and her entire court, who declared her duchy independent of Valentin, and managed to keep it so until her death.”

He nodded. His darling was not that radical compared to them. 

“Besides, by now Their Excellencies will have sent their reports to their Masters. I think that, instead of a laughing stock, you will be the envy of every court once they receive them.”

Nikolaj smiled and preened. “Really?”

“Really,” Mark grinned. “Your performance at the Winter Solstice Ball was excellent.”

“I was inspired,” he laughed. “Ah, Mark,” he sighed as he stood up. “I fear there won’t be another such performance. He didn’t quite like it. Mark?”

“Your Majesty?”

“No, no, I’m not asking as your king, I’m asking as your friend. Was I really as horrible to my husband, as he claims I was? He says I shouted at him and that I almost hit him.”

Mark stared at him blankly. 

“Be honest, Mark. I need to know.”

“You were drunk. Very drunk,” Mark said instead of answering his question. Or maybe that was the answer?

So, he had been horrible to his darling. “Let’s go for lunch,” he sighed, instead of continuing a discussion he didn’t want anymore. 

Mark nodded and followed him silently for a few moments. “Perhaps,” he suddenly said.

“Yes?”

“I’m certain he has forgiven you,” he said quietly, and Nikolaj nodded, “but maybe you can support him, and make him realise you are with him? That you are not…” Mark frowned for a second. “Help him with his research. Or let me help him. I can send a couple of the best lawyers I know to help him draft that bill. Yes, it will not pass, but at least he will feel that you are supporting his efforts to change Our Land.”

Didn’t he support his darling enough already? “Hm. Let me think about it.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Mark looked like he was about to say something more. 

“What is it?” he asked impatiently.

“Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking.” He smiled. “What if that bill passes? Can you imagine what will that mean?” he said, making Nikolaj think that he was changing the subject.

“No. It will not pass.”

“No,” Mark agreed. 

The doors to the banquet hall opened. Nikolaj looked inside. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything.”

Frowning, Nikolaj went to his seat. “He should be here,” he complained. 

“He is allowed to be late, Your Majesty,” Lady Ekaterina told him. “According to protocol, that is the Empress’ privilege.”

“But He’s never late,” he said, realising he was whining. 

She shrugged delicately. 

The door opened again, and there his darling was, leading the servants as if he too was one of them, carrying a covered tray in his hands. He looked so pretty too, dressed in a form-fitting dark blue suit, that Nikolaj found it very hard to get mad at him. “The Empress should not carry things like a servant,” he still said, a little annoyed. 

“There is no such rule in the Book of Conduct,” Lady Ekaterina said. 

He snorted. “There’s your lawyer,” he turned to Mark, smiling.

Mark glanced at his wife, and nodded. “Indeed.”

Elik stopped in front of their table and bowed deeply as he placed the dish in front of him. “Will you forgive your most humble slave and servant for daring to think that he knew better than Your Majesty?”

Nikolaj smiled slowly. He nodded, even as he said, “You are my Consort, not my slave. But since you ask to be forgiven, I forgive you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” With another bow, Elik walked around the room and finally took his seat beside him.

“Why did you need to be forgiven, darling?” he asked him softly.

“For thinking that I loved you more than you love me,” Elik whispered. “I see the error of my thinking now, and I realise that you love me as much as I love you.”

He grinned. “You really are my equal in all things.” He lifted the cover and looked at a bread in the shape of a wreath, with leaves of dough and real silk, white ribbons tied around it. “What is this?”

“It’s called Lovers’ Bread.” Elik leaned closer so that no one else could hear him when he whispered. “It’s how wives ask forgiveness from their husbands back home, by reminding them of their wedding vows.”

It did look like that wreath they had used to bind their hands back at Jedlowa. “Darling,” he sighed. “I should be asking your forgiveness.”

“You have it. And now I ask for yours.”

He nodded. “And you have it. Am I supposed to break it or…?”

“Yes. And offer me the first bite.”

“Ah.” He did as he was instructed and Elik kissed his fingers before eating the little morsel. “Darling, we are supposed to have lunch. Not…” He shook his head, grinning. “Unless, you want to use your Empress’ privilege and drag me to the nearest service room?”

Elik licked his lips for a moment. “Would my Emperor want that?”

He nodded. “More than food.” His darling made to get up and Nikolaj shook his head. “I’m afraid we do need to have lunch. People will be cross if we get up now.” 

His darling smiled. “If we were alone you would really prefer fucking to eating?”

“Yes.”

Elik sighed. “Me too. Too bad we aren’t alone, then.” He glanced at the door and then sighed again. “But then, can I exercise my privilege after lunch and drag you to our bed?”

He nodded enthusiastically as he tried the Lovers’ Bread. It smelled of oranges, it was sweet and he could taste cinnamon among the other spices that he couldn’t tell apart. The texture was light; if he could eat clouds, he imagined they would be like that, delicately scented, fluffy, and tasting of sugary sweetness and spices. “Change of plans,” he announced once he had finished chewing. “I’ll exercise my privilege and drag you to the kitchen.”

Elik laughed and Nikolaj stared at him, feeling himself at joyful peace. Who cared that his darling was outrageous and the ambassadors would soon write that he was crazy for marrying a rebel in the making? As long as he had his darling, all was well.


	2. Chapter 2

A very loud yawn made Elik look up. 

Anna, one of his maids-of-honour, lowered her head the moment she saw him, but she couldn’t help herself. She yawned again. 

“This is important work,” he told her mildly, “but it seems like you need some fresh air. Why don’t you take a break from copying and have a little walk in the garden?”

Anna smiled gratefully. “Thank you.” She stood up, curtsied and ran out of the room.

Magda, Maria and Jovanna, the other three girls, shared a look. Then Magda sighed. “Can we also go out for a walk? Please?”

He nodded. 

Giving him the most perfunctory of curtsies, the girls ran out of the room. The moment they were out, he heard their peals of joyful laughter. 

He looked around. The Ladies that were on duty that morning also gave him plaintive looks. He glanced out. “It is a lovely day, isn’t it? Why don’t we all have a break?” He smiled at them. “You can go ahead while I sort my notes.”

With only slightly more decorum, the Ladies curtsied and walked out. Only Lady Ekaterina stayed behind and watched as he put his things in order. 

With a sigh, he stopped. Her expression told him that she hadn’t stayed behind as his friend, but rather as the Chancellor’s wife. As that, she was the most senior Lady of his court, and the one that carried the other Ladies’ complains to him. “What is it?”

“This,” she said, pointing at the books they had been going through all these mornings, “this just as dreary as embroidering together with the Empress Dowager. Your Majesty,” she almost whined, “You are our Young and Gracious Empress. You are Our Hope. You can’t condemn us to such boredom.”

“But only by understanding how slavery was instituted here, how it was dealt with in other countries and what are the elements of the human condition that are common and inalienable to all people, we can think of how to abolish it.”

“Your Majesty, you are asking us to be historians, lawyers, philosophers, and writers at the same time.” She suddenly sat on his desk. “We are not. We have neither the training, nor the ability to understand such heavy words.” She banged her fist on one of the books there.

Elik stared at her. “I know that women can do everything that men do. And I know that the other court Ladies and you have the ability to understand everything. I agree that none of us was trained for these things, but that is why we have the discussion sessions in the afternoon, so that we can all learn from each other and, through analyzing what we have read, we can make up for our lack of training.”

She rolled her eyes backwards. “That sounds lofty, but we really are tired of reading and discussing such things.”

“It’s only been three days.”

“So? It’s been three very long days.” She leaned closer to him. “Some of us don’t even share your vision of a country of free people, working happily for their former masters. Your Majesty, if this continues, you’ll find that a lot of the Ladies will start falling sick. Furthermore…”

He sighed. “What?”

“The Winter Solstice Ball reminded the Ladies that fucking is fun. Your Majesty, are we allowed to fuck the guards when you next hold a dance?”

Elik shuddered. “My guards are free men. No.”

“They are free men as far as we are concerned, but they are your slaves, Your Majesty. If you ordered them….”

He shook his head. Even if he wanted to satisfy them, how could he? He was trying to abolish slavery, he couldn’t order his guards as if they were his slaves. 

“Your Majesty is cruel. We can dance with the handsomest men in the empire, but we are not allowed to fuck them. It’s like… being chained to a wall, starving, while watching someone have a banquet in front of you.”

“You wouldn’t fuck them, though, would you?”

“No, I like my Mark, but some of the Ladies…” she sighed and gestured as if she were hot. “They are tempted by the fires of desire, Your Majesty, and, under Bosilik law, we cannot fuck free men during peace time.” 

He grinned. “And then you claim you don’t understand heavy words, when you twist everything like this.”

“I am not twisting anything,” she protested with a smile. “I am just passing on the message. The Ladies feel bored and unsatisfied. Our Most Gracious Empress should make them happy, or they will complain, or worse.”

He snorted. “What could be worse? Half of them hate me and would happily see me dead.”

“Elik,” she snapped, “that is not true.”

He shook his head. “It is true. My Lady, even if I satisfied their every demand, some would still wish me dead.” He lay his head on the table and stared at her. “I have tried to be accommodating, I am inviting them all at court, I am nice to all, yet I have no favourites, I have no friends lest they become favourites, and they still hate me. Or find me boring, or strange. So, why can’t I do as I please, since I will never please them?”

“First of all, the Ladies don’t hate you, or find you boring, or strange. Well, maybe a little plain and a little too meek, but…” She smiled at him. “The first year was fun. The time of war was not so much fun, but then it was fun again, until the Winter Solstice Ball.”

That damned ball. He sighed and closed his eyes. 

“It reminded some of the Ladies why they don’t like their husbands,” she said softly. 

“And now they want my guards?”

She hummed in agreement. 

He opened his eyes and sat up. “They are not my slaves. But if you and the Ladies think they are…”

She nodded hastily. 

“Then, the Ladies have my permission to woo my guards. If they accept the flirtations and advances of the Ladies, and agree to coupling with them, then the Ladies may… But only if my guards agree. I will not tolerate it if any of the Ladies forces any of my guards, either by bribing or threatening them. Their couplings must be consensual.”

She nodded. “I will make sure everyone understands this rule.”

“Thank you.” And he’d probably have to talk to the guards about it. What a mess. “I need to go for a walk,” he told her. “Please, inform the Ladies that they need not return to the study room, and that there will be no discussion session this afternoon. I will ask the musicians to come, though, so if they want, they can join me for an evening of music.”

“I am certain they will like this very much.”

“You know, in the summer, we’d have fairs. Every year, there was a troupe of acrobats that would come from Oerestand and perform at the Summer solstice fair. Do you think if I invited acrobats here, would that be fun?”

“Acrobats? What is that?”

Elik smiled. “You will see. Oh, My Lady, I think you will like them. I will see you at lunch?”

“Of course.”

He nodded as she curtsied. He’d have to find acrobats; he was certain the Ladies would like them. But first, he had to talk to his guards. He walked to the antechamber and smiled at his page, who was half-dozing in a chair, his head bathed in sunlight. “Dima? Fetch my coat and hat, please. I am going for a walk. I’ll wait for you at the back door to the garden, the one by the kitchens.”

Dima blinked, shook his head and sprang up. A second later he was running out of the room. “He always forgets to bow,” he laughed, turning towards Lady Ekaterina. “He’s such a child. Of all my pages so far, I think he is the cutest.” What should he do with Dima? A soldier’s life was not for him. Not with his careless attitude towards rules and regulations. 

“He is,” she agreed. 

He started walking towards the back, and the exit to the garden. She started going in the other direction, towards the staircase. “You won’t go out?”

“No, I’d rather get ready for lunch.”

“Of course.” For a moment he was tempted to go see His Husband, but he’d probably be busy. He didn’t want to trouble him – not when they would see each other soon. He went into the kitchen and smiled at everyone. “What’s for lunch?”

The Head Cook grinned. “Salted cod and chicken stew.”

“Ah, how wonderful. I was thinking, would you mind terribly if I came to make little pancakes for His Majesty tomorrow morning?”

“Of course, not.”

“Thank you. He likes them so much, you see.” He smiled at them. “I am looking forward to lunch. Thank you for your hard work.”

The Head Cook dismissed him with a nod. 

Elik liked everyone in the kitchen. They never treated him like ‘His Majesty’. At first, they had thought he was weird, but now, he dared think that they liked him – or, at least didn’t mind him. How he wished he had a kitchen of his own, though, where he could cook for His Nikolaj without feeling like he was bothering people. 

Dima was right outside, with his heavy fur coat, his hat, and a heavy scarf in his hands. “Thank you,” he said as he started wearing his coat. “Dima? Can you inform the musicians that I would like to hear them this afternoon? At the Blue room.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Dima rushed away, making him smile. 

He stepped outside, the air freezing and making him raise his scarf so it could cover most of his face. It must have snowed a little since that morning. He couldn’t see his earlier tracks leading to the barracks. But, despite the cold, it felt satisfying to step on the fresh, crisp snow, hear it crunch under his booted feet, and breath the cold air. From further in the garden he could hear his maids-of-honour shrieking and laughing as they played in the snow. Perhaps he had been harsh on them; he’d need to give them more frequent breaks from their work. 

Cold, sunny winter days were so beautiful. 

Before he knew it, he was at the Guards’ Barracks for the second time that morning. The moment he stepped inside their training Hall, the men stopped and saluted him. 

“At ease,” he smiled. 

Georgy offered him a cup of warm tea. “What is it? You came back for another beating?”

He grinned. “I’m not that bad.”

Georgy bumped his shoulder. “I know. Poor Vasya will have bruises for days.”

“So will I.” Vasya had given him a good fight that morning. How had practice with the sword turned into a grappling match he had no idea, but he hadn’t minded. He took a sip, letting it heat him for a moment. Ah, it wouldn’t do to just sit here. “The Ladies,” he sighed. “They wish to court you.”

“Eh?”

“They have asked permission to court you and take you to their beds.”

“What?” For a few minutes, the guards talked excitedly among themselves. Finally, Ivan took a step forward. “And have you granted it?” His eyes were glinting and full of hope. 

Ashamed, he nodded and looked down for a moment. “But they can only take you to bed if you agree to it.”

“Hurrah!” and “Finally!” were the only two words that Elik made out afterwards among the noise. 

“Some of those Ladies are…” Georgy made a strange sound, like he had been hungry for a long time, and he was finally allowed a meal. 

“You don’t mind?”

“Mind? Why? Who wouldn’t want a pretty court Lady as his mistress?” 

The guards, starting with Ivan, congratulated and thanked Elik for his permission. Truly, this country was too weird for him. But he had grown to like it. It only remained for its people to like him back, and, at least, some did. “I wish there was more I could do for you, than allow you to have court Ladies as mistresses.”

The officers moved away for a moment, discussed something among themselves, and then came back. Vasily, the most senior officer, offered him a chair. “Will you listen to what we need, and promise to do it?”

He sat down. “Yes. I promise, I will do as much as I can.” He smiled. “I don’t know what I can do, but if I can help in any way, I will do it. So, tell me, what do you need?” He took out his note book, ready to write down whatever they required of him. He’d probably manage to do nothing, but he had to try.


	3. Chapter 3

“And how was your day so far?” Nikolaj asked as soon as his darling had finished undressing him. It was impractical, but, ah, having his naked love rub himself against him was worth the inconvenience.

“Uneventful. Practiced sword-fight in the morning, then studied with the Ladies.” Elik guided him to the bed and pushed him down. “The Ladies have been in an amorous mood since the Ball,” he said as he straddled Nikolaj.

“And you haven’t?” he laughingly asked as he hugged his darling’s waist. 

Elik grimaced, making Nikolaj think that the Ball was still a sensitive subject for his darling. A second later he rubbed himself against Nikolaj. “They insisted so much on following the old customs that I had to make a concession to them.”

“What did you do?” he grinned, taking their cocks in his hand and caressing them slowly. 

“Allowed them to woo my guards.”

Nikolaj chortled. “Hurrah for the Ladies. So, should I expect an orgy tonight, after the music entertainment is over?”

“I hope not,” Elik smiled. “Although, I did tell them to not press my men, but I forgot to tell them to be discreet, so who knows. Faster? Please?”

“Then I will certainly join you after cards,” he said, ignoring his darling’s plea. 

“Without an invitation?” He laughed. “You will intrude into my party? How shocking, Husband.”

“I’d rather shock you differently,” he said, rising up so he could capture his darling’s lips into a kiss as his strokes became faster and faster, just like his darling wanted. 

Elik made a soft noise, and for the next minutes, they exchanged frantic kisses and hot, long strokes, his darling playing with his hair and stroking his back as he caressed them to completion. 

Satiated, he fell back on the bed, pulling his darling down over him. “This was better than dessert,” he grinned. “I am glad you suggested it.” He’d never get tired of his darling’s suggestions, especially when they involved going back to their room for postprandial ‘rest’. 

Elik nuzzled him. “I’m glad you agreed.” He sighed. “Can we talk about work for a moment?”

“You have an impulse?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine.” 

“Thank you,” Elik whispered as he started playing with his hair again, and rubbed his toes on Nikolaj’s legs. “The guards have complained about the length of their service.”

“What length?” he laughed. Soldiers served for life, everyone knew that.

“Precisely. Shouldn’t they serve for a fixed amount of years instead of forever? Twenty, or twenty-five years would be a good period of service. When they have finished their service, they can be awarded a pension and return to their villages. And, I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“When I was at your camp, I saw all those wounded men who will never be able to return to service. I have inquired after them, and a lot of them are now begging in the streets of the Capital. I have started putting funds aside for a foundation for them, but even if I save all my allowance for the next ten years, I still will not have enough to finish it.”

“You want that as a gift?”

“For our three years of marriage, yes.”

Nikolaj nodded. “I can do that. But as for the length of service, soldiers have always served for life.”

“It is not fair that these men who’ve given their blood for you, must live until they die for you. They should be allowed to live like everyone else after they have served you.”

How serious his darling was about it. Nikolaj couldn’t help but tease him. “Why don’t you draft a bill about it?”

“I am busy with the abolition one right now. Besides,” Elik sighed, “Any bill of mine will be defeated just because it is mine. If I write that, it will be under someone else’s name.”

Nikolaj shook his head. “You never know. But, if it pleases you, We will consider it.”

“Thank you, Husband.”

He closed his eyes. “What are your plans for the afternoon?”

“I have no plans. I cancelled the discussion session with the Ladies as they are tired of studying and discussing serious matters all the time, so I am free. And you?”

“I have no plans.” He hugged Elik more tightly and glanced outside. “It is too late to go riding. It will be dark soon.” He smiled. “Why don’t we have a long bath, and then you make us some tea?” He stretched his arms. “Your guards really complained about their service?”

“Yes. They said they speak on behalf of other soldiers too. Do think about it, Husband. Please.”

“You care a lot about my soldiers.”

“All these years, they have been kind to me.”

“Unlike others?”

Elik stayed quiet. 

“You can tell me if people are unkind to you. You are my Spouse, my Consort, my One and Only main husband.”

“I do not want to talk of them. Besides,” Elik smiled at him, “I don’t care about them. I only care about you, and how my actions can affect you.”

Nikolaj grinned. “My dutiful, kind Consort. You are too good to those who are unkind to you, if you can ignore them like that.”

“They don’t deserve my attention,” Elik said calmly. “Besides, I don’t have time to deal with them. I still haven’t found a Bosilik queen who fought with her husband. Do you know how   
many histories of the Bosilik people have been written?” 

“No.”

“They’re over a hundred. Husband, if you know of one, will you tell me?”

Nikolaj laughed. “And deprive you of your favourite pastime? No, no, you must study and find if there is one yourself.”

“Husband,” Elik whined a little, amusing him. 

Nikolaj grinned and rolled them around, so that he was covering Elik. “Husband,” he repeated, rubbing the tip of his nose on Elik’s and pressing down on him, letting him feel how he was getting hard again. 

Elik spread his legs and thrust up, his cock responding to Nikolaj’s. “I take it that the bath will wait?”

“A little. Do you mind?” 

“Not at all.”

Nikolaj started laughing again. His sweet darling, always so eager. He was such a lucky man. If anyone had told him that instead of a spouse who’d tolerate him only for the sake of heirs, he’d be married to someone whose urges matched his, he’d never have believed them. And once he figured out which of his undeserving cousins or nephews should become his heir, his happiness would be complete. No more nagging ministers – he’d make them shape his heir into someone acceptable to them and capable of leading, and leave him alone to enjoy his lustful darling.


	4. Chapter 4

Elik felt a dip in the bed. Then His Husband took his hands in his and kissed them. “My love.”

He opened his eyes. Dawn was about to break. That was early for His Husband. “My Nikolaj? What is it?”

“Nothing. You are so beautiful.”

Elik smiled at him. “You flatter me, Husband.”

“No.” He stared at him. “How is your abolition bill going?”

“It is going well. We are still working on it, but it looks better now than before. Would you like to read it?” he made to get up. 

Nikolaj pulled him back to his arms. “No. Send it to my Office when it’s all ready.” 

“Alright.” He twisted so he could kiss His Husband. “Why is My Sun gloomy?”

Nikolaj grinned. “Do I really look like that?”

Elik nodded. 

“It’s just that I have to go inspect our new fortresses to the north-west. They sent me a message last night that they are either complete or near completion, so I must go and see them, and congratulate everyone for their hard work.”

“Can I join you?”

Nikolaj made a face. “Darling, we’ve had this discussion before. Your place is here.”

“My place is with My Husband.”

Nikolaj shook his head and released him. 

Elik fell back on the bed. For a second, he thought of telling Nikolaj that he didn’t want to be in a court that hated him, but wouldn’t that create friction among the factions, if His Husband tried to sort things out? No, it was better if Nikolaj knew nothing more than his general complain, and Elik pretended he didn’t care. Who knew, perhaps one day his haters would stop hating him. 

“And now My Moon is gloomy,” Nikolaj said. 

“I’m sorry. I just want to be with you.”

He started getting his clothes out of the closet and putting them on the bed. “You love excessively, darling.”

“Is that a problem?” He was surprised at the slight anger in his voice. 

Nikolaj started laughing. “No, no, but even now, I find it strange. Husbands and wives rarely love each other.”

Elik reached for Nikolaj’s shirt. His Husband sat down and Elik hugged him for a moment before pulling the shirt off him. Then he took the clean shirt and put it on His Husband. “That’s strange for me even now. When you love someone, you are kinder to them.”

“But you can also be jealous.”

Elik froze. 

“I’m just saying,” Nikolaj continued, touching Elik’s hand lightly. “I don’t mind your jealousy. Other people, though, get crazy with jealousy, and they…” Nikolaj turned a little so he could face him. “I could go mad if I lost you. If someone tried to take you from me, I would kill them. And if you fell in love with someone else…” Nikolaj looked at him very seriously. “I could kill them too.”

“And me too?” Elik wondered aloud.

“Perhaps.” Nikolaj touched his throat lightly and then shook his head. “It is bad luck to say such things.”

Elik hugged him again. “Well, it’s a good thing that I love you so excessively that you will never lose me,” he whispered before kissing Nikolaj’s cheek. 

“Can you promise me that? No, don’t, that’s also bad luck.”

Elik kissed him again. “You really believe in luck so much?”

Nikolaj made a strange sound. “I’m not sure. But I know that when you think yourself the happiest, that’s when your fortunes change.”

Elik hummed. “I can believe that.” He’d thought himself the most miserable, and perhaps the most stupid, of all the people at Ivanhof when he’d first arrived, but then, how things had changed. He was mostly happy at Ivanhof, and always happy when he was with His Husband. “But, rest assured, I will not love another.” He kissed the crook of Nikolaj’s neck.

“How can you be so sure?” Nikolaj grinned. 

“I told you, you woke my body up. I had not felt desire for anyone before you and…” he kissed him again. “Even at the Ball. I enjoyed what happened, but I did not at the same time. I felt no desire either for the General, or the Chancellor and My Lady. And, you may argue, the General is old and fat, so, how could I? but the Chancellor is your age and he’s a handsome man, and My Lady is very pretty.” He suddenly remembered something from his youth, and started laughing. He had completely forgotten about _that_.

“What?” 

“Back home, one of my friends once made a doll of hay and cloth to satisfy himself. I just thought, for me, it was just like that. It felt good to fuck, but without desire or love, it’s just like fucking a doll.”

“How would you know how that feels? Did you fuck the doll too?”

Elik hit him playfully. “Of course not. That was his doll.”

“Hm…”

“We all made our own dolls, out of curiosity,” Elik continued softly. “It was fun, and it wasn’t, and I only tried it once.”

Nikolaj twisted around so he could face Elik. “You fucked a doll? That you made yourself?” He was grinning madly. 

“Everyone did it,” Elik said defensively. 

“I never did.”

Your mother sent Ladies in your bed since you were fourteen, he was about to say, but held his tongue. He wasn’t supposed to know that. “Different people, different customs,” he said instead. 

Laughing, Nikolaj pushed Elik down. “So, you’re saying that I’m better than a doll?” he asked, laying over him, trapping him with his body, and caressing his face. 

“I’m saying I’ve only felt desire for you. No one has ever made me feel that, either back home, or here, or during our trip.” He smiled a little. “I thought that’s how I was, but now I know that I was just waiting for you. And that’s how I know I will never desire another. You were made for me.”

Nikolaj stopped laughing, and studied him seriously. “Only you,” he muttered, shaking his head with disbelief. “Are you sure that I was made for you? You’re younger than me. Perhaps you were made for me?” he smiled softly.

“Perhaps,” Elik conceded for a moment. “But you’ve had mistresses in the past and you enjoyed coupling with them. How do I differ from them, and our relationship, so that you can say that I was made for you?”

Nikolaj stared at him shocked. “Well,” he suddenly grinned, “You definitely don’t mind my weapon,” he said, thrusting against Elik for a moment, “and you’re always eager for our couplings. Half the time, you’re the one dragging me to our bed. Or the bushes. Or the service rooms.”

“You did train me to take your weapon, and then I had long practice with it. Naturally, I don’t mind it now.” He smiled. “And when you come back from your trip, you’ll find me in need of more practice. I refuse to use trainings cocks. They are not satisfying the way our couplings are.” Elik hugged him. “Our couplings please me greatly, Husband. How can I not be eager for them?”

“Hm…” Nikolaj made a noise. He looked like he was about to continue arguing. 

“Perhaps we were made for each other?” Elik suggested. He thrust up, letting Nikolaj feel he was getting hard. He’d rather fuck than argue, especially if His Husband was about to leave him for an inspection tour. 

Nikolaj nodded slowly. “Perhaps you were born after me so that I could grow bored with others by the time I met you.” He leaned down and kissed him. 

Elik liked that idea. He liked His Husband’s kisses even more, slow and languorous. Before he could even begin to be satisfied, His Husband pulled away. 

“I must get dressed now, if I want to made good distance while there’s still light,” he told him regretfully as he started putting his stockings on.

Elik nodded. “I understand, but I still…”

“You’d rather lie with me before I leave?” he winked. 

“Yes, Husband.”

Nikolaj shook his head. “My darling, as tempting as the idea is, I must get ready.”

Elik nodded. He could understand, he really could. He just didn’t like it. A moment later, he sprang up and ran to his closet. 

“What are you doing?”

“If you must leave, then it’s my duty to see you off.”

“Sweet darling,” he grinned. “Ah, I will miss you so.”

“Then, take me with you.”

Nikolaj stared at him tiredly. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, not repentant at all. “I know, I know, I must stay here. But it is not to my liking.”

Nikolaj started laughing. “When you start using royal ‘we’ when you protest, We will consider it. And when you find an example of a Bosilik queen who fought by her husband’s side, We will allow it.”

Elik nodded. So far, his library searches had not yielded any examples, and this last month he’d been preoccupied with the abolition bill. He was confident, though, if there was one such Queen, he would find her. 

But first he had to get dressed and see His Husband off. Ah, how he would miss him. 

&*&*

Elik picked up His Husband’s letter again. 

_My darling,  
How are you? How do you pass your days? Are you still working on your draft? I was amused to read that your maids-of-honour mutinied and stopped writing notes for you. I know this is old news, but to me, even now, it sounds amusing. It was even more amusing today, as I read in your letter that some of your Ladies fell sick. What dreadful news! _

_Poor things, they keep falling sick. I wonder if the room you have chosen as your study room is too cold for their delicate constitutions._

_I am well. I wish I could say the same about the weather. It has been miserably wet and dreary and cold, with icy winds bringing frozen droplets on us. The only good thing about this place is the vodka. They add herbs here and so it tastes quite differently from the one we have home. Each night, I try a different one and my favourites so far were the ones with blackthorn and wormwood. The one called ‘bitter’ was awful – but one gets used to it after a few glasses._

He sighed. Being away had given the perfect excuse to His Husband for getting drunk every night. That was not good for his health. 

_Writing of drinks, do you think that it would be possible to grow wine grapes at Quhjan? I remember that the weather had been quite pleasant in the spring, and, when we were there in winter, the weather was cold, but not as bitter as it is in the Capital._

He sighed deeply. The weather back home was so much better than the Capital’s. The springs were pleasant, the summers were long and warm, the winters cold, but not very wet and the snow was light. Although, the spring was lovely in the Capital, and the gardens were magical when they were in bloom. The winters too – he’d never imagined winters could be so full of snow when he’d been young. 

But His Husband’s question meant one thing; he’d never tried Quhjani wine. He’d have to bring some for him. 

_We need to stop depending on foreign wine. Or, we need to have vodka at the banquets. One or the other. Which one do you think would be best?_

He grinned. His Husband wouldn’t like it if he wrote ‘neither’, he was certain of it. But His Husband had a point. They depended on foreign wines too much. Their country was large; he was certain that it must have had regions suitable for viticulture. And Quhjan was fertile; with the right methods, they’d be able to produce enough wine to satisfy even his alcohol-loving Husband.

As for his question? Maybe they should have both. Wine when they wanted to show their refinement and approach to the West, and vodka when they wanted to honour their traditions and cultures. As long as he didn’t have to drink either. 

_Your currently sober and loving Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

With a smile, Elik picked up his quill. 

_My Husband, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you? Even though you write to me daily, I need to know and be reassured that you are well. I pray you not be upset by my insistence; you have a husband who can’t stop worrying when you are away._

He decided not to write that he thought His Husband drank too much. He’d write to Count Njedzic, and ask him to make sure His Husband didn’t get as much alcohol as the others… No, that wouldn’t work. He’d write and simply ask him to reduce the amount of alcohol served at dinners. 

_Things here are well, and I have been busy. Refining the bill has continued being my main occupation during the mornings, but the draft is finally done._   
Should he write to His Husband that Her Grace had shown a copy of the earlier draft to the Chancellor already and he’d commented on it, making Elik produce a new draft? Maybe not. His Husband probably knew about it already. 

_I am sending a copy to you for your inspection and comments with this letter. Pray, Husband, be honest with me, and comment on it seriously. I know it will not pass, but I want to make it as good as possible._

_The weather has been exceptionally mild, so I’ve spent most of the last afternoons riding with the Guards. How I wish you were with me. Yesterday I discovered a little patch with crocuses, heralding the coming of spring. How beautiful they were. How would I love it if we could watch them together… I consoled myself with the thought that, by the time you are back, more flowers will be blooming. We will see those together._

_If the weather does not turn, I will go…_

Three rapid knocks stopped him. The door opened and Dima ran inside. “Your Majesty, General Ivanof is coming with many men with him. Perhaps a whole regiment.”

“What?” He stood up and followed Dima out, seeing the alarm on the face of the courtiers. “The guards?”

“Already down,” Dima whispered. 

He nodded. “Get my coat. I’m going downstairs to see what he wants.”

Mark walked towards him from the other side of the corridor. “I don’t think it’s wise. I have sent word to the Reds, and notified His Majesty. The Reds will be here soon. His Majesty… As soon as he learns of it, he will return.”

“I don’t care if it’s wise. I must know.”

Dima ran back, and Elik wore his coat as he went down to the main entrance. The guards opened the doors for him and Mark, and a small group went out with them, ready to defend them. The bodies of the guards who had stood at the entrance made clear that their protection could be needed. 

The General rode first into the courtyard, followed by perhaps his whole regiment. More worrying was the sight of the infantry men in red uniforms flanking the riders. 

Mark and he shared a look. The Reds were supposed to Mark’s own regiment. They were supposed to be loyal to them. 

Elik took a step forward. “General, what is the meaning of this?”

The General took out a paper. “We are all born crying and naked, with no possessions or titles. All we are is squirming, living flesh. This flesh serves us till we die, and when we die, we take nothing of what we have amassed in our lives. Just our flesh. This we all share. Yet, after birth, luck bestows wealth to one, and poverty to other, freedom to some, slavery to many.”

Elik froze. That was the beginning of his previous draft. Which one had betrayed him? One of his Ladies? His servants? His guards? Mark glanced at him worriedly. 

“Should I continue?”

Elik shook his head. 

“You know this bill will never pass at the General Assembly,” the General kept on. “Even if every nobleman supported it, no one would dare vote for it when His Majesty is against it.”

“He…”

“His Majesty is against it,” the General shouted, cutting Elik off. “How will he abolish slavery when he treats us, his most noble servants, as nothing but his slaves? He even treats Your Majesty, Our Beloved, Most Gracious Empress, as his slave. Or, would you deny that his behaviour at the Winter Solstice Ball was not that of a husband?”

His men shouted angrily at that. 

Elik stared at the General. You didn’t refuse My Lord. You took part in my humiliation, he wanted to say to the man, but couldn’t. He didn’t want to think about that night that had started awkwardly and ended horribly. 

“I come here not as a rebel, but as a restorer of our Bosilik pride and honour,” he said loudly, driving his men into a frenzy of shouting approval. “All men shall be free, under my rule, and no Bosilik will ever be called a slave by an Emperor.” He let his soldiers cheer for a few moments. 

“The Emperor led you to victory after victory,” Mark shouted, “and this is how you repay him?”

“For him we’re his slaves, not his soldiers,” someone shouted from the left. “We deserve respect for our sacrifices.”

“We deserve freedom.”

One of the men at the front drew his pistol. “I don’t have to listen to the Emperor’s dog,” he screamed as he aimed it at Mark. 

“Stop it,” Elik shouted, and was surprised that the men fell quiet. He stared at the man with the pistol until he grudgingly lowered it. “General, you say you come as a restorer of our honour, yet you come with armed men, threatening Us and all of His Majesty’s loyal servants.”

“I do not wish to threaten you.” The General rode forward. “Your Majesty, I come to offer you what you desire. Freedom.”

Elik frowned. He did want freedom for all, but not like this. He wanted to change the laws, not cause bloodshed. 

“How?” Mark asked slowly. 

“Renounce His Majesty,” the General said, staring at Elik, “and declare me as your new Husband. Together, we will abolish slavery for all, and restore Bosilik pride.”

Elik looked around. The soldiers seemed to be waiting for him to speak. “General, may I think about it?” he said quietly. 

The soldiers started shouting angrily. 

“What is there to think about?” Someone’s voice rose above the din. The others agreed. 

“What is there to think about?” The General repeated angrily. “I offer you your freedom from that monster that treated you like the lowest of the low, and together, we will free our people.”

“Our Beloved Empress should be free,” one of the captains of the Reds shouted. 

“If you respect my freedom so much, then you will let me think about it,” Elik screamed at them and walked back to the Palace, Mark and the guards hurrying behind him. 

“Shut the doors,” Mark commanded. “Let no one inside. Gather the Ladies and take them to the Treasury. The rest will fight.” Mark turned towards Elik. “Your Majesty, you must go with the Ladies.”

Elik took off his coat. “I will not. What am I? A possession?”

“The Treasury is the most secure place at Ivanhof,” Mark told him reasonably.

“Am I not a man? Just because I have the place that so far has been held by a woman, I am not one.” No matter how much they called him Empress, he was not one.

Mark stared at him, and Elik stared back. “You are being unreasonable,” Mark told him. “Guards, escort His Majesty to the Treasury.”

Elik shook his head. “I refuse to go there,” he said, and the Guards stayed still. He glanced at the window behind him, and looked down at the courtyard. “Can we shoot them?”

Colonel Rimke shook his head. “There are only forty of us, Your Majesty. We are well-trained, so we can shoot three rounds in two minutes. If all our shots found their targets, we could take 120 of them in two minutes. However, they could break down the doors in less than two minutes. What I am trying to say is, we have little chances against them. Your Majesty, you must go to the Treasury.”

“You cannot fight,” Mark added immediately. “You mustn’t fall into their hands. If they make you renounce the Emperor, there will be civil war, not just rebellion.”

He could understand that. If Ivanof captured him, the people at the Capital would follow. If not the nobles, then the common folk would, he was suddenly certain of it. “I’ll die before that happens,” he told Mark. “But, did you see? Those soldiers, they listened to me,” he said, still surprised that they had. 

Mark nodded grimly. “I saw that.”

Still, he did not want to go to the Treasury. “I…”

Symeon ran towards them. “Your Majesty,” he panted, and pointed towards the back. 

Elik, Mark, and Colonel Rimke rushed to the garden. 

“Ah,” the Colonel smiled. 

His guards, all on horseback, were approaching fast, with Vasily leading them and Dima seated in front of him. 

“Is it true?” Vasily asked him the moment he stopped in front of the door. “General Ivanof has rebelled?”

Dima dismounted and ran by his side. Elik smiled at him. “Yes.” Elik looked at Vasily. “The Reds have betrayed Us already,” he sighed. But… he suddenly had an idea. The regiment he had outfitted for His Husband. They were stationed between the palace and the Capital. “You didn’t see any of his men at the garden?”

Vanya shook his head. 

“So, the roads at the back are clear? If we send word to the Nikolajik regiment, could they come?”

“Your thousand men on their thousand horses,” Mark said approvingly. 

With a nod, Vasily agreed. “They will stand with us,” he said. “Alexi, ride to the Nikolajik. Tell them our Young Lord needs them, that his life is in danger.”

Alexi saluted and left immediately. 

“If we surround them, maybe we have a chance at defeating them,” the Colonel said. 

“How many men does he have?” 

“His regiment and two or three hundred men of the Reds,” Mark replied. 

“Even with the Nikolajik we’d be outnumbered.”

“But they are still gathered at the courtyard, and if they come around and enter the garden, they’ll have to be dispersed,” Elik said. 

The Colonel nodded. “Yes. Where they are, they are sitting ducks. They are just too many of them. If we surround them, they have nowhere to move. We could cut them down easily.”  
“And if they decide to go into the garden, they’ll have to break up their forces. When they disperse, we will take care of them,” Vasily said. “No one knows the gardens as we do, but we will not be so successful with whoever is left at the courtyard. Hm….. Your Majesty, you must keep them in the courtyard until the Nikolajik arrives.”

Mark looked at him horrified. 

Colonel Rimke nodded. “Yes, that is a good idea.”

“I don’t know if I can hold them out there for that long,” Elik protested.

“You’ll find a way. We’ll have more of a chance if they are all gathered in the courtyard,” Vasily told him. 

Elik nodded, ignoring Mark’s hissed ‘you can’t’. “I’ll do my best.” 

Vasily smiled. “I know you will. We will go around the courtyard when the Nikolajik comes. Unless you want us in the Palace, Colonel?”

“Best to stay here for now. If things get desperate, you could ride down the stairs and cut them down while we will cover you and shoot from the windows,” the Colonel said. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

A servant coughed behind them. “Your Majesty, General Ivanof has threatened to break the doors and kill us all if Your Majesty won’t go to him.”

So much for him being a restorer of Bosilik pride. He was just a rebel. 

Mark frowned for a second. “Now you must go talk to him. Try to delay him as much as possible.”

“I need to change first.”

“What?” Mark shouted at him.

“Tell the General I will meet him in a few minutes,” he told Niki. Ignoring Mark, he ran towards the staircase, Dima running next to him. “You did well, Dima. Thank you.”

Dima preened for a second. “Why do you need to change?” he asked as they hurried up. “No one will see your clothes under your coat.” 

“Haven’t you learned by now that Court is nothing but a great theatre? All the actors must be dressed accordingly.”

Dima frowned. “I don’t quite understand…” 

“Even if no one sees it, I will know I am wearing it. And if anyone does, then they will know I died an Emperor’s Consort.”

Dima shivered. “That’s bad luck to say that.”

“Bad luck will be if he storms the Palace, and drags me to the Capital.” The doors to his rooms were still open, so he just ran inside, taking off his outer fur coat as he went. “Find me my grey coat, Dima. The one with the little pearls.” Was he that good an actor to delay the General? He hoped so. 

By the time he had taken off his coat, Dima had found the grey coat and handed it to him, waited until he was dressed and then pulled it down so it hung nicely on him. Elik grabbed his fur coat again and hurried down, putting it on. 

“Was that really necessary?” Mark shouted angrily when he saw him coming down the stairs. 

“Yes.” He crossed the corridor and stood next to Mark. “It really was,” he told him in a soothing voice. “Guards, do not open fire unless they physically touch me,” he said as he stood in front of the door. 

“That is not wise,” Mark whispered as he gave the signal for the guards to open the door. 

The guards obeyed. This time, they stayed even closer to him than before. For a moment, the noise was deafening, but as he stepped forward, the men fell quiet. 

“You have been asking to see Us, General?”

“Yes. I have given you enough time to think. What is your decision?”

“About what?”

“Renouncing Your Husband and giving freedom to the Bosilik.”

“You are asking me to break my most solemn vows. The vows I took in front of Our Honoured Ancestors. How will I face them when I die?”

Some of the soldiers started murmuring in agreement. 

“My Honoured Ancestors will welcome you,” the General replied.

He looked at the General. He didn’t know if remarriage meant acquiring New Honoured Ancestors, so he kept quiet instead of arguing the point. “Then, tell me this, how is this for the sake of the Bosilik? His Majesty has always treated the Bosilik well. After each victorious campaign, he distributed gifts to the nobles and coin to the poor.”

“He humiliated me,” the General shouted. “And every other person that he called his slave.”

“And you allowed it,” Elik hissed. “It seems to me, that it is your pride that is hurt, not your sense of freedom.”

The soldiers were still quiet, curious. This must have been their first play, he suddenly thought. In almost three years, he’d never seen theatre at the Capital. Did they know plays only from books? Did they even know what theatre was? Was that why Dima had been surprised at his words? 

“I am no one’s slave, and so are the Bosilik,” the General shouted, cutting off his random musings. The soldiers started clamoring that they too were free. “Come with me now,” the General commanded him as he started riding up the Palace steps. 

His guards closed ranks around him, and Elik took a step back. “You will deprive me of my freedom to soothe your hurt pride?” He looked at the soldiers. They had called him ‘Empress’, hadn’t they? He was no woman, but since everyone wanted him to play that part, then so he would. How would the Empress Dowager have acted? “Will you let this man take me from my home, and carry me away like a common slave?” He shivered. “If you allow this, you allow any man to take away your own wives or husbands. Where is your pride? Where is your honour?”

“This is for our freedom,” the General insisted as he kept climbing.

“You already have your freedom. The Bosilik come first in the Empire, and always have,” he replied with indignation. No, he needed a different model for his role. How would Lady Ekaterina have played it? Unlike the Empress Dowager, who had used her pride, from all he had heard, she used emotion as her weapon. She even pretended to be weak and helpless sometimes, a fragile, delicate woman in need of protecting. Perhaps that could work in his favour, since an appeal to pride hadn’t. “Men, you called me ‘Your Beloved Empress’. If you love me, you will protect me. Please,” he cried out to the soldiers, “Don’t let him dishonour me.”

Someone shot the general. He fell off his horse, and the animal, panicked, ran down the stairs and into the courtyard. Then the soldiers at the first ranks moved up, grabbed him and brought him down. Elik did not see what they did, so tightly they were gathered around him, but he could hear the General’s screams and groans and the noise of metal hitting the cobblestones. 

A few moments later, someone raised his sword up. General Ivanof’s head was stuck on it, bloody and disfigured. 

A man in a major general’s uniform stepped forward. “Forgive us, Your Majesty.” He looked genuinely repentant. He knelt, and the soldiers knelt after him. 

He looked past the men, and saw Vasily leading his guards in their dark blue uniforms and Mishka leading the men of the Nikolajik regiment in their dark green ones. He nodded slightly. “I can forgive you for threatening and insulting Us, but not for rebelling against His Majesty, My Husband. That is his right and privilege. Put down your weapons now and surrender peacefully, and I promise. I will tell him how you saved Us. I will ask him to forgive you.”

Immediately, one after the other, the soldiers started taking off their weapons. Vasily and Mishka led their men into the courtyard and started arresting them. 

“Thank you for supporting Us,” he told them, and watched until all of General Ivanof’s soldiers were marched out of the courtyard. 

“Well done,” Mark said quietly when there were only some of their men in the courtyard, the remains of the general in front of the stairs, and red stains where the Ivanhof guards had been killed. 

Elik shook his head. No, that hadn’t been done well at all. “Please, tell the Cook to prepare a feast for Our guards and the men of the Nikolajik regiment, and everyone at Ivanhof,” he told Dima. 

Dima ran with a smile. 

His sweet Dima. He was quick-thinking and fast. What would suit him? He’d think of something later. “And… are the Ladies still at the Treasury?” 

“I have given orders for them to be allowed out. And to be searched most thoroughly.”

“Excuse me?”

“It is called The Treasury for a reason,” he grinned as they walked back inside. 

“While the feast prepared, we should write to His Majesty, and inform him of everything. But before that, I need to go burn that draft.”

“Really?”   
He nodded. “I want freedom for all, but not at the cost of My Husband’s life.”

“Really?” He repeated, truly surprised. “You’ve worked so hard on that.”

“And all my hard work was stolen and used against me and My Husband.” He sighed. “Chancellor, someone here betrayed Us. Can you find out who?”

“I will do my best.” He turned towards one of the servants. “Call the Chief the Police. Now. And the head of the Secret Police.” He suddenly smiled at him. “Let’s write to Nikolaj now. If I know him, and I do, he’s probably on his way here, worried not for his throne, but for you. By the time we are done, Artemi and Ilya will be here, and we’ll see what more we can do.”

“And then we’ll have our feast? My men deserve it,” he sighed.

Mark nodded, looking at him curiously. 

After all this time, he still was the stupidest man at Ivanhof. Even with His Husband trying to protect him from his idiocy, he still had managed to fuck everything up. He and his stupid ideas. “This is all my fault,” he whispered. 

“That was the General’s fault,” Mark said calmly.

“My bill gave him ideas.”

“No, His Majesty’s behaviour at the Ball did.” Mark dismissed all the servants when they were alone in his study. “He called us his slaves. It’s just a figure of speech. We sign our reports as ‘his most humble and obedient servants and slaves,’ after all. Only the General was stupid and proud enough to be insulted.”

“Perhaps he didn’t like being commanded to perform in public,” he muttered. He hadn’t liked performing in public much either, and he hated being with someone other than His Husband that night. 

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he liked it a little too much.” At his frown, Mark continued. “Perhaps he didn’t see His Majesty’s gesture as a treat to a favourite, but as a temptation. He did enjoy what he did. And so did you.”

Elik collapsed on the chair that Mark had pulled out for him and looked down in shame. “It is all my fault,” he whispered, feeling like crying. He hadn’t meant any of these to happen. None of these. 

Mark tapped his fingers on the surface of the desk impatiently. “The Chiefs of Police are on their way. They will find out what happened, how, and why. When they find out, and you are responsible, you can blame yourself. But until then, you can’t. Now, we must write the report to His Majesty,” he told him sternly.

He nodded slowly as he sat up. “Yes.” Mark was right, they had work to do. He would blame himself later, when he was alone in his room, and the day’s work was done.


	5. Chapter 5

Nikolaj had used eight horses and killed three of them in order to make it back to the Capital as fast as he could. His mad dash was worth it, though, just to see that his darling was truly safe and well, and waiting for him at the Palace’s entrance. Nikolaj dismounted, ran up the stairs, hugged him tightly and kissed him on the forehead. Then he turned to his Ministers, who were waiting for him just as he had commanded them in his letter. “Come, tell me how things are,” he said as he started walking to the Council Room, his darling still at his side. 

“Things are quiet now, Your Majesty,” Mark started. “Our investigation so far has shown that he was acting together with Major Kosuchov of the Reds.”

He growled. The impudence of the man, wanting to take his darling from him and declare himself Emperor at the Shrine of Ancestral Honour.

“The Chief of Police and the Chief of the Secret Police have prepared the preliminary reports of their investigations into the matter,” he continued. 

“Good. Where are they?”

“Waiting to present them at the Council Room.”

“And the prisoners?”

“Still at the barracks, where they are held and wait for Your Majesty’s pleasure. We don’t have a prison big enough for 1500 prisoners.”

“Shame. Build one.”

Mark nodded. 

He nodded at Ilya and Artemi and hurried into the room, keeping his darling by his hand. Strangely, no one objected this time that his Elik was in the meeting room. He took his seat, Mark offered another chair to Elik, and then the Ministers sat down. The doors closed behind the two chiefs. He nodded. 

Ilya started first. “We conducted an investigation at the General’s house and what we found was horrifying. First of all, the General had killed his main wife in order to be free to claim His Majesty. We found her body in the bedroom. According to the doctors, he had killed her on the same day that he revolted.” 

What a despicable man. His poor wife must have objected to being pushed aside. 

“We also found these in the basement.” Ilya took out a stack of pamphlets from the folder he was holding and passed them around. 

Nikolaj took one, handed one to Elik, and started reading. It was a passionate plea for the abolition of slavery, making the emotional – but true – claim that every person was born and died alone and without possessions or status, and so, by nature, each person was equal to the other. Everything else was the result of luck. Letting luck, however, determine a person’s worth was foolish when people did not start from an equal position. If they believed in luck so much, then they should let all people be free, so that luck could do its work. 

He snorted. “And did you catch whoever wrote this piece of seditious filth? I don’t think the General knows… knew half the words in this document, nor that he had the intellect to write this.” No, Ivanof had been an old man full of pride, who was good at following orders and lacked imagination. “Furthermore, whoever wrote it clearly does not share Our faith in Luck. That is blasphemy.”

Artemi and Ilya shared a look as if they didn’t dare reply. Mark studied him with a little frown on his face. He opened his mouth to speak. 

“I wrote this,” Elik told him shamelessly. 

Without thinking, Nikolaj raised his fist. At Elik’s flinch, he punched the table. 

“I am at your disposal,” Elik told Ilya in a very low voice. 

Nikolaj glared at the man. “We will deal with Our seditious Consort. Guards, escort His Majesty to his room.”

Elik didn’t dare look at him as he was guided out. 

The moment the doors were closed, Mark opened his mouth.

“No, you will not excuse him.” He pointed to the two chiefs of his police force. “Is Our Consort involved in this?”

Both men shook their heads. Ilya started first. “Your Majesty, we have irrefutable proof that His Majesty, Your Consort, is not involved with this plot. According to his testimony, this text reflects the penultimate draft, the one that he and the court Ladies were working on until last week. The last draft differs significantly from this text.” He came next to him, took out a piece of paper from his folder, and handed it to him. 

It was heavy and creamy, the type they used at the Palace for their official correspondence. Even before taking it in his hands, he knew he’d find the emblem of his House at the upper corner. When he took it, he could see it was in Elik’s clear script, with the peculiar t’s and a’s standing out. In this version, the blasphemous references to Luck had been toned down. The belief was criticised but not ridiculed and dismissed as foolish. No one could accuse this writer as blasphemous. 

“His Majesty informed us that the draft was stolen and given to Ivanof immediately after the surrender of the General’s men.”

Mark glanced at him and then shook his head, as if disgusted by something. 

“We also found these during our search,” Artemi told him as he handed him several pieces of paper. He flicked through them. They seemed to contain notes on laws, or phrases from the draft, or variations of them. All were written in a delicate, flowing hand. 

“His Majesty has confirmed that some of the notes refer to the reading sessions they had had three weeks ago. Whoever stole the draft, had been in contact with the General for weeks.”

“This does not prove he was not involved.”

“If he were, he wouldn’t have called the Chief of Police to report the theft immediately,” Mark snapped at him, finally unable to hold back his frustration. “He would have destroyed the evidence first. Nor would he have written to you that the draft was stolen from his study room.”

Nikolaj looked down for a moment. He hadn’t read Elik’s letter carefully – all he had read was that Ivanof had tried to take the Palace, but had failed. His throne was secure and his darling was well. That was all that had mattered to him at the time. “Perhaps he had no idea that the General had kept…” He looked down at the pieces of paper in front of him. “Or you mean to say that since these are not in his hand, then he was not involved? How do you know he didn’t have accomplishes?”

Mark took a very deep breath, frustration still evident in his expression. “Your Majesty, if Your Consort was involved, why would he do everything he could to put down the rebellion? The army loves him and the people adore him. All he had to do was step down the stairs and go to the Capital to get Ivanof crowned if he were involved in this plot against you.”

Nikolaj stared outside for a moment. He’d only managed to inspect two of their new fortresses before the news reached him, and yet, in each, his soldiers had expressed their sorrow that ‘His Majesty’s gentle Consort’ had not accompanied him. They still talked of how uncomplainingly, and seemingly unaffected by the stench, he’d assisted at surgeries and how he’d treated wounds with a smile of encouragement and pride in their war efforts. Elik had made each one of his men feel special. He had no doubt that had Elik walked down the stairs, he’d be riding back to a Capital ready to fight for its new Emperor, and their ‘beloved Empress.’

“The evidence is clear. His Majesty had no involvement in the plot and his actions were according to our laws. Even this,” Ilya pointed at the pamphlet, “cannot be considered evidence for treason since it contains no threats against Your Majesty. At the most, it can be considered irreverent and blasphemous, and that is the only charge we could legally level against Your Consort. Not that we can do it, since his later draft contains no blasphemy and, in any case, His Majesty has declared that he regretted this, and destroyed all copies of this ‘seditious filth’. We can’t start arresting people for their private thoughts, which is what this draft represents. Your Majesty would run out of subjects soon,” Ilya snorted. “Continuing our search, in order to investigate who was colluding with the General inside Ivanhof, we have started taking samples of the handwriting of everyone in the Palace.” 

“And we have been conducting searches to find old letters or notes, in case someone tries to disguise their writing,” Artemi said. “So far we are certain that none of the guards were involved.”

“That is a Lady’s hand. Stop wasting your time on the men.”

“We will be thorough, Your Majesty, and do our work properly. This is an important matter.”

“Of course, of course. I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

“We have also been conducting the interrogation of the prisoners,” Artemi said. He looked uncomfortable for a few moments and stayed silent. 

“Out with it,” Nikolaj shouted, hitting his fist on the table. 

“According to the testimonies of the higher-ranking officers of his regiment, the General claimed that he was acting in accordance to the unwritten Bosilik code of behaviour and did what Your Consort would have wanted him to do. He never said that Your Consort had come into contact with him, but he claimed that, your behaviour, and Your Consort’s reactions at the Winter Solstice Ball made obvious to everyone that you had been treating ‘Our Most Gracious Empress’ not as your main wife, but as your slave, violating the most basic code of Bosilik honour and behaviour.”

“They claim that they took arms to defend Our Consort from Us?” he asked, stunned. 

Artemi and Ilya nodded. 

He closed his eyes for a few moments as he thought about their words. Elik’s possible involvement in the plot and his slightly blasphemous writings were less important than the bigger problem that was presenting itself. Between the reaction of the soldiers at the fortresses, and what these wretches claimed, the true question was this. “Is Our Consort a threat to Our Crown?” 

The two chiefs of police turned towards Mark. His Ministers stayed silent, but looked at him with confusion and shock at his words. 

“Your Majesty, Your Consort saved your crown,” Pavel said, surprising him. “He is not a threat, but a support.”

Mark stared at him. “He could become a threat, if he chose to. But, Your Majesty, do you think that he would turn against you? And would you punish him for being so well-liked by the people and the army?”

His efforts and Elik’s to make Elik likeable had worked far too well. He bit back his sigh. “What would you suggest?”

“Thank him publicly for supporting you and putting down the rebellion,” Mark replied immediately, and with just a touch of frustration. “What else?”

His Ministers nodded. “You should reward him for his loyalty,” Dima said. 

“Everyone must see how faith and loyalty are treasured,” Adam said. “I could draft a proclamation commending His Majesty’s actions to be sent around the Empire, upon your approval.”   
He glanced at Mark. “We could write that he acted according to the Bosilik principles of honour and loyalty, and how his loyal behaviour should become an example for Bosilik main wives and husbands.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Mark chuckled. “Just don’t make it an exhortation for marital fidelity. Most main wives will not like that.”

Nikolaj grinned. “Especially the Court Ladies, since they only gained the right to fuck around again in the palace few weeks ago.”

Dima laughed. “Indeed. My wife has been most agreeable since His Majesty has allowed that again.”

They laughed. 

Nikolaj stood up. “Adam, write that draft. We will think if there should be a public celebration honouring and thanking Our Consort for his loyalty. Sirs, please continue your investigations diligently. We want to know the whole truth of this matter. We will deal with Our Consort now.”

Mark followed him out. “He would never betray you,” he whispered the moment they were out of the room. “But, if you think he can be a threat, then let me deal with it.”

Nikolaj stopped, feeling cold sweat break in his forehead. Mark had never talked about this one of his duties so openly. “Honestly, do you think he could?”

“No,” Mark replied immediately. “What I think is that you should let him continue with his charity works. Take him around to your next inspection, and let him follow you in your next campaign. Let him be your ‘meek and gentle Consort’, and let him show to the people how he supports you.”

“I’m surprised that he’s so well-liked. He’s not even a Bosilik.”

“My wife told me once that he treats everyone the same way, Bosilik or not, poor or rich. I think that’s why he’s liked so much.”

“And the soldiers like him for not being squeamish.” And for listening to them, he thought as he remembered their discussion about the soldiers’ length of service. He sighed. “I need to think this through, Mark.”

He nodded. “Perhaps…” He looked awkward. “If that is truly a problem for you, then wait a few months. Then let me take care of it.”

He felt a chill down his spine. He could deal with being mocked and ridiculed, but he wasn’t sure if he could have a spouse that could threaten him. No matter how beloved he was. Oh, how beloved he was. “I’ll think about it,” he said again. “You don’t have to escort me all the way up, Mark. I promise you; I won’t do anything stupid.”

“If you do, leave no visible marks,” Mark told him darkly, “or you might have another rebellion.”

“Why would I have one? Whom would they find to replace Us?”

Mark shook his head. “I’ll trust that you know what you are doing.”

“Thank you.”

With a bow, Mark left him and he silently walked up to Elik’s rooms. He wanted to believe his husband wouldn’t turn against him, but his reaction when he’d seen that pamphlet and Elik admitted to writing it, was that of a husband convinced his wife had betrayed him. And what if someone made Elik to turn against him? It was only luck that the General had not stormed the Palace and taken Elik by force. 

His Ancestors had never thought that when they wrote the marriage vows between an Emperor and his Empress, there might be an Empress who could become her husband’s true equal in power. An Empress so respected by the army, that her command could topple her husband. And now those vows bound him and had made his husband into a precious pawn whose existence could threaten him. 

His Husband was truly like the Queen in chess. Powerful, able to advance, her King’s strongest ally, but once captured, she put her King in trouble. 

The guards opened the doors to Elik’s rooms immediately. He proceeded inside, and found Elik in the bedroom, writing in his desk. He had changed clothes, he noticed absent-mindedly. Cream white was a good colour on him. What was he thinking?

The moment he walked in, Elik put down his quill and knelt before him. 

He sat on the armchair facing the desk. “Rise. Take a seat,” he said tiredly. 

Elik obeyed him. He looked down at first, but then he raised his head and stared at him. 

What should he do? It was so much easier to think of Elik as a precious pawn that had to be either protected at all costs or eliminated when he was not looking at him, when he was not staring at his clear, guileless eyes, and his calm expression. So much more difficult to decide what to do when all he felt was relief that Elik was safe, and guilt that he had hurt him.   
How could he kill him when he loved him so much? 

“If you will not speak, then, may I?” Elik finally broke the silence.

He nodded. 

Elik went to the desk. He heard him open a drawer, and then Elik brought him a tray covered with a silk cloth. Then he knelt in front of him. “I am a problem,” he said, and there was no question in his tone. Only certainty.

He nodded again. There never were lies between them. But just as he had never lied to Elik, Elik had never lied to him. Why had he even thought that his darling was unfaithful and disloyal to him? He was an idiot. 

“Then, solve it.” He uncovered the cloth, revealing a dagger and a silk ribbon underneath. “I would have killed myself but then I remembered that this is your privilege and right, not mine.”

Nikolaj shivered as he stared at the two objects. Then he looked at his darling, and how patiently and resignedly was waiting for him to decide which one to use. “What is wrong with you?” he shouted as he threw them away from him as if burned. “You think any problem can be solved by killing you?”

“Yes, since I’m the cause of your problems.”

Growling, he stood up and started pacing. “Even if I had wanted it, I could only charge you with blasphemy. The penalty for that is not death, it’s exile.”

“Then send me to exile.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. That draft is only a record of your private thoughts. I can’t charge you for writing them down. Besides, even if I wanted to punish you, I can’t. Not now. You just put down a rebellion. In the eyes of everyone, you are my most loyal subject who must be rewarded.”

Elik’s expression turned miserable. “But in your eyes, I’m a problem. I don’t care about the others. I only care about what you think.”

“I don’t know what I think,” he shouted, making Elik cringe. “The wise thing would be to honour you now and kill you later before others can try to use your power, but at the thought of losing you, my body grows cold and my heart heavy.” That was his truth, and as he spoke, he knew it, he couldn’t be wise. Not where his darling was concerned. 

Elik stayed still. “I don’t want to die,” he whispered. “But I think you should do the wise thing.”

“Damn you.” He turned back and stood over Elik. “You keep asking for it,” he said, wrapping his hands around Elik’s throat, dismayed that Elik was not making any effort to stop him or resist him. How soft his skin, was, and despite everything, how calm his pulse. He caressed Elik’s neck. “Are you sure you don’t want to die?” he asked, without putting any pressure. 

Elik stared at him quietly. What if Elik was miserable with him? What if that was the reason he kept thinking that death was the solution to all problems? 

Nikolaj felt like crying. “Well?” he asked, pressing his fingers slightly against that soft, vulnerable throat that was offered to him, trying to get a reaction out of him. 

His pulse was still steady under Nikolaj’s fingers, and his gaze clear. “I don’t, but I don’t see how else to solve this problem.”

How fearless and reckless and stupid at the same time his darling was. With a soft sigh, Nikolaj released him and sat down on the floor so he could look at him almost at eye level. 

“You are mad at me. I don’t like it when you’re mad,” Elik told him, sounding much younger than he was. 

He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you know that I had written that ‘seditious filth’? I wrote it in my letter. I wrote you someone had stolen the draft from me. I wrote you that I have enemies, and I need your protection. I need it more than ever, but…” Elik looked away from him. “You didn’t even read it,” he sighed, shoulders slumping, his whole body an expression of misery. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t think I needed to read anything after I read that you were well. That’s all that mattered to me.” He grasped Elik’s chin and turned his face gently towards him. “That’s all that matters to me. That you are safe and well.” He smiled. “And that you remain outrageous. That draft that Ivanof had? That was outrageous, a piece of work worthy of you.”

“You hated it,” Elik whispered with a tiny smile. 

“Yes. But the second was much better. It was clever and emotional. It was dangerous, though. It could make people think about slavery as something that needed to be abolished, without insulting their beliefs.” He smiled again. “I am so proud of you for writing it, but, darling, that draft cannot be made public.”

“I know. I burned all copies and notes on it, except for the one that I gave to the Chief of Police.” He sighed. “I didn’t like it that they stole my work to accuse you. I will not do that again. Ever.”

“I know you won’t.” Although he was certain that Elik’s reactionary ideas would get the better of him sooner rather than later again. He grinned. “Have I ever told you how much I love challenges? We’ll figure this out, darling. As I said, all the world knows right now is that you are my loving, righteous Consort, who upheld his husband’s honour and refused to betray him.”

“But I wrote that seditious filth. All the Court knows it, and only half of them will believe that my intentions were good.” He sighed deeply. “You must punish me, or people will think that it’s fine for them to write such things.”

“You only wrote your thoughts,” he insisted. “We can’t punish people for thinking.”

“No, but that man used my thoughts as a reason for action. That is why you must punish me.”

“I can’t. Not right now, and not later. As you said, the Court knows it. Only the Court. Outside Ivanhof, you are blameless in everything. As for the Court, no one will do anything against you. Not while I love you and protect you, and,” he smiled, “my feelings for you have not changed, even though you wrote seditious filth.” And next time Elik had such impulses, he’d make sure to read all his drafts, he decided. His darling would never have written such words had Nikolaj helped him. 

Elik looked at him strangely. “Each action must have consequences. If you will not exile me, I will leave.”

Nikolaj stared at him shocked. “You can’t.”

“Watch me,” Elik said proudly. “And I will let everyone know that it is because you are displeased with me. My Husband, I must pay for my crime.”

“There was no crime. Except maybe blasphemy, but who cares about that?”

“Husband, please,” Elik told him reasonably. 

“I don’t want you to leave me,” Nikolaj shouted as he closed the distance between them and hugged him.

“I don’t want to go,” Elik replied sadly as he didn’t resist Nikolaj’s hold. “But I must.”

Defeated, Nikolaj let him go. I told you to not promise never to leave me, he wanted to say, but what would be the point? 

“When the scandal of the seditious filth dies down, I will be back,” he said quietly as he stood up.

That scandal is only in your head, he was tempted to say, but he knew it wasn’t true. “To the world, you are leaving because this attack was too much on your constitution.”

Elik laughed. “So, I will be unwell again? I think I can manage that.”

Nikolaj nodded. “You could be unwell in one of Our summer palaces,” he said. Exile – where was that? To the cold north? Exile was so far from him. 

“I was thinking, if you allow it, I could travel. I could go home, and from there, to the West. I’ve always wanted to travel and see the world.” He sat at his desk and glanced at whatever he’d been writing with a frown. “But if it is your pleasure, then I will be unwell in one of the summer palaces.”

The temptation to join His Husband would be too great if he went in one of the summer residences, he knew it. Besides, he had seen for himself how much Elik enjoyed traveling. Ah, why did he love this strange, outrageous husband of his? “You may travel, as you wish. But you will have your guards with you.”

“And if anyone tries to trap me and use me against you, I will kill myself.”

Nikolaj groaned. Truly, there was something wrong with his darling. Why did it only make Elik more appealing in his eyes, and more worthy of protection? “If anyone tries to trap you and use you against me, your guards will bring you directly to Ivanhof. You are not allowed to kill yourself.”

“What if…” Elik started.

“No,” he cut him off. “Under no circumstances.” He stared until Elik nodded slowly. “Good.” He stood up. “Are you unwell now too? Because I must honour you in front of the Court for your behaviour.”

“Then, I am fine.”

“Good. I’ll have someone bring you down for lunch.”

“So, I am a little unwell already,” he mused, smiling.

Nikolaj sighed as he smiled back. “Yes. I so hope your journey restores your health.”

“Thank you, My Husband.”

With another sigh, he went downstairs to his room. Eliminating the threat was not an option; he’d have to protect his most precious pawn from everyone, including his own dear self. He made a note to himself to tell the guards to watch over Elik carefully. One of them should probably sleep …

At the thought, he growled. No, no one would sleep in the same room as his darling. He’d get his darling a dog. A good dog that would watch over him better than any human. He walked out of his room and instructed one of his pages to bring his games keeper and suggest which dogs would make good companions and watchers. Then he commanded the second to bring Mark to his study, and out of his room he went. 

He’d barely walked into it, when they announced that Mark was there to see him. 

“I didn’t do anything stupid,” he told him right after he gestured for him to have a seat and they were completely alone in the room. “Or perhaps I did.”

Mark stared at him blankly, waiting.

“I can’t, Mark. I can’t get rid of him,” he said, shivering at the thought of losing him. He loved him. In his own way, he loved Elik just as excessively as Elik loved him.   
Mark shook his head, huffing. 

“You want me to get rid of him?” he asked, curious and a little surprised. 

“Of course not,” Mark replied immediately. “I just can’t believe that you would consider that. Nikolaj, that man is crazy about you. He’d rather die than betray you.”

He sighed very deeply. “I know.” Oh, how well he knew that. “Mark, what if my Empress was not my equal? Would that make him less dangerous?”

Mark stared at him. “If your Empress is subordinate to you, then how is he different from your slaves?”

“What if we married again next year? Have a ceremony renewing our vows, and then made him promise in front of Our Honoured Ancestors and everyone that he is not my equal?”

“Nikolaj, you cannot break this tradition, or every main wife will no longer be her husband’s equal. This is how it’s always been with us. One wife is your partner in all things, the others are your slaves, or your free wives with limited rights. If you change your vows, you will change them for everyone.”

“So what? Would Lady Ekaterina revolt against me, leading the other Ladies at war?”

Mark stared at him incredulously.

“I love him, Mark, but I don’t want anyone to use him against me. I don’t want to have to choose between my crown and my husband.”

“You won’t,” Mark reassured him. “He’d rather die before you had to choose that.”

“I know,” he said even more miserably. And that was not an option. “Still, can’t you look into the matter? Find a way to legally restrict his power? Ivanof was a stupid man, but he had the right idea. Anyone who forces my Elik to marry them, he will be marrying my equal, and be a contender to my throne.”

Mark grinned. 

“What?”

“You called him ‘Your Elik’. You know it as well as I do, he is yours and will never abide anyone else. But if it will ease your worries, I will look into it.”

“Thank you. Also… can you think of an argument against me punishing him?”

“Punishing him?” Mark frowned. “For what?”

“For his thoughts. For his ‘seditious filth.’”

Mark groaned. “He still feels guilty about that? I forbade him to feel guilty until the end of the investigation, but he is so stubborn.”

“I know.”

Mark sighed. “What if… you did punish him?” he asked suddenly, with the tiniest of smirks. 

“I don’t want to punish him,” Nikolaj exclaimed.

“But what if you did?” Mark grinned. “Right now, you can’t punish him, anyway. You must reward him. But if he is feeling guilty…”

Nikolaj nodded.

“You could punish him, and see if that makes him feel better.” He frowned. “I doubt he was ever punished in his life, since he’s always trying so hard to follow the rules, so, maybe a light spanking with your hand? Or with a slipper? A whip…. No, I wouldn’t recommend that, it would be too hard on him for his first time… You could use a brush, though…”

Nikolaj stared at him. Sometimes he forgot what his friend liked. “I could try that,” he said slowly. “Do you think it will help?”

Mark shrugged. “It works for some people. Perhaps it will work for him. You punish him for his bad thoughts, then you forgive him, and then he stops feeling guilty.” Mark snorted. “Some people like it just for the fun. Who knows, maybe you’ll both discover that this is fun for you too.”

Nikolaj shook his head, grinning. “Who knows. Thank you, my friend. I’ll go see if you are right.” He’d try anything before letting his darling leave him. 

Mark stood up and followed him out of the study. “Remember, you must forgive him at the end,” he said seriously. 

“I trust your expert opinion in the matter,” he smiled as he hurried up to his darling’s room. 

Elik was writing again when he walked into his bedroom. 

“What are you writing now?” he grinned. “More sed…” At Elik’s hurt glance he stopped. “Sorry.”

“I’m writing to Irina. I would like to stay home, but she needs to find accommodation for my companions.”

He nodded. “That makes sense. But… I would like to try something, and maybe you won’t have to leave? Mark suggested…”

Elik closed his eyes and sighed. “What did he suggest?” He smiled at him as he looked at him. “Mark is the most Bosilik man of all the Bosilik men I have ever met.”

“More than me?”

“Well… maybe not more, but just as much.”

“Do I want to ask what you mean?” he smiled. “Because I don’t understand.”

Elik shook his head. “Maybe I’ll tell you later. So, what did he suggest?”

“He suggested that I punish you.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” he cried out excitedly. “Finally. He had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn’t feel guilty until the investigation found me guilty, but, Husband, this whole thing is my fault. It’s all my fault. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

Nikolaj shuddered. Had his darling been thinking that all this time? “Darling,” he sighed, “This was the General’s fault. He’s the one who took arms against Us.”

“He wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t seen my draft.”

“That draft was just an excuse, my love.” He walked to the desk and pulled Elik up and into his arms. Elik hugged him back immediately. “Darling, did you ever think that he would grant people their freedom? He used your words, and he used the men’s devotion to you, to become Master of Our Empire.”

“I don’t know what I thought. I was just so shocked that someone had stolen the draft from the study room. And when he said that he wanted to free me from you,” he shivered, “I just thought he was such a hypocrite. He had humiliated me in front of everyone, and I had let him, and then he claimed to…” He hid his face against Nikolaj’s chest. “It really was all my fault. I shouldn’t have liked what he did. Not at all. But I did, and I gave him ideas. And then I wrote that piece of seditious filth, and he decided that he could turn his ideas into action. Can’t you see that?” 

“No,” he said firmly once he was sure that Elik had finished. “Ivanof thought his pride had been wounded. He was one of my father’s most trusted generals. He probably still thought of me as that insolent, restless pup that would go around the camp, asking the men to teach him how to fight.”

Elik made a tiny noise that was almost a giggle. “I can’t imagine you as a child.”

“I was one, though,” he grinned. He caressed Elik’s back. “My love, you can’t control what people do with your ideas. Just because someone used your…”

“Seditious filth.”

Nikolaj sighed. “You won’t let me forget this, will you?”

“Why? You were right. It was seditious and blasphemous and…”

“Darling, should we try what Mark suggested?” he cut him off. “Will you accept your punishment?”

Elik nodded. “Yes.” He looked at him seriously. “I must be punished, because no one is above the law.”

Nikolaj swallowed hard. “That wasn’t quite what Mark suggested, nor what I had in mind.”

“What did you have in mind, then?” Elik asked him curiously. 

“Mark suggested that I spank you and…”

Elik’s curious expression turned into shocked. “What? What?” he yelled. “As if I were a child? Husband, I was horrible. I didn’t break a window by accident or steal a chicken for fun, I was blasphemous and incited Ivanof to treason.” He tried to wiggle out of Nikolaj’s arms. “You must punish me properly. I demand it,” he shouted as he kept squirming. 

Laughing, Nikolaj let him free. “Darling, you are protesting like a child. Are you sure you don’t deserve to be punished like one?”

“Why are you making such fun of me?” Elik cried as he took a step back. “Next you will tell me that you find my anger arousing, you Bosilik.”

“Does Bosilik mean ‘pervert’ in your head?” 

Elik went silent and his cheeks turned a red that matched his hair. 

He’d said that out loud? And he’d been right? Nikolaj continued laughing. Elik continued looking ashamed. 

“Well,” Elik suddenly said, expression changing again, this time to amused, “I did know what I was getting into when I married you, so that makes me a pervert too.” He gave Nikolaj a sidelong glance that made his laughter stop in his throat and his blood fill his cock. “Do you really think it will help if you spank me?” he asked him seriously. 

He shrugged helplessly. “Mark said that it works for some people.”

“Then, let’s try it.” Elik took a deep breath. “What I did was despicable. You must punish me as you see fit, and if this is what you think is suitable, then I will obey you. But if it doesn’t work, then you will let me punish myself as I see fit.”

Nikolaj hoped it would work. “Fine,” he agreed to Elik’s condition. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here,” he said, “and bare your ass for me.”

Cheeks still red and eyes looking down, Elik approached him. Then he turned around, took off his coat, threw it on the floor, then he removed his waistcoat, and finally removed his breeches, making a pile of them. His shirt barely covered his ass, and his thighs looked so perfect framed by the stockings. 

Nikolaj’s mouth went dry. “No,” he said in a low voice, “don’t take these off.” Half-dressed his darling was a vision of masculine strength made willingly vulnerable. Why did they fuck naked? His darling was meant to be fucked wearing silks. 

Elik craned his head, glanced at him, checked his groin, and then smiled. “As My Husband wishes.” He approached him, and his smile widened. “You are supposed to punish me, Husband, and not use your usual weapon.”

“We’ll see about that,” he growled. “Over my knees, Husband.”

Immediately Elik knelt in front of him, and lowered his chest over Nikolaj’s lap. 

“Hands behind your back,” he ordered, and Elik obeyed him. 

Nikolaj took a very deep breath to steady himself. He’d always find the sight of his darling offering himself in whatever way Nikolaj wanted him thrilling. His darling was a Bosilik too, in his own, sweet way. He pulled his shirt up, revealing his buttocks, two pale, perfect, firm and round globes. 

With one hand, he held his darling’s wrists, and with the other he couldn’t help himself. He caressed Elik’s beautiful ass. How soft his skin was, and how responsive his darling, shivering at this lightest of touches. His fingers trailed lower, to the smooth dip where his ass met his thighs and travelled down his strong thighs. 

“Even if I didn’t know you’d spent your mornings riding, I’d know just by your thighs,” he whispered. “You have a rider’s legs, darling, strong and powerful. Yet, you don’t run away from me but you submit to me.”

Before Elik could reply he smacked him hard across the left cheek. “Because you’ve been bad, darling,” he said. “Very bad,” he said as he hit on the right cheek. “You wrote seditious, blasphemous filth,” he continued, alternating hits on Elik’s flesh and watching it turn pale pink with fascination. “Disgusting words. You mocked fate, and called us stupid for believing in it.” 

Elik didn’t try to defend himself. The more Nikolaj spanked him, though, the more his ass turned from pink to light red. And the more he shivered, rubbing his body against Nikolaj’s, and arousing him despite himself. He’d never been excited by causing pain to his partners, yet, his darling’s helpless squirming made him so hard. 

Whom was he really punishing? 

“You were horrible,” he continued. “You incited that stupid man into rebelling against Us. You gave him the ideas and the words, and you led him on.”

Elik gasped. 

“You showed him what he could have, didn’t you? You filthy, shameless slut. Your body was made to be fucked,” he continued, excited beyond belief because it was true. His darling had a body made for fucking. “So responsive,” he smacked him on the thighs, making him cry out, “so lustful, so eager.” He went back to Elik’s red ass, trying to see how red he could make him. “Even the most seasoned whore cannot compete with you in lewdness. Poor Ivanof, how could he have a chance against you, you clever, tempting whore. No, this is all your fault,” he continued. 

Elik trembled violently. His pained moans and gasps changed to sobs in a second.

“Darling?”

“It’s all my fault,” Elik cried. “You’re right. But I’m not clever. I’m the most stupid…”

Frowning, he stopped. His erection also wilted, defenceless in front of his darling’s distress. Clearly, he was doing something wrong. Wasn’t that supposed to help? What was he doing wrong? “Darling?” he asked softly, but it was as if Elik didn’t hear him, crying about how stupid he was, wanting to change things without thinking of the consequences, and how he’d let him down.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He was supposed to forgive him after the spanking. “Darling,” he said even more quietly, “Get up.”

Slowly, Elik stood up and stared at him, still sniffling. “I’m an idiot,” he whispered. 

Nikolaj pulled him into his arms again, and made him sit on his lap. With a hiss, Elik settled against him, hugged his neck and lay his head against Nikolaj’s chest, habit proving stronger than his pain. “No, you’re my beautiful darling,” Nikolaj told him as he gave him a handkerchief to wipe away his tears and his snot. “I love it that you’re responsive and lustful and lewd. I’m so lucky that my dignified Consort is better than a whore in our bedroom. I’m so happy.”

Elik sniffled and shook his head. 

“And I forgive you for being bad and writing seditious, blasphemous filth and making that idiot rebel against Us. I know you meant well. No, if someone is to blame, that’s me.”

“I’m an idiot,” Elik continued. 

“No, you’re not.”

Elik stared at him. “I didn’t think ahead. If I were smart, I would have thought of the consequences of my actions. And if I were really clever, I would have learned from my mistakes and not repeated them. I’m sorry.”

“My love, my darling, my Elik, you couldn’t have predicted that Ivanof would have been so stupid as to take a drunken command as an insult. Neither had I.” He sighed. “But I’m more stupid than you, because I knew the kind of a man he was. I should have known that my command was an insult to him.”

“You were drunk,” Elik told him. 

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned. “I was so happy to celebrate that night with you. Do you know what that night means? It is the only time of the year a married man can enjoy his wife in front of others.”

“Hm. That really excites you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Nikolaj replied without hesitation and tightened his hold for a moment. “Because I have the most desirable and beautiful and clever wife of them all.”

His darling smiled. “You are such a Bosilik.”

“Thank you.”

“When I am back, we have to think of how to satisfy this desire of yours,” Elik told him quietly. 

“When you are back?” he gasped. “You are leaving me?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Husband, but your punishment didn’t work.”

“Why?”

“Because I still feel stupid and guilty. Well, mostly stupid. The Chancellor is right; I should feel guilty when I am found guilty.” He sighed. 

“No one will find you guilty,” Nikolaj told him.

“Why? Because I’m your husband? No one is above the law.”

“No,” Nikolaj smiled, “because there is no evidence that you took part in the plot, or that you wrote that seditious filth.”

“But I did.”

“Someone stole a record of your thoughts. It’s the same as if someone stole your diary. If you wrote that you wanted to commit a murder, no one could arrest you or charge you for murder until you actually committed it.” He looked at Elik seriously. “If you had written that you wanted to murder me, then that would be treason, but you were only blasphemous.” He kissed his darling on the cheek. “What Ivanof did, that was treason. What his men did, that was treason. And, darling, I know you’re kind, but no matter how many petitions you will write, you will not save them from death.”

“All 1500 of them?” Elik asked, horrified.

He nodded.

“You can’t. Send them to exile. Make them work in the metal factories beyond the mountains, or the silver mines. Please.”

Nikolaj sighed. “What am I to do with you? Why are you always trying to save everyone?”

“Because, in the Book of Conduct it says that the Empress must intercede on behalf of prisoners.”

Nikolaj stared at Elik, surprised. “Seriously?”

“Yes. And…” Elik sighed. “I really don’t like seeing people being killed. Human life is fragile enough already.”

His kind, sweet darling. “We will consider it.”

“Thank you.” Elik kissed him on the cheek. “Husband, you have a heavy hand. Can I not join you for lunch? I don’t think I can sit on those hard chairs we have at the hall. Even sitting on your lap hurts.”

“Are you in pain?”

Elik snorted and rolled his eyes for a second, but then he nodded. 

“Can I see?”

“You saw already,” he protested as he was standing up. “But if you wish it,” he said as he lay on their bed and lifted his shirt for him. 

His darling’s ass was red everywhere. “I’m sorry,” he said, and impulsively, lowered himself and kissed him. His flesh felt warmer than usual and Nikolaj wanted nothing but to soothe the hurt he’d caused. 

“You really smell very nice,” he suddenly said, realising that the musky, spicy earthy scent that was teasing him was that of his darling. “Did you have a bath earlier?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to die filthy.”

In response to his words, Nikolaj bit him. “No more talk of death. No more.”

“But...”

He bit him again, this time on the other cheek. He didn’t want to think of his darling’s words. No, what he wanted to think was that, if his darling was clean, that meant one thing. He settled himself more comfortably and gently, he parted Elik’s cheeks with his hands. His little hole was furled and tight and waiting. 

With a deep breath, he stuck his tongue out and licked it. It tasted of flesh, nothing else. 

“Husband,” Elik shouted. 

“You had liked it,” Nikolaj reminded him. “I’m curious, can anyone satisfy your lewd body?”

“Husband,” Elik whispered, sounding ashamed. 

“It’s fine, darling. It’s good that you have such a lustful body. It’s how I know you were made for me.” Smiling, he tongued the sensitive flesh over and over, feeling how his darling shivered underneath him. Even more amazing was how slowly that little hole surrendered to him, twitching invitingly. Even more arousing was his darling’s spicy scent, growing more intense the more he touched him. 

His cock appreciated it too. Nikolaj started rubbing himself on the sheets shamelessly, and continued trying to open his darling’s most secret space with only his tongue. Finally, it opened for him, and he slid his tongue inside, tasting his darling’s skin, smelling his darling’s scent, feeling heat and smoothness. 

“Nikolaj,” Elik gasped. His body shook and his little hole spasmed and he was scared that he’d trap his tongue inside him. He pulled away, but still kissed him eagerly. 

A second later, he felt his balls tighten. His desire, that he’d ignored in favour of pleasing his darling, became undeniable, and Nikolaj started coming, his orgasm cresting inside him. 

Sighing, happy, with eyes closed, he crawled up so he could lie next to his darling and hug him. “My love,” he whispered. 

“My Nikolaj.”

“Must you…” he started when someone knocked on their door rudely. He groaned and pulled the shirt down so that it covered his darling’s ass again. “I was not to be disturbed,” he said the moment the door opened and Ivan peeked inside. 

“But it’s your games keeper, Your Majesty. He’s been waiting for over and hour and… he says he has better things to do.”

Laughing, Nikolaj turned to Elik. “You hear that, love? We are being commanded by our games keeper. Fine, fine. Tell him we will be there in two minutes.”

Ivan closed the door with a wide grin. 

Nikolaj got up and buttoned his breeches. Then he handed Elik his clothes from the floor. 

Elik got dressed quickly. “Am I supposed to see him too?”

“Why not?” He looked as his darling was getting dressed. He had to ask Lady Ekaterina if she had any ideas how to keep his darling, since Mark’s had failed. “Ready?”

Elik nodded and followed him out to the first reception room. 

“What better things do you have to do?” Nikolaj grinned as he opened the door to it. 

Piotr, his games keeper, stared at him. “The dogs won’t feed themselves,” he said loudly, as if he was trying to be heard over Elik’s gasp. 

Nikolaj smiled, pleased. “And what about these two?” 

“These won’t feed themselves either,” he said gruffly. He snapped his fingers and the dog to his right sat up. “This is Sasha,” he said. “He’s the son of Misha and Alina, two of the finest wolfhounds we’ve ever had in the kennels.” Sasha was tall and slender, and his long, white coat had orange-peach patches. The dog studied them curiously and patiently as they studied him. 

“And this is Oleg,” he continued. Oleg was a shorter than Sasha but sturdier-looking, with a thick, white coat, and a fluffy tail that curled and fell to the side. “He’s a new addition to the kennels. His parents, together with six other dogs, were a gift to Your Majesty from the hunters of Tanovo that came here five years ago.”

He remembered them – and their dogs. Taking part in deer hunt with them had been exciting. “Which one…” he started saying when Oleg waved his tail excitedly.

“Oleg looks like he’s laughing,” Elik whispered. “And Sasha is so dignified.”

“They are both good dogs,” Piotr said, rubbing the top of their heads. “Sasha is a hunting dog, and Oleg is a herding and sled dog. They are both friendly and clever. Sasha is the quietest of the two, but Oleg is more affectionate. Both can be good companions. They are not violent, but they will bark at danger.”

He nodded. That’s exactly the kind of dog he wanted. “Elik? Which one do you like?”

Elik stared at him. “Me?”

“Yes. Which one do you prefer?”

Elik walked up to the dogs and stood in front of them. Sasha sniffed him and stayed very quiet as Elik reached out to touch him. 

“They won’t bite,” Piotr assured him. 

“His fur is soft,” Elik marvelled. Then he turned to Oleg. The dog started wagging his tail excitedly and tried to climb on Elik, tongue sticking out. “He likes me?” he asked Piotr.

“He is a friendly dog,” Piotr grinned. “But yes,” he laughed, clicking his fingers. Oleg jumped back, stayed still, but his tail kept wagging. “He likes you. Sasha likes you too, but he’s more reserved.”

Elik turned towards Nikolaj. “Sasha is gorgeous and elegant, but Oleg likes me. I want Oleg. Can I really have him?”

At Nikolaj’s nod, Elik knelt so he could hug the dog. The dog stood up on its hind legs, put his front legs on Elik’s shoulders and licked his face. His darling squirmed and laughed. “He doesn’t smell of dog. Why? How do I take care of him? What does he eat? His fur is so thick. How…”

Nikolaj sat down and watched as Piotr lectured Elik on how to take care of his dog. He really wanted to keep his darling. How would he do that?


	6. Chapter 6

“At last,” Elik sighed. 

“Dinner wasn’t that bad,” Nikolaj laughed, amused at his darling’s misery. He had allowed Elik to stay in their rooms for lunch, where he had no doubt that Elik had played with Oleg all afternoon, but dinner could not be avoided. Everyone who was someone had been invited, and toasted his sweet and loyal Consort over and over. 

Elik started unbuttoning His Husband’s coat quietly. 

Nikolaj smiled at him and ruffled his hair. “Isn’t my clever, loyal, and handsome Consort tired of being my valet?”

Elik hugged him. “No,” he said as he stood on his tiptoes so he could kiss Nikolaj. 

He indulged him, and felt Elik smile into the kiss. “Husband,” Elik sighed, breaking the kiss. 

Nikolaj smiled back. “Darling.”

“Husband,” he grinned. 

“Husband,” Nikolaj laughed and picked him easily, making him wince. “What?”

“My ass hurts.”

“Do you want me to kiss it better?” 

“Again?” Elik looked down, clearly thinking about it.

Nikolaj put him on the bed. “I wouldn’t mind, if you wouldn’t mind,” he said, smiling at him. 

“Hm… maybe after I have a bath. I don’t want you to kiss me there now.” He stood up. “I wasn’t finished.”

With a patient smile, Nikolaj let him continue undressing him. “Did you see them? They will continue drinking in your honour until dawn. Darling, everyone thinks you are the best Empress an Emperor could have.”

Elik shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what they think. What matters is that….” He slid out of Nikolaj’s arms and kissed his hands. “Please, don’t be mad at me for what I will say.”

Nikolaj froze, shocked. “How can you say that?”

“You have been mad at me a lot lately,” he whispered. At the Ball, and that morning too. “Nikolaj, if you, My own Love, My Husband, were able to suspect me of treason, do you think that others won’t? 

“But I told you…” he started and stopped.

“You called me your ‘seditious consort’ in front of everyone at the Council Room. Your Ministers, their attending secretaries, the pages, the guards. Do you think that all of these people will be as understanding as you were? My Love, My Heart, My Nikolaj, while this inquest is ongoing and has not exonerated me, I am a problem. If you will not punish me, then you must let me go and distance myself from you. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Why can’t you understand that if I punish you now, people will think I am ungrateful?”

Elik frowned for a second. “Husband, if we hear no rumours of my seditious filth and behaviour in the next days, then I will agree that you were right, and stay with you. But if we do, then you will allow me to do the right thing.”

Nikolaj growled. “You are unreasonable.”

“Perhaps. But you placed me in a very exalted position, Husband. I’m only trying to be worthy of you. You wouldn’t disobey the laws just because you can, would you?”

“I am the law,” Nikolaj shouted. “What I say, happens.”

“And you said I was seditious, and that you would deal with me. I’m only asking you to obey the law you made,” Elik screamed back. 

Nikolaj took a step back, and went pale. “I did,” he whispered. “But then I said…” He frowned. He had never said that he believed his Elik was innocent. Adam’s draft could be a smokescreen, for all everyone in that room knew, a bone to keep the common folk happy until the time was right for him to deal with Elik permanently. He looked around and managed to get to the closest armchair, where he sat down heavily, feeling as if his legs couldn’t hold his weight. 

Elik rushed to him and knelt by his feet. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “If I…”

Nikolaj put his finger on Elik’s downturned mouth. Even if Adam’s draft became a decree that night and circulated by the morning in his whole Empire, the damage had been done. Elik was right; they had to wait until the end of the investigation, and the official exoneration of his darling. “Come here,” he muttered, and Elik climbed on his lap immediately. A few moments later, he was wrapped around him, just as he liked. “You are right. I must obey the laws. You may go.”

Elik hugged him more tightly. “I really don’t want to leave you,” he whispered.

“I will make sure the inquest exonerates you,” he promised him. “Ilya has already said they cannot charge you, but I will make sure there will be no doubts left as to your innocence.”

With a sigh, Elik nuzzled him. 

“Tomorrow, we must decide on your schedule, so we can inform Our Royal Brothers of your travel and get their permission to enter their lands. And we must decide on who will join you.”

“I want none of the Ladies,” Elik told him darkly. “Not until I know who betrayed me.”

He nodded. He hoped Ilya and Artemi found that treacherous person soon. Just because she was a Lady of the Court wouldn’t save her from his wrath. 

“I don’t want any formalities either,” Elik said more quietly. “I’m not worthy of them.”

“Nonsense. You are.”

“Still… I don’t want people to honour me and bother me. I want to be able to see what I want to see, and do what I want to do.”

Despite the heaviness he felt in his heart, he smiled. “And what do you want to do?”

“I want to listen to music, see plays, and learn from doctors.”

He smiled. “You sound like you have a plan already.”

“No. But I have read about such marvellous things. I want to see them.”

Elik’s expression was so beautiful. He kissed him on the forehead. “If you want to travel without being bothered, then you should travel incognito. Who would you like to be for this trip?”

“I think…” Elik grinned. “I think I would like to be a count, so that people will give me some privacy, but they will not be as fawning or obsequious as they would be to a duke or an empress. A count is approachable in a way that a duke is not. Or maybe I can be a dog trainer,” he laughed. 

“A dog trainer with an escort of a hundred guards.”

Elik’s expression fell for a second. “Oh, yes, that won’t work. Then I shall be a count,” he declared. “You may call me Count Elik Berezin.” 

“Berezin?”

“My Mother’s surname before her marriage to Father.” 

“Then so I shall call you, my sweet.” He snorted, feeling weirdly sad. “You look so happy that I have punished you. Why couldn’t you be happy with your punishment this morning?”

His darling looked at him. “Honestly?”

He nodded, curious. 

“I wasn’t happy because it hurt, but, more than the actual pain, it… When you said I was better than a seasoned whore, that really hurt me. I felt so worthless, so…” Elik made a soft sound and hid his face against Nikolaj’s neck. “I felt so degraded. I didn’t like that.”

“But it is true,” Nikolaj said. “Your body was made to fuck and be fucked.”

“I still felt bad,” he whispered. “I don’t want to share my body with anyone else, and…” He looked at him helplessly. “Even though I hated it whenever you have shared me, my body still liked it. It makes me feel so wretched that my body does not do what my mind wants, and when you called me a whore… What if I am a whore, and that is why my body does what it does?”

Nikolaj stared at him, bewildered. How could his darling think that? 

“I don’t want to be a whore, Nikolaj,” Elik whispered, looking like he was about to start crying. “I want to be good. I want to be good in all things.”

Nikolaj hugged him. “Oh, you are good, darling. You are perfect.” 

Elik sighed, clearly not believing him.

He suddenly grinned. “So, you didn’t like it when I called you better than a whore.”

Elik hit him lightly with his fist. “You are making fun of me again, Husband. Why do you tease me so cruelly? Why do you enjoy this?”

“Because your eyes sparkle when you’re angry,” he replied truthfully. “But why do you get so upset? I’m just acknowledging that you didn’t like it.”

“Because you are laughing at me,” he whined a little.

“No, I am laughing because I know what I will ask you next.” 

Elik calmed down, but his expression remained suspicious. 

“Since you didn’t like that, what did you like?”

Elik reddened. “I liked it when you kissed me there. It really feels so amazing. And….” He smiled. “I love it when you call me ‘love’ or ‘darling’.”

Hm… He wondered. Did some people get aroused by sweet talk, the same way that some people liked to be degraded, as Mark claimed? Or had he trained his darling to respond to his sweet talk? He had to ask Mark. 

“What did you like?” Elik asked him.

“I liked…” He traced Elik’s mouth and was satisfied to see Elik draw his digit in and suck it gently. “I liked seeing you wear only your shirt and stockings. But then, I always like seeing you.”

His darling bit him playfully, grinning, as if to say he knew, and he wasn’t sure he approved. 

He laughed for a moment, but then desire filled him. “I also love it when you give yourself to me. You are strong and beautiful and clever, but you bend to my will.”

“I do want to please you,” his darling whispered, looking at him from under his lashes, unwittingly seductive. 

“What do you like?” He asked, honestly curious. 

“I like fucking you,” Elik replied immediately. He reddened even more deeply than before, and shook his head. 

“What?” he grinned, loving his husband’s teasing ways. 

“You say I’m strong and beautiful but, Husband, you are strong and powerful and so handsome.” Elik swallowed hard as he looked at him and caressed him arms. “Remember that day that you let me tie you?”

Nikolaj frowned. “Oh. After the Ball. When you wanted to divorce me,” he smiled. “Yes,” he said in a low voice. That had been interesting, to say the least. He wouldn’t mind trying that again. 

“I liked that too.” His darling nuzzled him. “But I also like it when you fuck me. I like it when I feel treasured and protected by you.”

Nikolaj’s smile fell. Instead of protecting his darling, he’d left him vulnerable, and he’d even wondered if he could kill him. He’d failed him. 

His darling nudged him. “What is wrong?”

“Must you leave me?” he lied. 

Elik bit his lips. “Didn’t we have this discussion already?” he asked, his tone and expression an exact copy of Nikolaj’s when he wanted to stop a discussion he didn’t like. 

He couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, we did. Sorry.”

Elik yawned. “Sorry.”

He yawned too. “It is late, isn’t it?” He playfully slapped his darling ghtly on the ass. “Up, love. Time for bed.”

With another yawn, his darling slid off him and started taking off his clothes. Nikolaj watched him. Why hadn’t he asked for his portrait to be done while he was away? Not that he thought that the Royal Painter would do justice to his darling’s beauty. 

He was the most miserable of men. His sweet, pleasing husband had found the way to leave him. He wondered if the real reason his darling was so determined to go away, was because Nikolaj ‘had been mad at him’ and had shown clearly that he did consider his crown more important than his husband. Was that why?

With a sigh, he stood up and took off his shirt. What did it matter why his love was leaving? He was leaving, that was what mattered. Oh, how he was miserable.


	7. Chapter 7

From the Ambassador of Thur-and-Foire,

… His Majesty left today in order to regain his health after the fright he had when General Ivanof tried to take over the Palace.

Your Majesty, permit me to say that this is all bullshit. Forgive my language, but I strongly suspect that Their Majesties are playing a game again. From what I have heard (and what I had written in an earlier report), the Swan handled the situation well, and showed no fear whatsoever when Ivanof made his demands. According to my informers, he was annoyed and indignant, but not afraid. As for the Emperor, he behaves in an exaggerated manner of avoiding his Consort, just as he had done last time the Swan was ‘unwell’. 

A rumour is currently circulating at court that the Swan was somehow involved in the plot, or had incited the General to action, but, if that were true, would the Emperor allow a disloyal and treacherous Consort to leave the court? Especially one that seems to be popular with the army, as all the reports about the General’s coup suggest? Traitorous nobles are executed, or put to prison, or sent to the north. 

Therefore, Your Majesty, I am convinced that the Swan has fled the court for a reason that is currently known only to him and the Emperor, and that he is still very much in the Emperor’s favour….

&*&*

_My brother,_

_His Imperial Majesty, the Consort of Emperor Nikolaj, has left the Ivanhof!!_

_According to the letter sent by the Emperor and asking my Brother, the King, for permission to travel to Valentin, the Consort will be travelling under the name of Count Berezin, and requests that no formalities are observed. My Brother was kind and gracious and allowed him permit, and, according to the schedule sent by His Imperial Majesty’s ambassador, we are expecting him in our court in three months._

_I have asked my Brother that he allows me to show our hospitality to the Count, and even more graciously, he allowed that too. Three months! That gives me just enough time to arrange everything for his visit. I would be most grateful if you could find as much as possible about his likes and dislikes, and what he is like. Is he as handsome as our brother Antoine wrote? I am so eager to meet him._

_In brotherly love,_

_A. L. H._

The Princess coughed just as he was signing. “What are you writing?”

Alexandre glanced at his favourite drawing, the one showing the Consort wearing only his veil and his stockings and the Emperor fully dressed as they fucked. The Consort was on his back, and his legs were resting on the Emperor’s arms as the Emperor drove into him with a lustful expression. 

“That again?” she complained softly. 

Looking at the drawing one more time, Alexandre stood up, grabbed her, and made her lie on his desk. “That again, Madame,” he said as he lifted her skirts and parted her legs. 

She looked away from him, sighing and unresisting, allowing him to lift her legs and put them on his arms. 

“Stop sighing. I am doing my duty to my country and my brother,” he told her as he stroked himself, looking at the drawing and imagining… he decided that this time, he would imagine himself the Emperor, fucking his pliant Consort. “Perhaps this will put a child in your belly and we can stop trying for a while. Do you think I enjoy this?” No, what he wanted was someone like the Emperor, to fuck him hard, or someone like the Consort, whom he could fuck wildly. And what he really hoped was to fuck either the Emperor or his Consort, and now he felt that he could have that. If only his wife got with child in the next three months. 

“Neither do I,” she spat out. “I wish you would take a male lover, you beast.”

He snorted. “I can’t. First, I must save my seed and give you a child. Then I will take a lover.” His brother had been most insistent on that. His last lover… He glanced at the drawing, and reached for the book with the other sketches, seeking to be inspired and draw his thoughts away from the fate of his poor, unfortunate, last lover. 

First, he’d do his duty and put a child into his wife’s belly, and then take his pleasure. His Brother had promised him. 

&*&*

_My Brother Leopold,_

_I hope you are well._

_Thank you for your swift reply on the important matter of Our Most Gracious Consort’s travel, and for allowing him passage._

_Once more, I would ask you to extend to him your warmest hospitality and treat him as you would treat your own brother. Or brother-in-law, as the case may be._

_Your Brother,_

_Nikolaj I_

Nikolaj signed the last of the letters and gave them all to Count Njedzic. “One for the archives, and one for the messengers,” he told them.

“Yes, Sire.”

He sighed. Why had his darling left him so hastily, not even waiting for the reply of the various kings and princes who would let him pass through their lands? 

Count Njedzic put down an envelope for him. “This arrived just moments ago.”

With a nod, Nikolaj took it and opened it, not even seeing the Count leave. 

_My Husband, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you?_

_This is a short note to let you know that we arrived at Jedlowa this morning, five days ahead of schedule. I did not tell you, but since last week, my guards and I have been travelling on horseback, while Count Rasoulin and the others are following us with the carriages (and I think they will arrive according to the schedule we had written before I left). Oh, Husband, as soon as we were so close to home, I could not stand travelling so slowly. I felt like a bird, flying home after a long, cold winter and my longing was terrible._

_Not as terrible as the longing I feel for you, though. How is the inquest going?_

_And even though I want to write so many things, I must leave and attend a Council meeting. Elder Grigorief insisted on that, claiming that since I was here, I had to do my duty to my country. Husband, you will laugh, but I had quite forgotten that we are Kings here – I thought I was coming home, yet I come to Our country and I must be twice as dutiful now than when I was just a member of the Council of Elders._

_I really wanted to go and play fetch with Oleg…. My Nikolaj, every time I see his smiling face, I think of the day you gave him to me and how boundless is your love for me. If I ever lost it, what would I do?_

_Oh, they are knocking on my door to remind me I must go._

_My Love, I miss you so much. I know the police must do its work diligently, but it feels that time passes so slowly…_

_Yours until death,_

_Your Elik_

He sighed and put it in the box where he kept all of his darling’s letters. “Why are the police so slow in their investigations?” he shouted as he walked out of his study, making Count Njedzic jump. “Get me the Chiefs of Police and let them know that, from today, they will update me daily on their progress. They are slow.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Hm…” He went back to his office. He had to write to his darling.

*&*&

Nikolaj entered his office, and groaned the moment he saw the envelope on top of his correspondence. What did his frightful sister-in-law want? She had her brother back, what more did she want? 

_Your Majesty,_

_How are you? I hope you are well._

_I have a request, and I really and humbly beg you to grant it. Your Majesty, can I have a dog like Oleg? Or maybe one like Sasha? Eli said he had never seen any dogs like them, and described Sasha to me as quiet and dignified and … I think I would prefer a dog like that. Oleg is very cute, playful and affectionate, but every time I enter Eli’s room, he barks loudly. I don’t want a dog that will bark every time someone enters the house. Oleg doesn’t seem to understand the difference between friend and foe – he barks as soon as someone opens Eli’s door, and then the guards rush in, and Eli has to excuse me and makes me say I’m sorry for going into my brother’s room and why should I apologize to the guards for that?_

Nikolaj started laughing. He could picture the scene vividly, and imagine Lady Irina’s indignation. But he was glad that Oleg was doing exactly what he was supposed to do. 

_Speaking of my brother, I have decided that since he has become such a good wife to you, then our family does not need a second wife. Your Majesty, when the time comes, I will choose my own partner, take him as my wife, and have him live with me under my roof. I already told that to Eli and he hasn’t responded yet, so, can you use your power as Husband and make him agree to my very reasonable and logical request?_

If he weren’t sitting, he would have fallen down from the shock and the amusement. He wasn’t able to imagine his darling’s reaction at being called ‘a good wife’ by his sister, but he could bet that it would have been amusing to see. 

_So, I guess I have two requests, then. Can I have a dog? And can I have a wife?_

_Thank you!_

_Your faithful and humble servant,_

_Irina_

_P.s. I really am grateful that you sent Eli home. I had missed him so much. And I think he had missed home too. I am sending you a few drawings I made last week so you can see how happy he is that he is here. But, Your Majesty? I really think that Eli is happier being your wife. Even though it is great that he is here with me, maybe you can take him back? When you send me a dog like Sasha, your messenger could take Eli back, couldn’t he?_

_p.p.s. he really has become the best good little wife a man could have. At the Feast of All Spirits, there is a competition for the best cake, and, I do not exaggerate, Eli’s apple cake could have won that contest EASILY. And he’s made our servants clean EVERYTHING. I thought I was doing a good job running our household, but clearly not. As a future husband, I congratulate you, and I hope I too get a wife as diligent and hard-working and good at cooking as you have_

Nikolaj shivered. He vowed that, every time he thought Elik outrageous, he’d take out this letter, read it, and remind himself that he had married the tamer of the two siblings. It seemed he had forgotten that. 

Shaking his head, and with trepidation, he reached for the folder that Lady Irina had sent him. He opened it, removed the fine, thin paper protecting the drawing and stared at something that even the Royal Painter would approve. It was deceptively simple, done almost exclusively with black chalk on pale brown paper, a touch of red for his darling’s hair. Elik was half-kneeling next to Oleg and laughing as he hugged him. In the second drawing, he was lying on his bed reading with Oleg lying by his feet, seemingly asleep, but with one ear up. In the third, his darling was in the kitchen, arms deep into a bowl, smiling as he listened to something Major Lesnev was telling him. Count Rasoulin was sitting on a chair looking perfectly composed, while Dima was combing Oleg, ignoring them all. 

What had they been discussing, he wondered? He’d probably find out the moment he opened his darling’s letter, placed on the side, as always, so as not to be confused with the rest of his correspondence. 

But first, he had to write to his sister-in-law. 

_My Lady,_

_We have received your letter and We are glad that you are well. We thank you for the drawings you sent to Us, and We have considered your requests._

_My Lady, We shall grant them, under one condition: that you join Our Spouse and Consort in his travels, and continue to make drawings of him, and of whatever else you enjoy. Please, send Us your drawings at the end of each week._

_Eagerly waiting for your next drawings,_

_Your thankful brother-in-law,_

_Nikolaj I_

Oh, how he pitied her future wife. The poor man… He couldn’t stop laughing, even as he opened his darling’s letter. 

_My Love, My Heart, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you? I was so glad to read that you are well, and I hope you remain well and healthy and in good spirits._

_As for me… I am in good spirits and, when I am not, a look at Oleg reminds me of the love you hold for me, and my spirits are lifted instantly. I admit, though, even though I am generally in good spirits, being away from you casts a permanent shadow over everything that can bring me pleasure. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you._

Nikolaj sighed, imagining his darling sighing as he wrote that. He missed him too, and nothing was as pleasant to him as it had been when his darling was with him. 

_Being here reminded me of one of your questions that I never managed to answer. You asked, if Quhjan could produce wine. I do not know in what quantities it can, but it can, so I am sending you some. Some people claim that the best wines are produced south of Quhjan, at Vilnia, but I dare think that our Quhjani wine is just as good.  
Vasily says I need to try wine first before I say this, but I have, and I am partial to the white. I wonder, what will you make of it? Or will you prefer the red?_

He glanced at the drawing of his darling in the kitchen. Was that what they had been talking about? 

_Ah, how I wish I were there to see your reaction when you first try it._

_And now I must go again to another Council meeting. Why don’t they leave me alone? I found Mother’s old cookbook, and I want to try her recipes instead._

Nikolaj started laughing again. Lady Irina was right. His darling was his good little wife. Either that, or he had been tired of politics. He didn’t know if that was amusing. He liked hearing his darling’s opinions; even when he first dismissed them, they still stayed with him, and wouldn’t let him rest until he thought about them properly. 

_Yours till the end,_

_Your Elik_

He picked up his quill and dipped it in black ink. Then he started writing. 

_My sweet darling,_

_How are you? I hope all is well?_

_Here things are quiet. I am writing to you from the fortress of Bira, as I just finished the inspection of our new fortresses in the north. If Luck will have it, we will not need to use them. But if we are not so lucky, then our enemies will find us ready._

_Together with Vassily we started drafting a new bill for the military service. Something you had said struck me – most soldiers come from different villages and then get into their regiments. We are thinking of changing that, and dividing the Empire into provinces that will provide regiments. So, instead of creating a sense of unity in the regiments, the men will already feel that they are fighting together with people who speak their own dialect and understand them. And, when it is time for the men’s service to end, in twenty-five years, they will come back to their villages and live out the rest of their lives among their friends and relatives._

He frowned. His darling had been right. While he was inspecting the fortresses, he had seen men who had no place in the frontlines. He didn’t know why that had never bothered him before. 

_I also met with architects to discuss the plans for your anniversary gift, but for how many men do you want this to be? Jacopo Imeldi, who I thought was the best of them, will be travelling together with this missive, so you can discuss your ideas at length with him._

_I miss you so much._

_Your loving Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

He stood up and walked out his office. “Where is the wine His Majesty sent me?” he grinned at Nikita, his page. “Is it enough to serve at dinner?”

Nikita nodded. 

“Great.” He turned to Count Njedzic. “We have written the replies to all the letters. You may make a copy for the archives and then send them off. And inform Imeldi that We approve of  
his request to travel to Jedlowa.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Nikolaj smiled and went back to the office. There he spread out Lady Irina’s drawings and stared at them. How he missed his darling. How much.


	8. Chapter 8

Irina took the apple and wiped it down. “Eli, what’s wrong?”

He smiled at her. “Nothing is wrong.”

“Eli, you’ve been here for over a week and all you do is cook. And play with Oleg. And go riding. And…” She grinned. “Well, you do several things but,” her expression softened, “I can see that you’re not happy here. If you miss your husband so much, why don’t you go back?”

Elik finished washing the last of the apples, handed it to his sister and wiped his hands at his apron. He sat down at the table and she gave him the bowl with the fruits. “It’s complicated,” he said as he picked up one and started peeling it carefully. 

Irina sat facing him, took a knife and joined him. “I don’t understand.”

“Irina,” he sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?”

He looked down and Oleg looked back, making him smile. If he was good enough for his husband, that should be enough for him, shouldn’t it? “I messed up, Irina. I’m lucky he allowed me to go into this trip. In his place, I would have put me under house arrest.”

Irina dropped the knife, shocked. “What happened? 

“You remember that Ivanof tried to take over the palace?”

“Yes, but that was ages ago.”

Two months and three days to be exact. “Some people in the Palace think I was involved. Until the police investigation clears me, I don’t want to be there.” He suddenly looked at Irina. “Frankly, I am not sure if I want to go back,” he whispered, even though they were all alone and it was the middle of the night. 

“What?”

“I love him, Irina, but he’s the Emperor.”

“And you’re the King of Quhjan.”

He smiled. “What does that even mean? Irina, for the last two weeks, I do nothing but miss running water. Our land is fair and fertile, but we are living in the past.” He put the peeled apple in a bowl filled with water, and picked the next one to be peeled. 

“Then do something about it.”

“I can’t and I don’t want to. Not anymore. Whatever I do, I mess things up. I’m only good for being his little wife, and I can’t even do that because he’s the Emperor.”

Irina glared at him. “Who are you? Where is my brother? Bring him back.” She took a pinch of salt from the salt cellar and threw it at him. “Bring my brother back, unclean spirit.”

“It’s me,” he laughed. She threw another pinch at him. “Stop it.”

“No, I will not,” she said as she looked at the salt cellar with a calculating look, as if she seriously considered throwing all of its contents at him in order to remove whatever was possessing him. She put her fingers in and grabbed another pinch. “Out, unclean spirit.” She studied him. “Eli, if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be as free as we are. If there is something you don’t like about our country, you can change it.”

“I can’t be the King of Quhjan. Not there, where I am Elik of Bosilke, and not here either.” He shook his head. “You haven’t come to any of these meetings that Elder Grigorief makes me attend. They all start by saying how honoured they are that their King is there, and how the Council is doing its best to safekeep the Crown. Each meeting is nothing but a reminder that Quhjan is an autonomous region. Quhjan can’t be free if I’m its King, Irina. And even if I could command it as Elik of Bosilke, I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“Because…” He glanced at the pile of apples in front of him. What had he been thinking, deciding to make jam in the middle of the night? Him, what else? “I can’t be Quhjani anymore, not there. I was sworn to be an Empress of all the people in the Empire, and, in any case, I am a bad Empress. Which Empress manages to get implicated in scandal after scandal?”

“But did you do anything bad against your husband?”

“No, but the wife of an Emperor must not just be blameless. She must also seem blameless. I have messed up so badly, Irina. Can I tell you a secret? That you will tell to no one? Ever?”

Irina nodded.

“He,” Elik lowered his voice even more, “He loves me.” Irina snorted, making him smile for a moment. “He does, but…” He decided not to tell her how His Husband frightened him when he got mad at him, nor how his usually brilliant and perceptive Nikolaj could ignore his worries whenever Nikolaj felt he was right. He was certain they would manage to work out these problems, if he went back. “His love is not enough to keep me in the Palace anymore. Until recently, my enemies just sent me vicious notes, but then they stole my draft of the abolition bill and gave it to Ivanof. I don’t know if they did it in order to incite Ivanof to rebellion, or because they wanted to implicate me at the plot, but I really am tired of them, Irina.”

“Why don’t you ask the police to do something? Find out who are your enemies?”

“I thought that if I ignored them, they would eventually stop. Irina, do you know what they do to traitors? They cut them in four and throw their bodies to dogs. I don’t want to find out who they are, have them executed, and then have the rest of the court turn against me.”

“You are stupid,” Irina told him seriously. “You can’t please everyone, so why do you worry about them? You should have found out who they are, and punished them.”

He wondered if Irina would have made a good Empress. Had he made a mistake when he’d tried to protect her from an early marriage? He shivered, remembering his very first night with His Husband. Irina wouldn’t have survived that monstrous weapon of his, not when she was only a child – assuming that Nikolaj accepted her. Everyone knew he didn’t like his partners too young. He forced himself to return to the discussion. 

“The Court is composed of the finest and noblest of the Bosilik. Men who served under the previous Emperor. Men whom Nikolaj chose himself. Men whom Nikolaj knows all his life. Would he really go against them to protect me? I’m not a woman, Irina, no matter how much you all joke about it. I hate it when you and others call me ‘his good wife’ because a good wife gives children to her husband. Why should he protect me, when I can’t do what I’m supposed to do?”

Irina stared at him. “Yes, you are you, still putting others and duty first,” she said softly, and sadly. “Eli, your husband didn’t choose you for your ability to give him children. Why do you worry about that?”

“Because I still haven’t figured out how to solve this problem, and Nikolaj is taking his time deciding on an heir.”

Irina shook her head. “Why don’t you talk to your husband about it? Two heads are better than one.”

“I don’t want to pressure him. It will be his heir, Irina. It should be his decision.”

Irina frowned. “You are right, it’s too complicated and I don’t understand a thing. I don’t understand why you have let your enemies run around you, nor why your husband doesn’t see that you are miserable. You are both weird.”

He smiled. When Irina was right, she was right. “That’s true.”

The kitchen door opened, and Vanya walked in, weapon ready. He blinked and froze when he saw them. “How? When?”

“Secret staircase,” Elik replied to what he was trying to ask: how did you leave your room without us seeing you? “Maybe half an hour ago. I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make apple jam.”

“And I came to get some water, found Eli here, so I joined him,” Irina said. 

Vanya stared at them as if they were a little crazy. Perhaps they were. 

Irina gestured for him to lower his weapon. “Do you want to join us?”

“I’m still on duty,” Vanya said, “but since my duty is guarding Elik, I can,” he grinned as he crossed the room and joined them at the table. 

“I made some tea,” Elik said as he poured him a cup of strong tea and diluted it with just a splash of water. 

“Thanks. So, I just peel them?”

“For now.” 

Vanya took a knife and started on an apple. “Elik, I’m thinking of marrying Sana tomorrow. Will you come to the wedding? Both of you.”

“Of course, thank you for inviting us.” 

Irina grinned. “Is it a wedding-wedding, or a ‘wedding’?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively. 

Vanya grinned madly for a moment. “A short wedding, isn’t that how you call it?”

Irina nodded. 

He laughed. “They will never believe me back home when I tell them that Quhjani people are easy… well…, provided you marry them first.”

“We appreciate chastity before marriage and marital fidelity afterwards,” Elik told him seriously. 

“Sana especially,” Irina said. “She’s been faithful to all her husbands so far, and never sleeps with anyone when she is unmarried.”

“Sounds like a very good woman to me,” Elik agreed. 

Vanya nodded. “Oh, she is very good. I mean… never mind what I mean.”

Elik smiled. 

“Did you ever have a short wedding?”

Irina looked at Vanya shocked. “Us? Of course not. That’s for others.”

“Marriage for members of the families of the Twelve is similar to those of Bosilik nobility,” Elik explained. “We are not betrothed from a young age, but we cannot marry whomever we wish. We marry to forge alliances.”

“That’s sad,” Vanya muttered. 

“I will marry for love,” Irina told them seriously. “And whoever I marry, will be my wife.”

“A woman can’t be a husband,” Vanya told her grinning.

“Then why can a man be a wife? If Eli can do it, then so can I.”

Vanya bit his lips and tried not to laugh. 

“Well, these are just names, aren’t they? Practical ways to recognise relationships?” Vasily said from the door. “At ease,” he said before Vanya could jump up and salute him. He took a knife from the drawer and sat beside Irina. “I say, if you want to be called a husband, you can be.”

Elik smiled at him gratefully. 

“Then I will be,” she said proudly. She suddenly paled. “Oh, Eli, I did it again. I called you ‘wife’, when you said you hate it. I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine, Irina. You will stop doing it eventually. I hope.”

“Are there other male wives, or husbands, or whatever they are called, at the Empire?” she asked curiously. 

Elik nodded. He too was curious about that. There were only Ladies in his court, and even though people said there were male wives, he’d never been introduced to one. And being him, he’d never asked, too scared of putting his foot in his mouth. Again. 

Vasily and Vanya shared a look. “There are,” Vasily said, “but they are not allowed at Court.”

“Really? Why?” Elik asked, surprised. 

“The Empress Dowager forbade their presence at Court, ever since what happened with Setland.”

“Setland?”

Vasily glanced at Irina. 

“I can listen to anything,” she shouted. “I’m almost fifteen. I’m not a child.”

Elik nodded. It would be easier than trying to get her out of the room. 

“Setland was the first land that His Majesty conquered, and they sent him a male bride. His Majesty was quite pleased with him,” he said with the tiniest of smiles, making Elik jealous for a moment. “In his case, all the rules were followed.”

Elik shuddered. Poor man. 

“Setland did not take it very well.”

“He died from the surgery?”

“He killed himself. The Empress Dowager considered this bad luck and forbade male wives to appear at court after that.”

“That makes no sense,” Irina whispered, shocked. 

Bosilik faith in Luck was so strange; he couldn’t understand it either. He touched Irina’s hand. “If the Empress Dowager thought so, she must have had good reason,” he said even though he didn’t agree with the idea. 

“You should change that rule. Then maybe you won’t feel so bad about being a wife, if there are other male wives there,” Irina said. 

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Vanya said. “Roman…” he shut his mouth.

Vanya’s younger cousin was one of the best archers he had ever seen, and he had the most wonderful, deep baritone. His voice was incomparable. If he had to lose Roman from his choir, how would he replace him? “What about Roman?” 

“You never heard it from me. Promise me. All of you.”

They nodded. 

“Roman has fallen in love. Not like I have ‘fallen in love’ with Sana. The other kind of love, that makes you go crazy.”

Elik smiled. He knew that love. “If his love is reciprocated, then that is the best love in the world.”

Irina and Vasily rolled their eyes upwards. So what? He believed in love. 

“It’s not with a woman, though, but with Stepan, the apprentice of blacksmith Trofim. He can’t marry him because a man married with a man cannot bring his husband to court and… Roman says he’ll die without him.”

“But we are not at court,” Elik frowned. 

“Wherever Your Majesty is, is the Court,” Vasily said simply. 

“Since a soldier serves for life,” Vanya continued, “he can’t wait until his service is over so he can stay here and marry him. As for resigning? That’s not an option for a soldier.” He snorted. 

“That is horrible,” Irina gasped. “What can he do?”

“Either leave Stepan, or defect.”

Vasily looked at Vanya shocked. “Truly, I never heard this from you.”

“If he defects, and gets caught, he will be court-martialled and executed,” Elik whispered. “You mean that because of the Empress Dowager’s decree, Roman must either abandon his love or lose his life?” 

Vanya and Vasily nodded at the same time. 

“That is so stupid. And does Stepan love him?”

Vanya nodded. “More than life itself. I can vouch for that. I have seen them and talked to them.” He took a deep breath. “They think if they cross the border to either Oerestand or Vilnia they will be safe. But you never heard it from me,” he said pleadingly. 

Elik stood up and wiped his hands on the apron. Then he untied it and threw it on his chair. “I will not allow that. You can continue making jam. I am going to write a decree allowing male wives at My Court, and send it to His Majesty to ratify it. I’m so tired of my wishes being ignored or treated like jokes. If I can’t do anything for the soldiers, or for the slaves, or for the people, then at least he will listen to this, won’t he?” He froze, realising he’d said too much. 

Vasily grinned suddenly. “And if he won’t, maybe you can do what every wife does when her husband doesn’t listen to her. Bar him from your bed until he does.”

Vanya and Irina started laughing. “Yes, be a really good wife even in the way you protest,” she giggled. 

He smiled. “I’ll think about it. First, though, I must write that decree and the letter. No need to wake up Count Rasoulin now, he’ll find them ready. Vanya, tell Roman not to lose heart. I will figure this out.”

“I hope it’s sooner rather than later. Roman really wants to marry him.”

“It will take between week and ten days for my letter to reach him, and then another ten for his reply. Vasily, I think we will need a smith’s apprentice to join us, to make sure all our weapons are sharp at all times. And…” He grinned. “You never heard this from me, promise.”

They nodded.

“If no one catches two unmarried people together, how one can know what they are doing? I wouldn’t.” He smiled. “The stables tend to be empty of people in the afternoons…”

“And there is that shed with the tools at the end of the chicken coop,” Irina said. “No one uses it except for mornings and evenings, when people take and bring back things.”

“And the cellar in Sana’s tavern. Only she goes down there, and I am certain she will never see anything.” Vanya grinned. “I will tell him what I never heard.”

“I will do my best, I swear,” Elik told them as he ran upstairs to write to His Husband. It truly was a matter of life and death; he could not waste time. “And finish making the jam,” he shouted. “I want to send it to His Majesty.”

“I don’t know how to make jam,” Irina shouted back, her voice covering Vasily saying something that sounded like 'He really is the prince of love'. 

Goodness, he’d have to come down and instruct them? Well, it seemed so. He hurried, picked up his portable writing desk and implements, and ran down again. Vanya cleared a section of the table as he saw him.

“Peel, core and cut the apples,” he told them as he sat. “Let me know when you are done.” He took out the ink, his quill and the papers, and started writing, the sounds of Irina, Vanya, and Vasily softly chatting about where unmarried people could hide as they prepared the fruit calming.

_My Heart, My Light, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you?_

_I am well, but missing you so terribly. How can I miss you so much?_

Especially since Nikolaj’s anger frightened him so, and he felt that His Husband was dissatisfied with him ever since he had returned because of Ivanof’s coup. Why couldn’t he be glad that he was away? 

_I have just become aware of a great injustice and, it really is my fault for not looking into it sooner. It really is – I tend to think that if I let sleeping dogs lie, then they will lie forever. As if I don’t know that when they will wake up, they will be dangerous._

_My Husband, I was just informed that until recently, husbands like me could appear at court, but all that changed a few years ago. I wish that to change… or, is this one of the situations where I must use the royal ‘we’? We wish to change that. We feel isolated at a Court filled only with Ladies._

Should he write that his guards were his only friends? Maybe not. What if His Husband got jealous, and then got angry at him? More angry than he already was. 

_I have an additional reason to ask this now, My Husband. One of my guards, one of my best singers, has fallen in love with a man from Jedlowa and wants to do the honourable thing and marry him. As a soldier whose service will end by his death, he cannot resign or wait until retirement, and as one of my guards, he cannot be with his lover while he serves under me.  
I could have him transferred to another regiment, but that will only solve the problem temporarily, until the next one of my guards falls in love with a man. Isn’t it better to solve this problem now, and allow me to receive husbands at court? _

_I know I promised I would write no more, but could you consider this decree? Please?_

_Yours while I have breath,_

_Your Elik_

“I’ve never written a decree before,” he told them, and then went back to writing.

_Hereby, we decree that husbands married to other men (sometimes called ‘male wives’ among the Bosilik) can be presented at Court and take part in all aspects of Court life._

_By command of the Most Mighty and Good Sovereign of the Bosilke Empire,_

He left it blank for Nikolaj’s signature. “I’m done. Can I help?”

“We are almost done with the preparation,” Vasily told him. “Then what?”

“I… let me write one more thing, and I’ll be at your service.”

_p.s. I am sending you some apple jam that I made tonight. I couldn’t sleep, and then, for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking how much you like sweet dumplings and how, if you were here, or I were there, I would make them for you. So, I am sending you some jam for the cooks to prepare them for you in my place. Oh, My Husband, I miss you so much, it hurts._

He sighed. He really did miss him. If only love was an ingredient that he could put into his jam – would His Husband be able to taste it and stop being unhappy with him?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies. There will be singing and dancing from now on to more fake folk songs based on real ones.

_My darling,_

_How are you? Our messengers must have crossed each other. I hope that by now you will have received my last letter about the changes We will implement regarding military service._

_Your letter, though, made Us realise one more thing. Soldiers should be able to retire, if there is need for that. Not for marrying their sweethearts, of course, but in the case they become the sole caregivers of their parents or the only providers of their family. Or other such circumstances. We will add that to the changes. Thank you for bringing that to Our attention._

_As for your decree, We have ratified it and sent it across the Empire. Please find a copy with this missive for your own personal archives. I hope your guard is happy with his Quhjani husband – I know I am with mine._

_Before I forget, thank you for the jam. I did have it in sweet dumplings and with my breakfast and it is such a shame that you did not make more. I loved it. Ah, why did I let you go on a journey? I should have placed under house arrest, and make you cook for me all day and sleep with me all night. Too late for that now…_

_Your letter found me on the way to Ivanhof. Darling, it will be difficult being there without you. I know I have promised you to be faithful and not take others in my bed, but my bed has been rarely empty. Without you, it feels too big and too cold and my hand is simply not as satisfying. Can you free me from my promise?_

_Your ever-loving husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

Elik put down the letter. The more he read it, the sadder it made him feel. Even His Husband’s acknowledgment that he had inspired him changing the military service did not make him feel better. 

Sighing, he started writing. 

_My Heart,_

_The last thing I want is to cause you any pain or suffering. Please, forgive my cruelty to make you promise me that you will not sleep with others, when I am not there to take care of your needs. I release you from it, My Husband._

_Your Elik_

He signed it, pushed it aside and started crying. He should have been grateful that His Husband had chosen to be honest, but it hurt so much to know that he’d share him. Who knew? Perhaps he’d lose him to whomever Nikolaj chose to take as his bedmate. 

Oleg suddenly put his paws on his legs and tried to lick his face. Such a dear pet. Wiping his eyes, he pushed Oleg aside, and got out, Oleg behind him. Count Rasoulin was in the dining room, writing. “This is for His Majesty. Please make sure he receives it as fast as possible. It is very important.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Also, inform everyone that His Majesty has approved my decree about the reception of married men at my Court. Especially Private Gratchanov.” He handed the copy to the Count and smiled. “We would like to leave as soon as possible, but not before Private Gratchanov’s wedding. Can you make the arrangements for that?”

Count Rasoulin smiled back. “With pleasure, Your Majesty.”

Elik walked out and Oleg followed him. He could go riding, he decided. It was time for Oleg’s exercise anyway, so why not? Riding would give him an excuse not to talk to anyone for a while, since he couldn’t be alone, not with one or two of his guards with him. But after Roman got married, then they could leave. Perhaps forever. 

&*&*

_My sweet, sweet darling,_

_How kind you are to Your suffering Husband. You know I would never ask for this favour if you were here with me, you know it. Tell me you do._

_Your loving and suffering Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. My darling – your letter was so short. Were you angry at me?_

_p.p.s. Honestly, since I told my Ministers that Our Consort was so Sweet and Caring and Noble as to release Us from Our vow, I am introduced to beautiful young ladies – and some men – at each dinner. But I will not upset you more by taking someone new to my bed. I have decided to take Oerestand. You know I never liked him much, but he is young and strong. I think I will be able to train him to take me, without breaking him._

Elik put the letter down and forced himself to calm down. He could imagine Nikolaj’s smug and amused expression, and his tone, driving him to irritation. A second later, as if Nikolaj was there, he lost it. “What do you take me for? Why do you tease me like this?”

Trying not to scream, he started writing his reply. 

_My Heart, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_Why do you tease me so? Asking me if I’m angry at you. If I am angry at someone, that is at myself. I should have anticipated your needs._

He should have known that the fairy-tale of marital fidelity and bliss he had wanted and thought he’d finally had would not last. Not with His Husband being such a lust-driven, passionate man. Once he had stopped crying himself to sleep, he let himself be angry at himself for thinking that Nikolaj could be as loyal to him as he was to him, and for being so stupid. 

His stupidity knew no ends. 

He had to stop being jealous once and for all. Nikolaj wouldn’t change. But he could. Perhaps. He wasn’t so stupid as to think that if he crossed the borders of the Empire he’d be safe, but once he crossed them, no one could force him to return according to the schedule. He could travel and travel and, at some point, return to Nikolaj. 

If Nikolaj even wanted him back by then. He might have found someone else to torment with his cruel and teasing ways. 

_But must you tell me about Oerestand? I remember him very well. I do hope they did not follow all the rules with him, the way they didn’t with me. He was an exquisite youth, but now he must be turning into a most handsome young man._

__

__

__

__

_I hope he will please you and satisfy you._

_Your ever-faithful husband,_

_Your Elik_

He sealed and stamped the letter and went to the living room, Oleg following quietly behind him. Count Rasoulin really had made the large table into his office, while Vassily had taken the corner for himself. “Gentlemen, how are the preparations for our departure going?”

They stood up immediately. “We are ready to leave tomorrow,” Vasily said. 

“The Council of Elders have arranged a celebration in your honour tonight,” Count Rasoulin told him. 

No wonder they had not made him attend a meeting that morning. “Good. I’m going riding.” He handed the letter to the Count. “As you can see there is no need to keep a copy of this one.” He hoped His Husband wouldn’t make one. 

Vasily followed him out. “I’ll send Vanya to accompany you?”

“He’s still married to Sana. Let him enjoy himself. Can’t I just have Oleg?” He asked, petting his head, and Oleg wagged his tail happily. Vasily gave him an annoyed look. “Yes, we’ve had this discussion before,” he nodded. “Leonid? Or Maxim, then?”

Vasily nodded and walked down with him. 

“You know, I think tonight is your chance.”

Vasily froze, his expression panicked. 

“To teach me how to drink. I don’t want to be sober tonight.” He grinned. “I’ve been sober for far too long. I’m tired of it. I wonder how it feels to fly.”

“What?”

“We have a drink. I think it’s like your vodka. The first sip is good, the second better, the third makes you fly. I want to try that. I have no idea how one drinks, so you will be my teacher.”

Vasily made a face. He opened his mouth to speak, but at Elik’s glance he stayed quiet. “Well, there are only two rules: eat something greasy before drinking, and drink a lot of water during and after.”

“Great. I think I can manage these. And if I don’t…”

“Don’t worry, I will look after you.”

“Thanks. See you later,” He went back to get his horse. “We’ll go riding, Oleg,” he smiled as he started walking more slowly. “And tomorrow, we leave.”

&*&*

Dinner was boring. Conversation was boring. The music was boring. And drinking? That was the only good thing about it. Elik put his glass down. “This is nice,” he said in a low voice. 

Vasily nodded wisely. Irina frowned. 

“But the music is awful.”

Councilman Grigorief glanced at the other Elders. “Your Majesty, we thought that you would prefer the music of the capital.”

Elik shook his head. “I’m home. I want our music here. Not that.” He grinned at Anton, his Choir Master. “Sorry. But I’m not sorry,” he laughed. He stood up. “I want Quhjani music. I want…” He glanced at the musicians and grinned. He climbed on the table, jumped down, surprised that the distance between the table and the floor was greater than he’d thought (the dais, he’d forgotten about the dais), and ran to them. “I want to hear, You lied to me,” he whispered to them. “Now.”

He turned around and came face to face with Vasily. “I am drunk and undig.. something?”

Vasily nodded as the musicians started playing You lied to me. 

“I don’t care,” he told him. “Dance with me?” He didn’t wait for Vasily to answer, grabbed his arm and led him to the middle of the room. “I want to forget. Everything,” he told him as they whirled to the music. 

To his credit, Vasily did his best to follow the dance, even though he didn’t know it. “You have to drink a lot more than what you drank so far to forget everything.”

“Ah, you are right, Teacher.” He grinned. “But I have drank enough for now. I feel everything spin. But spinning is not like flying. They lied. Everyone lied. You lied to me, you deceived me,” he sang. “Not you. He did. I want to leave.”

“We are leaving tomorrow.”

“No, leave leave. If I defected, would you bring me back?”

“If you defect, you will be a liar too,” Vasily told him. “You said you are our friend. That you care for the common folk and the soldiers. Will you lie to us? Will you deceive us? Will you let us down?”

Clever Vasily, using the song to ask him if he would prove false. Could he do it? “No, I will not,” he vowed. “I will go back when this mess is over. Or after I see all the marvellous things there are to see. The King of Ustvela wrote he would let me see the sea. The sea!”

“I haven’t seen the sea either. None of us has.”

“Then we’ll all see it together. You’re supposed to turn the other way. Never mind. I’ll teach you how to dance this song, if you take care of me. Everything is really moving fast, Vasily. I’m not feeling very well.”

Vasily grabbed him and dragged him out of the Hall. Elik didn’t feel his feet touch the ground. Was that what they meant when they said that drinking made you feel like flying? 

Vasily almost threw him out the moment the servants opened the door, and the cold air struck him immediately, sobering him a little. He leaned against the wall, but his stomach protested even that movement. A moment later he was on his knees, Vasily holding him by the shoulder and pushing his hair back as he threw up. His belly hurt and his throat burned. “Shit,” he managed before vomiting again. “Sorry,” he said when he was done. 

“I’ve seen worse,” Vasily grinned. “Feeling better?”

He nodded weakly. “I think so.” The world was no longer spinning, and his head felt clearer. His stomach wasn’t happy with him, though. He found his handkerchief, wiped his mouth, and smiled gratefully at Vasily. “Maybe I should retire now. But I want to listen to You lied to me again. Is it an abuse of power if I ask them to play it again?”

“Everything you see is yours. You can do as you wish.”

Elik frowned. It was, wasn’t it? He looked around and stretched his arms. “This is Alexandrov land. Even before there was Quhjan, even before there was Jedlowa.” He stood up slowly. “Yes, everything I see here is truly mine.” He smiled. “I want everyone to see the land they stand on with the same pride and sense of peace that I feel now. One land, belonging to all.”

Vasily grinned. “That’s a treasonous thought.”

“No, no, I don’t mean it like that.” He looked up at the clear dark sky, glittering with thousands of stars. “I know that it is the way of the world that some people will own the land, and others will work it, and I can’t change that. Not without bloodshed. No, no, I don’t want bloodshed. I want everyone to feel that they belong here. We’re all the same under Father Sky, born from the same Mother Land.” He laughed. “I’m really drunk.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Vasily said very quietly. 

Elik closed his eyes. One land, where everyone would feel that they belonged and they could find their place. Where everyone was respected, because they were all the same, all children of Mother Land under Father Sky. What a beautiful Land that would be. 

&*&*

_My Husband,_

_We left Jedlowa this morning. Late morning. The Council of Elders had a celebration in my honour last night and I tried drinking. I was not in a state to leave early in the morning._

_How do you manage?_

_Drinking is not for me. You can have all the wine and vodka and everything else in the world. Water is enough for me._

_Your ever-loving husband,_

_Your Elik_

He sealed and stamped the letter and gave it to Dima, who was waiting outside the carriage. Then he closed the door and their carriage started moving slowly. 

“And off he goes,” he smiled as Dima started running to the Count so that he could send the letter to His Husband. “What made you decide to come with me?” he turned to Irina. “Until last morning you hadn’t decided. Did my despicable behaviour last night make you change your mind?”

Irina laughed. “At least you went outside when you started feeling badly. Do you remember One-eyed Ivan, and how he’d got so drunk on Nadjzeska’s wedding that he threw up on her?”

“That was years ago,” he laughed. 

“It was,” she agreed. 

“Irina, would you mind terribly if we were quiet? My head still hurts.” At least he did not feel queasy anymore. When they had first tried to leave, early in the morning and according to schedule, Elik had to ran out of the carriage, go straight into the house, and throw up again. 

“No. Maybe you should get some rest.” She picked up a book. “I’ll just read.”

“Thank you.” He glanced out at the people waving him off. “Oh.” He sat up and started waving at them with a smile. 

“What are you doing? I thought you wanted to sleep.”

“I must wave and smile. It’s part of my duties.” He grinned. “I bet they are glad to see me go, the living reminder that we are under Bosilke rule.”

“What are you talking about? You are our Quhjani king on the throne of the Empire, and you have secured our autonomy.”

How he wished he could believe her, but she was his sister who’d always take his side, even when he was being stupid. “The Council Members did not make me feel very welcome,” he reminded her. 

“Because they’re idiots. They are afraid you will come here and rule them, as it is your right, if you choose to exercise it. But,” she looked out, “If I had grown used to life in the capital, I wouldn’t come back here.”

“Life here is not bad.”

She turned towards him, her expression clear: she couldn’t decide if she was amused or annoyed. “Eli, during these weeks, you complained about the lack of running water, the inefficient way of heating rooms, the lack of lights in the streets at night, that people still throw their waste to the street from their windows, that no one picks up horse manure from the streets, and that the police is never there where people start fighting at the market place or the taverns. What did you like about life here? Riding your horse with Oleg running behind you for hours, and cooking. You can do that at the capital, can’t you?”

He petted Oleg with his free hand, and Oleg opened one eye to look at him for a moment and stretched his front legs over Elik’s lap. “Yes, but not for as many hours.” His duties towards the Ladies and the Court did not allow for more than an hour or two of riding or training every day. Since he didn’t want to talk about the Ladies, he decided to focus on the discussion. “Did I really complain about so many things?”

She nodded. 

“If I had the power, I would change these things.”

“You do,” she said annoyed, “You just don’t want to exercise it.”

“Irina, my head hurts too much for this discussion.”

“You could command the Council to do things.”

“The whole point of having a Council is that the decisions are taken collectively and consensually. No one commands the Council.”

“The King of Quhjan and Empress of Bosilke can. If he wanted.”

“Do you want me to command them?” he asked her.

“I want you to be happy. If modernising Jedlowa makes you happy, then you should modernise it.”

He thought about what Irina had been telling him these last weeks, and how she was right. He was so focused on not upsetting anyone, and keeping everyone happy, as Lady Ekaterina had taught him that an Empress ought to do, so frustrated over Nikolaj not paying attention to him when he was stressed and needed help, so depressed that Nikolaj was mad at him and he didn’t know why, so miserable that two months of work on the abolition bill had been appropriated and misused, that he’d stopped trying to be better and do good. 

Even this trip was not an attempt to disassociate himself from the suspicion of treason, but an attempt to run away from the misery he felt at Ivanhof. Oh, how miserable he was there. Only his Guards were his friends, and he couldn’t really spend more time with them than the one or two hours of riding and training every morning. In the evenings, they were all so focused on entertaining that they never talked. And Nikolaj, who had been the one who kept him safe the first year at Ivanhof, had stopped seeing how he was struggling with the loneliness of life at the Palace, mocked him mercilessly, dismissed his ideas of change as the dreams of a child, and, in the week between Nikolaj’s return and Elik’s departure, Elik had felt that he’d done something to make Nikolaj mad at him. There had been something in his expression that whole week that had scared Elik. Did His Husband really think he was seditious? But he’d said he’d believed in his innocence. 

He ought to write to Nikolaj and tell him even more clearly that he needed help to find his enemies and punish them, reactions of the court be damned. His departure must have left them free to plot against him as much as they wished. He was certain that they were pulling the strings of most of the beautiful young men and women that had been introduced to His Husband, and that they would probably try to manipulate Oerestand next. He was a beautiful youth. With the right guidance, he could win over His Husband. 

He sighed. He didn’t want to think of them. He didn’t want to think that, last time he’d asked Nikolaj for help, Nikolaj didn’t even notice. He wanted to leave the Empire, and see marvellous things. He wanted to see the sea. 

But Irina was truly right; sight-seeing and dwelling on the past was not making him happy. No one could be happy all the time, but being unhappy all the time was not good either. He grinned. “You know what? You are right. Once we leave Jedlowa and I can stop waving, and use my hand, we will make a list of all the things that need to be changed in order to make Jedlowa a modern city. And when we are done, and have gone over it twice to make sure we haven’t missed anything, We will command the Council to change things.”

“We? You will command them.”

“I was trying to use the royal ‘We’. It didn’t work?”

Irina laughed. 

Elik was so glad she was there. He had missed her so much. He was certain that the marvellous things would be even more marvellous with her to share them with him.


	10. Chapter 10

Nikolaj put his darling’s latest letter aside. His letters had been getting shorter and shorter ever since he’d asked him to free him of his promise to be faithful. His sweet darling, he smiled. He was probably seething with jealousy while trying to be an accommodating husband. 

Ah, if his darling were there, he could have teased him for it, made him mad, and then they would have enjoyed their coupling. Elik really had no idea how beautiful he was when he was angry: even though Nikolaj had told him, his words were not enough to make Elik believe it. 

He hoped Oerestand would be at least as obedient and pliant as his darling. He didn’t expect him to enjoy things much, but if Oerestand was obedient, at least he would enjoy himself. He sat waiting on the bed. The moment Oerestand came in the room and the doors closed behind him, he gestured for him to stip. As Oerestand removed his dressing gown and then his night shirt, he took off his own garment and pointed at his cock. “Come here and start sucking me,” he said. 

The young man bowed deeply and approached him with lowered eyes. When he was in front of him, he knelt down, opened his mouth and took the tip inside him. 

Nikolaj looked down. The young man had lips that seemed made for this, the upper lip a perfect bow, full and red, the lower one thick like a succulent fruit, yet, it was clear he had no experience. Even more clear was that he had no enthusiasm either. He had wrapped his lips around Nikolaj, yet his tongue was not touching him. Worst of all, he looked away from him. 

Why hadn’t he taken one of the ladies or the men that had been introduced to him? No one would care that their innocence had been taken, if the one taking it was Nikolaj. No, that wouldn’t do, he reminded himself; no matter how enthusiastic they had all seemed, if he took a free noblewoman to his bed, he’d make his jealous darling even more jealous. Taking Oerestand had been the wise choice; he couldn’t give him children to use them as leverage to elevate his position, and his darling had already seen him and approved him. 

“Use your tongue to caress me,” he instructed him, wrapping his fingers in Oerestand’s soft curls. His hair was fine, as fine as Elik’s, but the colour was deeper, a dark red that reminded him of fine wine. 

Oerestand looked up, clearly not knowing what he’d said.

Nikolaj stuck his tongue out, touched it and then pointed at his dick. Oerestand grimaced. “I’m clean,” he growled. He’d even taken a proper bath. “Why are you making that face?”

Oerestand didn’t answer. Nikolaj closed his eyes, trying not to get angry. Fucking almost-virgins was hard work. Especially reluctant virgins who looked like they would rather be as far away from him as possible. His darling too had been terrified of his dick on the morning of their very first wedding, but at least he’d begged him to let him use his hands to please him instead of his ass. And that was when Nikolaj had hit him. Annoyed, he pushed Oerestand away. He wasn’t that person anymore. He couldn’t train Oerestand the way he had trained his darling. 

Moaning, the young man let him go, dragging his teeth against his sensitive flesh for a second. 

“You dog,” Nikolaj shouted, checking his dick and kicking Oerestand away from him. There was no blood but it hurt. “You piece of shit.” He stood up and started kicking him. “You thrice-cursed son of a whore.”

Oerestand curled into a ball, protecting his face with his arms, and started crying from pain and shouting back at him in his language. Then he started screaming at him in Bosilik. “Please, no more.” Despite the thick accent, the words were clear. 

Nikolaj froze. He took a step back and studied Oerestand. He’d have bruises where Nikolaj kicked him but Nikolaj didn’t think he’d hurt him more than that. Sighing, he sat on the armchair by his desk. Hadn’t he told himself he wasn’t that person anymore? 

Oerestand stayed where he was, whimpering and muttering to himself in his language. He looked pathetic and pitiful. 

No wonder his darling didn’t want them to have slaves anymore. Slaves just looked sad when you fucked them, and looked even worse when you taught them their place, either pathetic or resentful. “What is your name?” he asked once the young man’s whimpers had turned into sniffles.

“Kove. Your Majesty.”

He nodded. “You may have it.” He couldn’t help but smirk for a moment. “I see they let you keep your balls.”

Kove frowned, clearly not understanding. Nikolaj touched his own balls, and the young man went beet red. “I … they…”

“I’ll ask them about it,” he said. 

“They say you like,” Kove managed, the words awkward. 

Did no one ever talk to this one? He could understand Bosilik, but clearly he couldn’t speak it. “Yes,” he said, and Kove reddened again. “But you don’t like it that I like them?”

“I…” Kove lowered his head. 

“Out with it,” he said, curious and impatient at the same time. 

“I not like men,” he whispered. “But they choose me. I not ask for this,” he said, and started crying again. “I not.”

Nikolaj waited until he’d stopped crying. In the name of all his honoured ancestors, Kove was pathetic. “They chose you because of your hair, and your eyes.” He did have beautiful eyes. And hair, and mouth. And body. But Kove didn’t like men, and he didn’t want Nikolaj. Not when they were first married, and not at that moment. And Nikolaj did not want someone who didn’t want him, either then or at that moment. He got up, picked up Kove’s clothes and gave them to him. 

Kove grabbed them and held on to them, still curled in as small a ball as possible.

With a sigh, he pulled on his chemise. “And what were you, before they chose you? A soldier?” He mimicked saluting and stabbing forward. 

Kove nodded miserably. 

“Do you have any noble blood in your veins?”

Kove stared at him, eyes wide and scared as he shook his head. 

“Me, noble,” Nikolaj pointed at himself. “You? Noble?”

Kove reddened. “Grandmother, baron’s daughter. But… parents not married. She marries groom. Not grandfather.”

Nikolaj snorted. Mark would win this bet. They sent him a bastard’s grandson. How hilarious. He should continue his war against Oerestand for this slight alone. “Get some rest, Kove,” he said as he went to the small door that guarded the passage to his darling’s bedroom. “I won’t disturb you.”

“Your Majesty,” he said, sounding relieved. Even when he hadn’t understood what Nikolaj was saying, he had understood that Nikolaj was leaving him alone. 

With a snort, Nikolaj opened the door and then locked it behind him. How many times in the past had this corridor brought his darling to him? Ah, why was his darling so far away from him? And Elik was mad at him, he was certain of it. Perhaps he ought to stop teasing him so much. 

Tired, he opened the door to his darling’s bedroom. When he looked around, the room was unchanged, as if his darling was still there. It hurt, to be surrounded by his darling’s presence, to see his hair brush on the dresser, his gown on the chair, his note papers on the desk but not see him. He sat on Elik’s side of the bed and looked at the cupboard of his side-table. 

He’d never been tempted to open it in the past, but with only memories of his darling to keep him company, the urge to see what was in there and see if he would discover something new about him was too great. Perhaps Elik had hidden something so dark and shameful that he’d make him fall out of love. That would make life easier for him, wouldn’t it? With a sigh, he opened it.

There was a plain, wooden box at one side, a pouch with dried roses and lavender that still smelled sweetly, and a stack of blank papers, a quill and an inkpot. His darling loved the written word. Perhaps the box might hold that horrifying something, he decided. He took it out and found it locked. 

That gave him pause. His darling didn’t keep secrets from him, or so he thought. Yet, there it was, a small, locked box, inside a cupboard, hidden from prying eyes. With a frown, Nikolaj threw the box against the wall and watched it break. Little pieces of paper flew out, and scattered on the floor. Even more curious, he went to the other side of the room, sat down and picked up the one closest to him.

It was a drawing of them, or rather a caricature. His nose looked large, his eyes were tiny, and his expression lecherous. His darling was naked, but for a net, and looked demurely down. ‘His Majesty’s Old Whore’, someone had written underneath. As if burned, he threw it down and picked the next one. Just a line. ‘A male Empress is a worthless Empress.’ 

There were so many of them, each one more disgusting than the other. One-liners calling his darling ‘worthless’ and ‘slut’ and ‘foreign slave shit’. Drawings of him fucking and strangling a swan at the same time, or of him carving up a swan. A swan with Elik’s head, as if whoever had drawn that had to leave no doubts as to his intentions. A drawing of his darling fucked by a horse, while others waited in line. His darling fucked by his guards, while the court ladies danced. His darling’s head on a raised pike, next to Ivanof’s cut head. ‘This is what you deserve’, most of them said underneath. 

There were just so many. His love must have been receiving one every three or four days during the time they’d lived together at Ivanhof as Husband and Husband. Horrified and angry, Nikolaj gathered them all, put them back in the broken box, and went outside. 

The guard at the corridor stared at him in shock. 

“Get the Chancellor and the Chief of the Secret Police to my study,” he shouted. “Now.” He hurried there, furious.

A few moments after he’d walked inside, the guard announced their arrival. Artemi was half-dressed, wearing trousers and a coat, but Mark still had his nightcap on and he was wearing a thick overcoat over his nightshirt and his slippers. 

Nikolaj ordered the doors shut and then threw the contents of the box on his desk. “This,” he growled. “This.”

“Your Majesty?” Mark asked him very quietly.

He banged his fist on the desk. “This is treason,” he shouted. He turned to Artemi. “Find out who are responsible for this. They drove Our One and Only away from Us. And they will pay. If you don’t, We will cut all their heads off. Treacherous, vile dogs. We let them enjoy their privileged positions, and gave them gifts after gifts, and how do they reward Us?” He pushed some of the papers away with the back of his hand. “By hounding Our Spouse and Consort out of here.” He sat heavily down. 

Mark and Artemi leaned over the table and studied the pieces of paper. Mark looked horrified, but Artemi only looked grimmer and grimmer. “May I?” Artemi asked.

He nodded and let him gather them all back in the box. “Find them, Artemi, and some in the court will be spared.”

Artemi nodded, and walked out, box in his hand as if it were a fire, dangerous and devouring. Nikolaj felt like Artemi was carrying the weight of his fury with him. 

Mark frowned as Nikolaj bade him sit. 

“Even if I wanted to be merciful, I can’t, Mark. Did you see the drawings? Did you see how they portrayed me? Like a lecherous murderer without any self-control. And my poor darling.” He shook his head, feeling sick. No wonder his darling had kept telling him that he was not worthy of him, and he had hated being called a whore, even though Nikolaj had meant it as a compliment to his darling’s prowess and eagerness. These people had made his darling think he was… He shook his head again. “No, I cannot and will not forgive them.” He sighed. “My poor darling. No wonder he left as fast as he could.”

Mark smiled. “I think you don’t give him enough credit, Nikolaj.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you see how many there were? They must have been harassing him for months, yet he hadn’t said a thing and behaved as if nothing bothered him. He is a strong person, Nikolaj. If he left, it was not because of them. It was because of his own sense of having failed at his duty.”

Nikolaj closed his eyes for a moment, tired beyond belief now that his anger had left him. Mark had a point, but he hadn’t seen Elik almost crying at the thought that he was not good enough. These worthless pieces of shit had made his darling doubt himself. 

“He did tell the Ladies that he was going on exile, and he could not let them share the weight of this shame or something like that,” Mark told him. 

He took a deep breath. “He didn’t want the Ladies to join him,” he told Mark. “But he didn’t want to insult them. Mark, He is too good for this court full of filth. Of course, he left it.” He stood up. “Tell me, did you make any progress with what I had asked you?”

“Which task?”

“The one to limit the powers of the Empress,” he said as he started pacing in the room.

“Not as much as I would have liked, but I think I have found some ways to do it. I just need a bit more time to go over some of our oldest laws, dating back to the period before the institution of main wives.”

Nikolaj nodded. “Good, however, this will not be necessary anymore.” He stopped and glared towards the door, wishing he could see past them and find all those thrice-cursed bastards and burn them. “Mark,” he turned towards his friend. “You saw what they wrote, and he’s my One and Only Empress right now. His position did not stop them. His power did not frighten them. If I were to limit his powers, if anything were to happen to me, what would they do to Him?”

Mark frowned. “He’s not a defenceless child. The army will support him, and the people.”

“I have no doubt about that.” That was precisely what had frightened him. His darling was the soldiers’ darling. “But, what if one of my cousins declared himself emperor? My cousins’ claims to the throne are weaker to my dar.. my Consort’s, but only as long as my Consort is my equal. If he is not, then they can easily sway the nobles to their side. Besides, he will never be an Empress Mother. He will never have the power that an Empress has as Mother of the One and True Heir, that can rally the nobility to her side. My cousin would have the nobles and my dar… fuck it, my darling will have the army. It would mean civil war, and do you think he would let that happen?” He had an even more frightening thought. “If they promised him exile instead of a civil war, he’d take it, and then they would kill him. Or…” He shook his head, not daring to think more about the possibility of his darling killing himself instead of fighting for his crown. 

Mark stayed silent. 

“If We limit his powers, We will be leaving him defenceless against his enemies. And he has enemies. We still don’t know who stole his fucking draft, and now this. Even if We find and punish all those bastards who hounded him out of here, nothing can assure Us that others won’t take their place. Mark?”

“Yes?”

“If he remains my equal, he will be safe, after…” It was bad luck to say it. “You know.”

Mark looked up, thinking. Then he turned towards him. “That is the whole point of the main wife institution,” he said, looking annoyed at him for a second. Then he relaxed. “I think, if he remains your equal, that will give him something to fight if anyone dares to rebel against him. He has a very strong sense of his duty as your Consort, and your Husband. I know he will fight to protect your empire, and your life’s work. And when you choose an heir, he will fight for your heir, only because you chose him.” 

Nikolaj closed his eyes. His darling was too good for him too. He suddenly stood up. “Our Consort is too good for this court, but He loves Us and will come back to Us. When He comes back, he will find Us ready for Him. Mark, I need to talk to the Royal Architect. Can you send him here?”

Mark snorted. “In the middle of the night?” 

He laughed. “That is true, what I have in my mind was not as urgent as seeing you and Artemi. It can wait until morning.”

“Thank you.” He stood up slowly and didn’t move away, waiting. 

He decided to answer Mark’s curiosity. “I’ll make a place just for us, Mark. A place where we can be free from etiquette.” A place with a big kitchen so that his darling could prepare him delicious meals, and a big bath that would fit both of them easily, and… He grinned. “I am suddenly tempted to have a little garden with a chicken coop at the back.”

“He will like that,” he snorted. “Should I tell My Lady to let him know, and so perhaps entice him to return?”

“No, no, He will come when He wants. I promised Him that.” Although, if Artemi found out who had been tormenting his darling, he’d tell Mark to tell his Lady to let Him know He could return, and Nikolaj would line the streets with their corpses when His darling returned. 

With a nod, Mark left him alone in his study. He dipped his quill in ink and looked at the sheet in front of him. He had to be careful with what he wrote. His darling didn’t like it when Nikolaj got angry with him, and he was quite mad at him for hiding these notes and so, protecting those treacherous bastards with his silence, so he had to keep that from his letter. Why hadn’t his darling told him about these notes? And, even if he hadn’t told him, why hadn’t he told the Chief of Police or that of the Secret Police? 

He thought back at something Elik had written him some days earlier. He thought if he let sleeping dogs lie, they would stay sleeping. He sighed. For a clever man, Elik could be remarkably stupid at times. Or maybe naïve. Didn’t he know that one should let sleeping dogs lie, but also carry a stick to beat them, in case they woke up and became aggressive? 

Unless his darling still didn’t know what it meant to be his Empress? His darling knew of his duties and responsibilities, but did he even know the privilege that came with the job? He’d been so surprised when Nikolaj had given him Oleg, but what if that wasn’t just because of the gift only, but because Elik didn’t know that he could go to the kennels and choose a dog – any dog, if he wanted a pet to keep him company? 

Should he have taken more care to educate his darling in these things? But his darling was not a child, how could he have imagined that he wouldn’t know that every job had its perks? Perhaps he should have, though. His darling had grown up in a city that was still living as if his great-grandfather were still alive, and had been raised to serve his country and his people. His idea of fun was dancing and listening to music, but even that he’d turned into work.

For his darling, the only perk of the exalted position he had was that he could buy books, Nikolaj sighed. Everything else was work and duty, and he hadn’t realised it because his Elik was so competent and smart that he thought he was doing well. He thought he could trust him. “I can trust him with my Empire,” he muttered, “but I shouldn’t have trusted him to know that everything that is mine is his.” Not just the duties, but the privileges too. 

He took a deep breath and lifted his quill. 

_Ivanhof, 1st of Spring,_

_My darling, my sweet darling,_

_How are you?_

_I took Oerestand to my bed last night._

He was tempted to leave it at that for a moment, but what would be the fun of teasing his jealous darling when he couldn’t see his eyes shine, or his expression change from angry/hurt to obediently accepting? Ah, how could he think that anyone else would do? No one else was like his darling.

But maybe he should stop teasing him so much. It had been days since the last time his darling had asked about the inquest and when he could come back home to him. It was as if he didn’t care anymore about it, but what if it was because he didn’t want to come back anymore? He shivered. 

_I should be accurate. I tried to take him to my bed. The experience was even more horrible than the first time I took him. He didn’t want to be there, and he kept crying this time too. And what was even more horrible was that you weren’t there to wash the filth off me. The mental filth, the disgust I felt at the idea of fucking someone who hated the act and who possibly hated me. Because I didn’t get very filthy this time as we didn’t do anything._

He decided not to write to his darling that they had done something, and that Oerestand sucked his cock. Nor did he write that he beat him because he got mad at him. His darling didn’t like it when he got angry. Was it because he'd hit him when they were first married? And then had told him he'd punish his refusals by letting the guards rape him? Was his darling still afraid of that? He shuddered. 

_I suppose I could take someone else to my bed. It’s not like I’m lacking in offers, but… “_ How could he write to his darling that he’d found his box with the notes, and that all the court suddenly felt as vicious and hostile to him as it must have felt to his darling? How could he take a lover from among his enemies? The only people he trusted were Mark and Lady Ekaterina, but, as fun as that might have been, he strongly suspected they would never agree to it unless Elik gave them his approval. He didn’t want to ask him that. 

“No one else but you will do,” he whispered and then wrote it because it had sounded good. 

_No one else but you will do. So, my sweet darling, be prepared. When you come back, you will find me starving for you._

Suddenly, all the desire he’d been experiencing filled him. How he missed his darling. How he wanted him home, in their bed. How he wanted…. And who was stopping him from writing that? No one. He was the Law, wasn’t he? He dipped his quill in ink and resumed writing. 

_Oh, my love, I want so much to have you lying on our bed. Naked against the dark purple covers with the emblem of Our House, so that We know that you are Ours, and You will know it too. You are mine, as I am yours._

_Darling, I want to kneel between your legs, and kiss them. I miss how you gasp when I kiss your ankles, and how you moan when I kiss the back of your knee, but most of all I miss how you shudder when I kiss the inside of your thigh, and how I have to hold you down with my hands so you won’t fly away from me. I am lying; what I miss the most, is how you shout when I take your pretty cock into my mouth and how your muscles tremble under my palm and my finger as I suck you and you come for me._

_I miss your smell, I miss your taste, I miss your noises, I miss your touches, I miss your body. I miss you._

_When you are back, I will have you lie in our bed and stay there until I’ve had my fill of you._

_Although, I may let you up so you can make sweet dumplings with home-made jam. Which we’ll share in bed. I’ve never tasted jam off your lips. I bet it would taste sweeter._

_And then, after we’ve had sweets, I’ll open you with my sticky fingers and my mouth and torment you with my kisses and my touches until you come for me. I will look at you as you pant and tremble after your climax, and caress your pretty cock again, until you’re hard and crying because of the pleasure._

_Then, and only then, I will slick myself and slide inside you as you look at me, only me, and I look at you, only you. You will embrace me and I will hold you, and lift you to sit on me so I can kiss you, and kiss you, and kiss you. A hundred, no, a thousand kisses will not be enough to satisfy me, my love. While I kiss you, you will dance on my dick, and you will shiver in my arms, as I try to hold back and not fuck you so fast that it will hurt for you, because I don’t want you to feel pain, not in my arms. And when I’m close to coming, I’ll take your cock in my hand and stroke you fast until we both come together._

_Fuck, Love. I’m in my study writing this and I’m so aroused right now, I need to take myself in my hand._

Nikolaj slid his hand under his nightshirt and it took only three strokes before he was coming, his pleasure so focused on his cock and his belly, it was incredible. He panted as his body relaxed after his orgasm. 

_Darling, That was good. But not as good as it would have been if you were here with me._

_You can’t see this, but believe me, I am now smiling, because what I really miss the most? Is talking to you afterwards. When you wrap your body around mine, and we’re both sticky and sweaty, and you smell like the headiest of perfumes, and you are warm and calm. When you tell me about your day, or what you think needs changing. When I tell you about my day, and what worries me._

_Darling, don’t ever stop listening to my concerns. Darling, don’t ever stop telling me your thoughts._

_You know you can tell me anything, right? ANYTHING. I am listening, even when you think I am not. I am listening, even when I act as if I don’t._

_My Elik, My Love, I miss you so much._

_Your ever-loving and faithful Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

He sighed as he folded, sealed and stamped his letter. Would his darling tell him about ‘the sleeping dogs’? He hoped he would, but even if he didn’t, Nikolaj would take care of them for him.

A knock on the door made him sit up. Count Njedzic came in with a folder in his hands. He looked at the window. When had night turned into dawn and dawn into day and he hadn’t realised? The Count coughed and he nodded. “Perhaps Your Majesty should get dressed first before dealing with his correspondence?”

“Yes. Unless there is a letter from Our Most Gracious Consort among them?”

His secretary opened the folder and took out a letter that he placed on the desk. 

Nikolaj took it and handed him the letter he’d written. “Send this immediately. And it must reach him as fast as it can.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” With a bow, he walked out. 

Nikolaj opened it. 

_Kazhat, two days after the Equinox (seven days before Spring – how did time pass?)_

_My Husband, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you?_

_I am well, although I miss you terribly._

_My Heart, it was so nice to be home, but compared to the Capital, my home is living in the past. I know I had promised not to be involved in politics anymore, but the situation is really deplorable. So, I am sending you a draft for a decree for a few changes at Quhjan that, I hope, will make life better for the people. I swear, I am not trying to interfere in Empire politics, but I am the King of my country, and so are you._

Nikolaj started laughing. Ah, his dutiful darling. How he had missed him, even as it made him sad that his love thought that he should not do politics anymore. They'd have a talk about that when his darling was back. 

_Please amend the draft as you see fit. When it is done, can you ratify it, sign and seal it and send it to me so I can also ratify it and send it back to Quhjan?_

_Apart from that, I have another thing to tell you. Please, don’t be mad at me._

Nikolaj felt his heart ache. What had he done to make his darling sound so apologetic and cautious? It felt like they were back at the beginning of their proper marriage, when his darling called him ‘His Lord’ all the time. He’d thought it was cute and playful, but his darling had thought he had to address him thus, because he was not his equal. 

What a bad habit. He shouldn’t let his darling keep it. Well, except maybe in their bedroom.

_At our first stop after Jedlowa, we stayed at an inn and, we were noisy and rowdy and… My Husband, there is no easy way of saying this, so I will go ahead and say it. The guards and I had a very big party. There was eating and drinking (a lot of it), there was music and dancing, and somehow, we invited the whole village and our little evening entertainment became a feast. I retired after a few hours, but the men continued partying till dawn._

_My Love? It was fun. Not just for the men (and believe me, they had A LOT of fun), but for me too. Now that we are out of the Empire and I am just a count travelling with his merry friends, seeing all that is marvellous, I would like… No, I will continue partying like that. If I have calculated correctly, I can afford it, since I haven’t been using my allowance for much all these years and you have agreed to give me a House for Our Wounded Soldiers as a gift, so I don’t have to worry about funding that._

_One could say that I did not have as much fun as my guards. I still don’t care much for drinking, although I can understand the appeal. I also don’t care much for fucking others, since no one else is you. But I loved dancing and I loved seeing everyone enjoy themselves. That was fun._

_I am sorry if it is not dignified for your Empress to jump around like one of the common folk, but I like the dances of our people. I promise never to do it at any Court during my travel, if I am invited at one, but I want to have my fun while I am away from Court, and I will have it. Forgive me._

_Yours as long as breathe,_

_Your Elik_

Ah, that ‘sorry, I’m not sorry’ expression. How he had missed it. How it maddened and amused and aroused him at the same time. He read the letter one more time. Yes, his darling was definitely still mad at him. Where were his earlier declarations of longing? This letter was part work, and part non-apology, with only the tiniest mention that he would not fuck others, while everyone else did, as if to reassure him of his continuous fidelity. 

Ah, his darling. In his place, he would have written page after page about the beauty of the guards, and tried to make him jealous. But not his Elik. With a smile, Nikolaj grabbed another sheet, dipped his quill in ink and started writing. 

_Ivanhof, 1st of Spring,_

_My Husband, My Darling, My Love,_

_To take a page from your book, Who do you think I am that I will mind if you have fun? Enjoy your travels, my sweet heart, and dance at the music of our people all night, if that is what you want._

_Honestly, I found myself worrying about you earlier, because the thought came to me that you don’t have enough fun. Nor do you exercise your privileges as my Consort – you only perform your duties. But even Our Most Perfect and Gracious Consort must enjoy himself, or the work will become too heavy. So, I am delighted to hear that you are enjoying yourself. Enjoy yourself as much as you want, as long as you want._

_And don’t apologise again for saying things to me. I wrote more about that in my previous letter, so here I will only repeat this: You can tell me ANYTHING._

_Your delighted Husband (who still misses you terribly),_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. My Darling, do not worry about expenses. It is time I increased your allowance, since our three-year anniversary is approaching, and you deserve it for being So Marvellous and Kind. And if you manage to spend all your personal money, just let me know. My Most Wonderful, Dance-loving Spouse and Consort should be able to indulge himself, or what kind of a Husband would I be, if I did not take care of my darling’s needs?_

Lady Irina was so right; his darling really was the best wife any man could have, keeping a careful eye on their expenses, but he was certain they could afford holding two courts at the same time. He’d also have to ask Count Nikits about his darling’s expenses. He needed to know if he had to prepare Dima for any extra expenses. 

_p.p.s. I will have a look at the draft you sent me in a moment. You are right; You and I are Kings of Quhjan and must take care of affairs in Our Country. Together, as it is proper._

_p.p.p.s. I love you and I miss you, darling_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boys just want to have fun!   
> and these boys like their singing and their dancing - sorry! :)

_p.p.s. Really, if you are mad, don’t hide it. If I’m a problem, tell me. I’ll understand. I know it hasn’t been easy on you, marrying someone like me, and after seeing how Western princesses noblewomen behave, I think you might have been happier with one of them_

Elik re-read his letter. All the spirits above and below, why was he like this? He scrunched the letter, threw it aside next to the other drafts, and read His Husband’s letter again. His Husband… did he mean it? Could he really tell him ANYTHING? Everything? 

Perhaps he should. No, he ought to. He couldn’t continue like this. “Husband, do you know what you ask of me? And do you have any idea what I will ask of you?” He kissed Nikolaj’s letter, picked up a new sheet, unfolded his previous letter, and started writing his reply again. 

_Krzydzov, 8th of Spring_

&*&*

Satisfied, feeling naked, feeling scared, feeling free, he sealed and stamped the letter and left his room, Oleg a faithful shadow next to him. 

Count Rasoulin frowned when he saw him. “You look happy,” he remarked, smiling. “Good news?”

“The best,” he said. “Please, send this to Hs Majesty. It must get to him as soon as possible.”

The Count smirked. “I wonder how many horses have died so far so that Your Majesties can get your letters ‘as soon as possible’.”

Elik grinned. In the two months of their journey, Count Rasoulin had relaxed more than he had in the past two years. “Not many, I hope. Horses are marvellous creatures, intelligent, independent, proud, yet, at the hands of the right person, they can become the best companions. Better than dogs, even.” Oleg looked up as if he knew they were talking about dogs, and Elik took a strip of dried beef from his pocket and gave it to him. “Not you, Oleg. No one could be better than you.”

Oleg ate the treat in one go and licked his fingers staring at him. When he started whining softly, Elik relented and gave him a second piece. “You greedy thing,” he laughed. “I’m sorry, Your Excellency, I have to make sure he gets enough exercise so he won’t get fat. Will you join us?”

“I have a meeting with His Excellency, the Ambassador.”

“Of course. We will see you at dinner?”

“Of course.”

He grinned, nodded, and went to see if Irina had finished with her morning lessons. If the advantage of palaces was privacy, the disadvantage was that he had to walk past so many rooms and acknowledge so many servants. And, he had to admit to himself; he was impressed. Duke Bjeliovic-Kontoff’s palace made Ivanhof look old-fashioned and in need of tearing down, not just redecorating. The only advantage that Ivanhof had was the heating system. And the running water.

How could people live without it?

Jedlowa would get running water before Krzydzov, he’d make sure of that. 

If he had a Husband and a place by his side by the time he returned. 

Irina snapped her fingers. “You were back at the empire. Thinking of His Majesty?”

He nodded and looked at her. Her lessons must have been over, as she had dressed for going out. “Coffee first?”

“Of course. How can people live without coffee?” She petted Oleg. “You look happy.”

“How sad did I look before? You’re the second person to tell me this this morning.”

“You looked pretty sad,” she nodded. “Who’s coming with us?” 

He had no idea. His guards had their own system for choosing his escorts among them, and he respected that. “Let’s see.” He gave his arm to Irina and she accepted it. “I’m excited about going to see the sea. The Sea.”

Irina laughed. “Is it just the sea that has made you so excited?” She winked. “Did His Majesty write something nice to you?”

“Why do you say that?”

She looked at him as if he were an idiot. 

He pulled her to the first room he saw empty and closed the door behind them. It was one more of the drawing rooms, with just a few chairs pushed to the side and great gilded mirrors on the walls on either side of the wall with the windows. The room was painted light yellow, no doubt so as to match the gold of the mirrors. Like the rest of the palace it had wooden floors with a checkerboard pattern. “He wrote…” He smiled at her, feeling terrified and incredibly excited. “He wrote that I can tell him anything.”  
Irina waited. 

“And I did. Irina, this is it. No more lies, no more pretending, no more keeping quiet, no more suffering in silence.” He whirled around the room once, excitement winning over his anxiety. “And either he accepts me as I am, or…” He shrugged. 

“Or?” she looked at him terrified. “Eli, you had said that you had to be quiet. That you have enemies. That they are trying to trap you, or manipulate His Majesty against you. Is this wise?”

He shrugged again, and danced a little. “Maybe not, but I can’t care about that anymore.” He took Irina’s hand and pulled her to him, then he let her go. Irina understood him instantly, and danced away. “I’m tired of being sad, Irina,” he said as he started dancing the Belle Marquise, the dance that was all the rage at the court of King Francis, and she followed him. “I’d rather live honestly for however long I have, than suffer in silence for years.”

“Really?” She looked at him with worry. “I remember when you’d been scared of dying because of the machinations of your enemies.”

“Quhjan is an autonomous region, my friends are free of any blame, and you won’t be harmed. What is there to be scared of?” He touched her hand lightly, and together they danced first to the left, then hopped and danced to the right, before hopping back to face each other and dance like that. “I wrote him everything, Irina. There’s no going back. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“You always were a little mad, but…”

Someone opened the door, making them freeze. A servant in the duke’s bright red-green livery stared at them, bowed and fled, closing the door loudly behind him. 

“Irina, you told me to do what makes me happy. I don’t know what makes me happy anymore, everything is so confusing still, but I know what makes me miserable. And now he knows too.” He smiled at her. “We must either move forward or fall, isn’t that how it goes? Let’s go, I have been invited to see Prince Krzyzanowslavski’s collection of gems later today, and we still have to get ready for dinner with His Majesty afterwards and then…”

She pouted. “Then you’ll go to your guards and I’ll come here. Alone. Again. Eli, I’ll just dance. I won’t drink or play cards. Please?”

“No,” he told her firmly. “No people who are not legally allowed to marry are allowed to my parties. That’s The Rule.”

“I thought The Rule was no touching.”

“That’s Rule number one. This is Rule number two.”

She grimaced. “You’re just being mean. Fine, let’s go have coffee and see those stupid gems.” She hopped once and strode forward. 

Elik followed her. He was so glad she was with him, giving him the courage to do what he should have done months earlier, if not years. But was it only her, or being away from Ivanhof that had also helped him find his nerve? Perhaps both had been necessary. 

Oh, but how he was glad for his freedom. However long it lasted. 

&*&*

The taste of freedom was more intoxicating than alcohol, Elik decided as his guards indulged him and played ‘Who cares about things’ when he asked them. They probably thought he was glad for another reason, but he didn’t mind. They could think that. 

When he returned to Duke Bjeliovic-Kontoff’s palace, he would write to Mark to look after his guards. They were all so talented. If he went down, they shouldn’t go down with him. Yes, they were blameless, but if they had Mark on their side, he’d feel better. 

But for now, he was happy to whirl and bend his knees and squat and kick in the manner of his people, while his guards, no, his friends, allowed him this happiness. And when he was done, Vasily gave him a drink and asked, “Little Lady?” with a bright grin. 

He could always write to Mark when he was in the carriage, he thought as he drank, and nodded. He threw his glass down since he couldn’t be bothered to put it down at a table, and everyone did the same. “Let’s not break everything this time,” he whispered to Vasily, embarrassed, but not much. 

“We’ll see,” Vasily laughed as he grabbed his left arm, Roman his right. Vasily whistled loudly, and Nikita started playing. “Out?”

“Yes,” he laughed and, with their arms linked, they started dancing out of the inn and into the cold spring night, following Vasily's lead. “How dark the night, how cold the air. Little Lady, Little Miss. Little Lady, Little Miss. Won’t you light my way? Won’t you warm me? Little Lady, Little Miss. Little Lady, Little Miss. I’ll give you something hot. I’ll give you something hard. Little Lady, Little Miss. Little Lady, Little Miss. I’ll give you my pipe. I’ll give you my sword.”

No, he was wrong; this was even better than dancing on his own. He was happier with his friends than alone. 

He’d definitely write to Mark and ask him to protect them. If. If. He didn’t want to think of ifs. That was bad luck. 

“Little Lady, Little Miss. Little Lady, Little Miss. Won’t you give me your sweet kiss?”

They’d managed to dance around the inn once by the end of the song. “Onwards?” Elik asked Vasily, “Or back?” 

“Where do you want to go?”

The logical thing would be to go back inside. But he was a little mad that day. “Onwards.”

Roman laughed. “We’ll dance you to the palace.”

“Sounds good to me,” Vasily agreed. He released Elik, gestured to someone, and within two minutes all his guards were out, musical instruments in hand. “Any requests? No, I know.” He whispered something to Roman.

“Not sure how we can dance it, but we can try,” he nodded, smiling. 

“We’re drunk enough to try anything,” Elik snorted. Even he was a little drunk, since Vasily had allowed him a third drink. And then a fourth. Perhaps he was now a senior student? He chuckled. 

“I think it might be a march,” Vasily continued. 

“Let’s try it,” Roman said and Vasily went to talk to Nikita. 

“I think Council Meetings last less,” Elik grinned.

Roman winked at him, as if to say, ‘Shut up, you like it’.

As Vasily stepped beside him, Nikita and the others started playing ‘Under one sun.’

“That’s not a march,” Elik laughed. “I’ll show you how you dance it.” He stepped forward and showed them the steps, and Vasily joined him first. 

Yes, dancing with his friends, as they clapped and sang their song was the best. Freedom and happiness and love all mingled together in his heart. “Under one banner,” he sang loudly, suddenly realising they had let him sing that alone.

“We stand together,” his men replied. 

For a moment he froze, overwhelmed by the perfect happiness he felt. Then the music swelled again and off they danced.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys are still having fun

Thomas checked his watch. It was eleven. He ought to be getting ready for lunch, but he felt that he should have sent this letter days earlier. The Count was about to leave and he was still dithering. If His Master was anyone else, he wouldn’t care, but Duke Alexandre was a Brother! He couldn’t let down a Brother. 

“Enough, Jean,” he said and waved his servant away as the man took the wash basin away from him. 

“But you have not dressed yet.” 

“I will do that before leaving,” he grinned. “I need to write a letter, and then I will do everything else.”

“As you wish, Sir.” Jean bowed and left him alone. 

He glanced at himself at the mirror. He didn’t look bad without make-up, but he felt strange; as if he were naked. How did these Bosilik do it, go out naked into the world? He was dithering again. He picked up his quill, and started writing. 

_Krzydzov, 9th of Spring_

_My Lord,_

_According to your instruction, my informers and I have been following Count Berezin during his stay at the Capital of Ustvela, and I was able to get invitations for the different dances at the King’s palace. Thus, I have managed to get some information about his likes and dislikes and see him in person._

_First of all, even though he had reserved an inn for himself and his entourage, he happily accepted the invitation to stay at the palace of Duke Bjeliovic-Kontoff. I dare think he will be just as happy to accept Your Highness’ invitation to stay at your Palace._

_His entourage consists of a few officials, like his secretary, Count Rasoulin, and his hundred guards. Most of the guards stays at the inn, though, and every night, before retiring to the Bjeliovic-Kontoff Palace, the Count joins them for a few drinks (more on that later). He only drinks alcohol with them, and only has two drinks, and no more than that. At every other dinner or ball, he only drinks water._

_During the day, the Count roams the city together with his sister, a few guards and his dog by his side. By now, everyone in the capital knows who he is, and greets him by his assumed name. Even if the Count himself were not distinctive, his dog is. No one has ever seen such a dog, stocky, thick-furred, pure white with sparking black eyes and a permanently happy expression._

_The dog and its Master have the habit of walking briskly around, without stopping until Her Excellency, his sister, protests she’s tired. Then they stop for coffee or tea. They never go to the same coffee or teahouse twice, and, so far it seems that the Count and his sister seem more interested in engaging the people in discussion rather than enjoying their beverages in private. The Count’s sister has developed a liking for coffee, but the Count prefers tea._

_After coffee or tea, the Count and his companions visit Palaces with art collections. He has already seen the Royal collection, the collection of Duke Bjeliovic-Kontoff, and that of Prince Krzyzanowslavski. Then they have more tea or coffee, rest for a couple of hours, and then attend whatever entertainment has not been prepared in his honour. King Francis is most insistent on that. None of the balls or concerts that he’s arranged have been in the Count’s honour._

_Next to tea and art (he is most interested in painting), music seems to be one of the Count’s favourite things. He enjoys listening to court music, but, as they told me, he was just as happy listening to traditional Ustvelan music on his journey here. And, in the evening with his guards, he listens to traditional Bosilik or Quhjani music. Every night, his guards can be heard singing and dancing noisily for hours, but no one has complained for one simple reason. All the neighbourhood where the inn is located, is invited to the party. The beer and the wine flow freely all night, and there is food for a thousand, not the hundred or so that travel with the Count, and with good reason; everyone who wants, can come to their party, even though only the houses next to the inn are invited formally._

_And who could blame them for wanting to join this boisterous group of dancing and singing companions? People would join them even if they had to pay for food and drink. Almost all of the guards are between twenty and twenty-five years of age, in the flowering of manly youth. Only their officers are slightly older, and their Choir Master is in his forties. They are all are extraordinarily beautiful men, with clear complexions, white teeth, and are the perfect picture of health. Most of them have handsome, manly features, but some are more delicate-looking. They all have light coloured hair, light brown or blond, and are tall and athletic. Their songs can bring tears to men’s eyes, and make maidens swoon, and when they dance in their tight-fitting clothes, in their traditional wild and energetic dances, they are like magnificent, barely tamed animals, jumping here and there. Even the Court Ladies swooned when they saw them._

_The guards are handsome, irresistible, and easy. Every night, after the Count retires to the Palace, the inn becomes steamier and more exciting than a brothel. They are breaking every decency law there is, and whoever is lucky to spend the night with them, has a look about them in the morning that everyone knows where they were. I can personally attest to their youthful vigour and enthusiasm – but also their endearing concern for their partner’s willingness. Everything that happens in that inn at night is completely consensual. There is none of the roughness of other soldiers, none of the masculine need to possess. Don’t mistake me – they can be rough when they get excited, but they woo, they flirt, they make advances and are just as happy to be wooed and won over. They don’t take, and they are discreet._

_I was to one of these parties two nights ago, and last night, the most enthusiastic and sweet young guard that had shared his bed with me at the inn, was one of the guards accompanying the Count at dinner at King Francis’ palace. He did not even acknowledge my presence, but when I left for home, I found a note inviting me to the inn again in one of my coat pockets. I don’t even know how he managed to pass me the message. Perhaps they really are spies, pretending to be hedonistic members of an army choir and dance ensemble._

_The Count himself is just as handsome as his guards. He is tall and slender and stands out easily in a crowd. He’s set the tone for his companions by refusing to wear a wig or make-up. His hair, just slightly wavy, the exact shade of red as that of the Beautiful Marquise, the Official Mistress of King Francis Louis IV, in her portrait by Tapelier, falls freely to his shoulders, and his complexion is amazingly clear and white. His eyes are grey, his teeth straight and white, and his lips pale pink. His features are delicate, and he’s as pretty as a picture when he sits still._

_The Count never sings and only dances court dances at the official dinners, but in the evenings, with his guards, he is different. The first time I was there, together with a few members of the choir he sang a soft, slow song about a person waiting for their lover. He has a beautiful tenor voice, clear, strong and flexible, moving effortlessly between notes, that reminded me of a superbly-made and finely-tuned instrument. Their song brought tears to the eyes of the most sensitive of the women at the inn, and made many a man wish they had such a patient sweetheart waiting for them._

_Last night, though, he danced at the tune of a fast song, that sounded quite amusing even to someone like me who didn’t know what the lyrics meant. He was just as wild and magnificent as his guards, and just as agile and fast. And when the dance ended, they all laughed as if everything was fine again and they were all free of some great weight.  
One has to wonder. Has the Count… or as my friend from Thur-and-Foir calls him, The Swan, fallen out of favour? He really is as graceful as a swan, a tall, pale beauty gliding through a room. Even if one fell out of love with him, one would keep him as one keeps splendid works of art. I do not think the Emperor would abandon such a beauty.   
In faithful service and in brotherly love, _

_Thomas_

He checked the time. How did time fly? He sealed and stamped the letter hurriedly. “Jean,” he called out.

Jean came in moments later, making him wonder once more, if the man was watching him from the keyhole. It was a good thing he trusted Jean. “Give this to my secretary. It is for His Grace, My Lord Alexandre.”

Jean nodded and approached him with everything that would help him look the distinguished gentleman that he was. He put a light layer of white cream on his face, and highlighted his cheeks and lips with rouge. Finally, he selected a small, round velvet patch and, after examining his reflection, placed it under his eye. Yes, he already felt dressed. 

Jean showed him the wigs. “The brown one today, Jean.” It would match the dark green suit he’d selected to wear. The moment Jean had given it to him, he put it as fast as he could, placed the silk mask over his face and motioned Jean to powder his hair a light grey. Time was running out. At least he had his breeches and his shirt on, so it was just a matter of wearing his waistcoat, his coat, and his cravat. He let Jean dress him to perfection, slipped his shoes on, and, with another glance at the mirror, put on his overcoat. 

He did not want to keep his sweet guard waiting. “Don’t forget the letter, Jean,” he shouted as he ran out of his palace. 

His sweet giant of a guard was waiting for him at the entrance La Grace Café, gorgeous in his dark blue uniform and coat that hugged his body perfectly. “Was I late?”

Shockingly, his sweet guard took out his handkerchief and wiped his face. Then he leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes,” he smiled at him gently as he took his hand and guided him inside. He’d never felt more strange walking into this elegant café with the mirrored walls and the heavy chandeliers than at that moment, when, instead of a beautiful lady at his side, he was being led by a man as if he were the woman. 

And even more strangely, people did not look at him slyly and murmuring behind their fans, because it was still not common to see Brothers openly out even at Ustvela, where it was not a crime to be one, as it had recently become back at Valentin. No, the moment they looked at him, they looked at him with admiration, envy even. It took him a couple of minutes to realise that they also looked at his sweet guard with open appreciation. 

Who could blame them? His sweet guard was towering over everyone at six feet two, and he had a childishly handsome face with bright blue eyes and light brown hair. As for the athletic body that his clothes did not really hide? Not even ancient sculptures could compare. 

Thomas saw him wink at someone at the back and nod toward him, and he glanced up. ‘His Excellency’ was sitting there, together with his sister, and two of his guards. 

“You want to meet him?” his sweet guard asked him. 

“I met him at dinner two nights ago,” he replied, feeling like a traitor. There was the best opportunity he’d ever have to talk to ‘His Excellency’, but he’d rather spend the time with his sweet guard. 

“We’ll just say ‘hello’, then,” he told him and guided him to the back. “Hello,” he said, and pushed Thomas forward. “This is Thomas, something or other Count d’Heunnigcoeur.”

“Nice to see you again, Your Excellency,” ‘His Excellency’ said softly, as if he wasn’t used to raising his voice. He didn’t stand up either, as he should have done when meeting another noble of equal rank but higher position, since, as official Ambassador of Valentin, Thomas outranked a count with no governmental position, and who travelled with the choir he’d sponsored. “Will you join us?” He gave them a tiny smile, but there was a wicked glint in his eyes. “Or would I be keeping you?”

Thomas found himself nodding. 

“Then I shouldn’t. Your Excellency,” he lowered his head instead of bowing, breaking the rules of proper behaviour again. 

‘His Excellency’ had no idea how to act like a count, Thomas thought for a second, but he too, like everyone else, dared not correct him. Like dealing with a capricious child playing make-belief, they played along. 

“Evgeni, I will see you later.”

“Yes, till later,” his sweet guard addressed ‘The Count’ shamelessly informally and led him to their table, further back, in one of the secluded booths that nobles used whenever they wanted privacy or to have a tryst. 

The moment they sat down, he took out his white face cream. His guard caught his wrist. “No, you don’t need this.” 

He smirked. “Easy for you to say. Or His Excellency. I never saw him wear make-up these few days.”

His guard smiled. “Make-up is for those who have something to hide.”

“I have nothing to hide,” he lied. Of course, he did. Even if he weren’t an Ambassador, didn’t everyone have something to hide? “But with make-up, I think I look better. Life is easier when one follows fashion.”

“We are unfashionable, then,” his sweet guard laughed, and the two cute dimples on his cheeks appeared again. Thomas wanted to kiss them so badly suddenly. 

“Maybe a little,” he grinned. “Being unfashionable can have its appeal,” he said in a low voice, caressing his guard’s fingers where they still touched his wrist. 

“I’m glad you see it.”

Thomas smiled, and felt his sweet guard slide his stockinged foot up his calf. He shivered. “What are you doing?”

“Exactly what you think I’m doing,” his guard smiled even more sweetly. “You are a handsome man, Thomas, something or other Count d’Heunnigcoeur.”

“Sixth,” he said without thinking. 

“We are leaving tomorrow morning. This,” he gestured to indicate their surroundings, “is beautiful, but these are not the marvellous things I want to see.” His toes reached even higher. “I want,” he murmured, and Thomas felt the slightest of caresses against his cock, “other,” another little caress, “things,” he finished, dragging his foot along Thomas’ cock. 

Thomas swallowed hard. He wasn’t used to Brothers being so forward, and two days of his sweet guard were not enough to make him change the habits of a lifetime. 

“Well?” his guard said seductively. “Do you really want to have lunch?” he asked, running both feet along his cock. 

“No,” he gasped.

“Good.” The feet left him. A few moments later, his sweet guard was standing up. Thomas gave him his hand and let himself be led out. 

“Till later,” he saluted ‘His Excellency’, who nodded at them with a smile. 

“You are on good terms with His Excellency,” he remarked.

His sweet guard nodded. 

“What’s he like?”

“We could go back and you can talk to him,” his sweet guard said somewhat testily. “If you want,” he added, all traces of irritation gone from his voice.

He shook his head. He was betraying His Lord, but who could blame him? His sweet guard was looking at him with open affection, and he held his hand in his warm palm. He wasn’t wearing any gloves, he’d suddenly realised. How unfashionable. How wonderful, he thought, as his sweet guard played with his fingers. 

“Is everyone at the Empire so open with their sweethearts?”

“Of course not,” he replied, looking at him as if he were a stupid child. “But lately things have been changing. His Imperial Majesty, Nikolaj the First, is openly affectionate with his Consort, and people have started imitating him.”

He’d just been handed the perfect opening. “And how is the Consort?” he asked with seeming honesty. 

“He’s fine, I guess.” His sweet guard shrugged. “How would I know?” 

“I thought…”

“That all the Guards must know their Majesties?” he laughed. “Our positions are not as lofty as yours. You must know His Majesty, the king of Valentin, right? And his brother?”

He nodded. 

“So, if I asked you, what are they like, what would you tell me?”

He kept his expression blank. Was his sweet guard trying to get information out of him? “Nothing that is not common knowledge. His Majesty is hard-working and magnanimous.” Except to the Brothers, he thought and felt a sour taste in his mouth. “And his brother, Duke Alexandre, likes collecting paintings.” Especially those of an erotic nature, he thought but didn’t say. “My house is here,” he whispered. “Do you want to come up for coffee?”

“Only if we have coffee later.” His sweet guard’s light blue eyes seemed darker. “I really want something else now.”

Thomas shivered. He grasped his sweet guard’s hand and opened the front door, daring and uncaring for the first time in all his life. With this sweet giant by his side, he felt stronger suddenly, drunk on something headier than wine. He ignored the servants as he guided his sweet guard inside, trembling with desire. 

“I never asked you,” he said as they walked, trying to keep some semblance of decency in front of his servants, “how come you speak Valentinois so well? You have almost no accent.”

His sweet guard laughed. “We are a choir, Thomas. We sing Bosilik songs for fun, but our repertoire is broad. For example, this is one of my favourite pieces. Capricious Lady,” he started singing in perfect Nisari, “your gaze cuts more than a diamond sword, my armour is weak against your hits. I should run from you, yet I yield to your cruelty.” 

His voice was clear and warm, and reverberated in the staircase. Thomas was certain that, if he wanted to leave the choir, his sweet guard could become one of the darlings of the Valentinois or the Aedley music scene, taking easily the role of the lyrical, young hero. 

His sweet guard stared at Thomas. “So, take pity on your prisoner, My Lady.” He smiled. “But I also like this. Come, come, sweet hearts, leave bitter War behind, and celebrate the joys of love,” he sang in Valentinois. 

Thomas reached up, grabbed his neck and kissed him hungrily. His sweet giant of a guard. How he longed to yield to him. How he would surrender to him, as soon as they reached his room. 

&*&*

“Come back to bed,” his sweet guard begged him.

Thomas smiled at him. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, but now I am awake.” He lifted the covers and showed Thomas his body. “I’m all awake,” he smiled, caressing his half-hard cock. 

“Just a moment.” Thomas glanced at his letter. 

_Krzydzov, 9th of Spring_

_My Lord,_

_My sweet guard, who shared his bed with me last night, invited me for lunch today and so, some of the information in the letter I sent you before going to meet him, needs to be updated._

_The song that the Count danced last night is called ‘Who cares about things’, and it’s a traditional Quhjani song about a husband who comes back after the war. His wife says there’s no firewood nor alcohol to warm him up, but he says he only wants his wife, and doesn’t care about things._

_My sweet guard refused to even speculate if the song had a special meaning, but I did see the Count this morning at a coffee shop, and he was in high spirits. Seeing him today made me realise that something had been bothering him when he first arrived here, but whatever that was, is now no longer a problem._

_Could the songs hold the keys to his moods? He wouldn’t be the first lover to communicate his feelings through poetry or music. So, My Lord, I have a theory. The Swan had fallen out of favour while he was at Jedlowa, but now he has been restored, and that makes him happy. It is just a thought._

_In faithful service and in brotherly love,_

_Thomas_

Yes, he was happy with it. He folded it, put it in his drawer, locked it, and turned back to his sweet guard. “Weren’t you supposed to meet His Excellency this afternoon?”

His sweet guard panicked. He sat up, and reached for his clothes. “Shit. What time is it?”

“Four-thirty.”

He let out a deep sigh of relief and fell back on the bed. “Practice is in an hour.” He gave him a seductive smile. “We have plenty of time for a quick one,” he laughed at his joke. “Come, Thomas, sixth count of whatever.”

“D’Heunnigcoeur,” he corrected him without thinking. 

“Well, Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur, come back to bed. If you do,” he grabbed his coat and took out a slip of paper from one of his pockets. “I will have something for you.”

“But you are leaving tomorrow morning.”

“So what? We can still have a party tonight. And, we can have our own party now, if you come back to bed.”

Who could blame him if he was so easily persuaded?


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should be titled 'Nikolaj is clever, but won't think until he's nudged' - lol
> 
> Also? I can't be bothered to make up month names... folk songs, on the other hand... :)

Nikolaj looked at his darling’s letter again. It was from the 4th of Spring, from when his darling had arrived at Krzydzov. A short letter, saying they were well, that he had liked traditional Ustvelan music, but was looking forward to seeing and hearing what they did at court. How could he reply to this letter after everything that had happened in the last two weeks? 

_Ivanhof, 13th of Spring,_

_My darling, how are you?_

_It is so strange, trying to reply to your letter from the 4th when it is already the 13th and you must have received my letter from the 1st, but I have not received your reply yet._

_So much depends on your reply to my letter from the 1st. So much._

If he wrote as if Elik had told him about the ‘sleeping dogs’ and Elik hadn’t, he’d reveal that he’d broken his darling’s box. If he wrote as if Elik hadn’t, but Elik had, he’d appear callous. 

The knock on his door made him put his quill down. “Come in,” he said, feeling relief. Anything would be better than trying to write to his darling. He’d happily accept a declaration of war at that moment, he was so confused about what he should write. 

Dima, Mark, Vassily, and Adam stepped inside, looking a little awkward. 

He grinned. “Why couldn’t you just call a Council Meeting, Gentlemen? Please, have a seat.” The only ones missing were Pavel and Andrej. He gestured for everyone but his ministers to leave them. “What can I do for you?”

Mark cleared his throat. Then he glanced at Dima and Vassily. 

“This is a Council Meeting?” he asked, confused when Adam opened his folder where he kept his notes.

“Not quite,” Adam said. “More of a preliminary meeting? Before we call for a Council one?”

“I’m listening,” he said as he sat back. 

They shared another look, as if no one wanted to start. 

That was strange. He was unused to seeing them so awkward. He pointed his finger to Adam. “You. Tell me what is the reason for this meeting.”

Adam gulped loudly. “Maybe Di…” he began. 

“You. Start. Now.”

With a deep breath, Adam nodded. “We have been thinking.”

He stayed very still. They had been thinking, hadn’t they? Thinking was not forbidden to them, so why did they look like they had been thinking something they shouldn’t have? 

“His Majesty’s real bill. Not that first draft.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Keep talking,” he growled. Were they trying to implicate his darling in something? 

“It was a good bill,” Adam continued. “It made one think.”

He glared at them. “And, hadn’t We decided that that bill was dangerous?”

They shared another look. Adam kicked Dima, and Mark nudged him. Vassily, who couldn’t physically ‘encourage’ Dima to break his silence, simply hissed, “Speak up, man.”  
Hm. So, Dima had been thinking and then shared his thoughts? He pointed his finger at Dima. “You. Talk.”

Dima bit his lips. “Your Majesty,” he finally managed. “You had decided that the bill was dangerous, but it was very difficult not to keep thinking about it after reading it.”

And that was exactly why there were no copies of it left except for the one in Ilya’s hands. Or, so he had thought…. 

“But, as I was thinking about it, I realised something else.”

Nikolaj started tapping his fingers on the desk. “Either you tell me what it is, or I will have it whipped out of you.”

With a glance at Mark, Dima opened his folder, took out a sheet and placed it on his desk. There were just numbers, some in the hundreds, some in the millions. 

“What am I looking at?”

“The population of the Empire, divided in groups. The first 529 represent the total number of high noble households in the Empire, after the reforms that allowed nobility from the New Territories to be included in the Book of Purple. The second is landed gentry. The third merchants and other city professionals. The fourth other categories, like military officers, or members of the Shrines, and so on. The fifth, land-owners or professionals or others from the New Territories.”

“And the last two?” They were the largest groups, the first of the two numbering some two million and the other five million people. 

“The first two million or so are the enslaved people of the New Territories. The other five are the slaves that have belonged to Bosilke for at least two generations.”

He shrugged. “Yes, so what?”

“Right now, Your Majesty, in our vast and beautiful Empire, less than a million pay taxes, and of them, it is the professionals and land-owners of the New Territories first, and then the Bosilik professionals who pay the highest taxes.”

“Yes?” He looked at the numbers again. “You want to abolish slavery so you can get more taxes?”

Dima glanced back at Mark and Vassily. “Not just taxes,” Vassily said. “Recruits too.”

Dima nodded. “Yes. Instead of a million men, we could get taxes from seven million men.”

Mark suddenly snorted. 

“What?” he asked, curious despite his annoyance at the stupidity he was hearing. 

“If we followed the Quhjani system, then we could get even more taxes, since land-owning women with no male relatives are also members of the tax registry.” He grinned. “My wife has been reading up on Quhjani history,” he said, rolling his eyes back for a moment, in a gesture of fond disbelief.

“In that case, I only have one advice for you. Either have no bread in the house again, or hide the salt. She wants to divorce you and trying to find the way.” Why else would any person be reading up on that? Quhjani history was nothing but a story of people trying to stay free, either from their neighbours or their husbands. 

Dima grinned, while Mark snorted again. Adam started writing.

“Adam, really, you don’t have to put every comment in the minutes.” He looked at them. “Gentlemen, we cannot abolish slavery. Slaves have been there forever, and since forever, slaves have been looked after their masters. They are fed, clothed, and housed at their masters’ expense. If they were to be free, We’d have seven millions in need of employment and unable to support themselves. No.”

Mark stared at him, then he shrugged as if to say ‘it had been a worth a try.’ 

He put his hand on the paper with the numbers. “I will keep this. Do you have any other such papers for me to study?”

Dima took out several sheets from his folder and put them down.

“Thank you.” He grinned. “I was running out of bedtime material. My Consort’s library is full of romances,” he snorted. “Nothing but stories of all-consuming love, trapped maidens saved by knight-errants, noble princes who marry peasant girls, and so on. Seriously,” he shook his head. No wonder his darling had all those ideas about how people should behave after they married, if that was all he had been reading. So far, he had not come across one single story where the knight-errant or the noble prince returned home to his multitude of wives, concubines, or bed-mates. No, they all lived with their chosen ones only. 

“In all fairness,” Mark said with a smile, “The Ladies had chosen his books.”

He groaned. “I don’t know if that makes things better,” he told them. Did Bosilik noblewomen secretly want monogamy? But they were just as happy as Bosilik men in wanting multiple partners. He didn’t understand it. “Dismissed, Gentlemen. And no more talking of such things.”

His Ministers stood up and bowed at him before leaving. 

“Goodness,” he sighed when he was alone. He had been right; that bill was dangerous. Now he had five abolitionists in his court, not just one. Which reminded him of his favourite abolitionist again. 

When would his darling do the next outrageous thing? His letters were the world’s shortest and most boring reports, as if he was writing not to the Husband he missed, but some aunt to whom he was forced to write. 

Maybe he should write another letter where he told his darling what he wanted to do to him when he finally got him back in his bed. And, when he wrote that, he should remember not to tease him. Much. 

Grinning, he picked up another sheet. 

_Ivanhof, 13th of Spring,_

_My darling, how are you?_

_Today, the most amusing thing happened. Most of my Ministers came to talk to me of that unmentionable thing that is related to the unfortunate event of the 5th of the Ice Month. Can you believe it?_

_They said that if We did as You had proposed in that unmentionable thing, then we could expand our tax registry and take taxes out of a few million people. Which would mean that…_

_Actually, darling, that is not such a bad idea. If more people paid taxes, then We could lower the taxes for everyone and still get more money into the Treasury. We could possibly even have the same level of taxation across the Empire, like you had suggested at some point. Of course, one would need to make everyone free in order for that to work, since only free people pay taxes, and…_

_I just had another thought. Right now, the needs of slaves are taken care of by their masters, and so the slaves remain to their masters’ lands and farms (since that is where most of the slaves are, outside the cities, and working the land). What if We freed them, but kept them tied to the land? So, a slave would not belong to a free man anymore, but rather to the land where he works? We could then tax them, but let the weight of their upkeep fall on their own…. Former masters and current landowners. And their former masters and current landowners must pay them some sort of salary, or allow them part of the produce or profits, for, how will they pay their taxes if they make no money?_

_Darling, I think I need to read that unmentionable thing again. Lowering taxes is good, freeing people so that they pay taxes and get recruited in the army is not that good. Even though We are Lord and Master of Everything and Everyone in the Bosilke Empire, We still like to have the people’s approval. I am certain you will have written something wonderfully emotional and kind to make the people approve of this change._

_We still have another problem. If there are no slaves, how can We be Lord and Master of Everything and Everyone? Especially of the nobles?_

_I so wish you were here, darling. We could go over the unmentionable thing together, and discuss everything. Writing to you feels like talking to you, but I will have to wait for two weeks before I receive your reply. This is such a slow conversation._

_My One and Only Love, I miss your mind as much as I miss your body._

_When you receive this, My Darling, write me all your thoughts about this matter. I must leave you now and talk to my Ministers again. I want to know, how much can we lower taxes if everyone were eligible to pay them?_

_Your devoted and lonely Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. no news from the Chiefs of Police yet, but I am beginning to tire of waiting for the results of the inquest_

_p.p.s. I can’t wait to read your impressions of Ustvela. My father had visited it in his youth, before he became emperor, and he had liked sailing so much that, even though we have no access to the sea, he commissioned the Northern Star of Happiness and sailed it across Lake Djerem. Strange; I would use it every summer, but since Our marriage, I have not used it once. When you are back, we will go sailing. I think you will like it_


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The siblings are being romantic before romanticism was a thing! lol

_Yastba, 13th of Spring,_

_My Heart, My, Light, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you? I hope you are well. I really do._

_After a few wonderful days at Krzydzov, the capital of Ustvela, His Highness, Prince Anton, escorted us to the harbour town of Yastba. We arrived yesterday after a trip of two days and, really, Ustvela reminds me so much of Quhjan… It is a country of meadows and plains and gentle hills. It is beautiful._

_The city of Yastba itself is charming, a small version of Krzydzov, with similarly picturesque palaces and houses painted blue, yellow or pink. My guards have taken lodgings at two of the town’s inns , while we are staying at the mayor’s house, and this has proven a source of delight for Irina. The house is right next to a coffeeshop, and this morning, we were woken up by the smell of freshly ground and brewed coffee. Irina was so happy that she could escape breakfast with the mayor and his family and have her coffee in peace. You see, the mayor has a large family, with six children whose ages range from two to twelve, and they are such noisy little things. They almost smothered Oleg when they petted him, but Oleg was patient with them. Unlike Irina._

_But, My Love, the city’s beauty is nothing compared to the majesty of the sea. After breakfast, we went and stood on the long, sandy beach for hours, taking in the air and watching THE SEA!_

_I have no words to describe it. Lukasz Matuschek, the painter I hired to give Irina lessons, has made drawings. Irina too. Actually, Matuschek has been making drawings of a lot of the marvellous things that we see here, because I know my words are not good enough for describing them. You will see them all when we (? He and the Guards?) are back._

_My Husband, do not be disappointed with me, but I had this thought that is unlike my usual thoughts, and I know you will find it strange. I thought (please, don’t be disappointed), how wonderful it would be if Our Country had access to the sea. It would be so much easier to import and export goods. If we had a port north, we could take a ship and travel across the sea to Valentin instead of crossing all the countries that we have to cross by land. And if we had access to the sea of Vilnia, then we could sail straight to Anopoli, and from there to the South._

_And (this is my truly shameful and selfish thought), how I would love it if I could see the sea every morning from my window. During the time we were here, the sea changed colours and, in the morning, it was angry, with high waves that send cold foam to our faces, but by noon it had calmed down, and it was as still as a mirror. The sea was dark in colour, but they told me that in the South, the sea is blue, or even blue-green. I can’t imagine it. They also told me one of their sayings: beautiful women are like the sea, calm one moment, angry the next, but always seductive and worth dying for. I can believe that._

_The air was so crisp and had a peculiar scent. It was nothing like the air back home, that smells of grass and earth, or the air back at Ivanhof – especially in late spring and summer, when the flowers bloom in the garden and the air is scented with their fragrance. But it was a scent one could get used to. It was fresh – yes, that’s the best way to describe it._

_I wanted to get into the water as Dima did, and feel it, but I had no extra clothes with me and, in any case, it would have been very undignified if I took off my clothes so I could walk into the sea, so I just stayed at the beach. I envied Dima for a moment, but then, they brought me some sea water, so I could least touch it and taste the salt._

_My Husband, there is nothing like THE SEA!_

_But, because You are My Wise and Powerful Husband, please ignore my selfish and disappointing thoughts. If Luck has it in store for Us, then We will have access to the sea._

_How I wish you were here with me, so we could see it together._

_I’m sending you some seashells I gathered from the beach. They are such small and delicate things. The fishermen here take out the snail-like creatures that live in them and use them as bait._

_We also had lunch at the beach, where we were served fresh fish. It didn’t taste anything like the river or lake fish we have fresh. It had a different flavour. Perhaps deeper is a good way to describe it? River and lake fish seemed bland compared to it. But, if you asked me if I prefer this to the salted fish we get at home, I couldn’t tell. Our Cooks are so skilled at preparing so many delicious meals with it._

_I wish you were here so much!_

_Your ever-loving and faithful Husband,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. why is the postal service so slow? Here I am, dreaming of our own house by the sea, when, for all I know, you have already decided how to solve the problem that I am… isn’t being human strange? Like at the battlefield; you know you could get killed, yet you only think of victory_

“Are you ready to leave, Your Excellency?” Prince Anton smiled at him. 

Elik folded his letter to His Husband, sealed it and stamped it, and stood up. Dima immediately picked up his writing table and his things, and Elik gave him the letter and the silk pouch with the seashells too. “Not really, but I suppose we have to.” He glanced at the sea. “Thank you for indulging me. If I were to write this later, I might have forgotten something. The sea,” he sighed. “It is so beautiful.”

“The closest sea to you is the Oerestand one, isn’t it?”

“And the one at Vilnia.”

“So, which one will you be trying to get?”

Elik shook his head. “I have no idea what you are asking me.”

“Don’t you?”

“My Wise and Mighty Lord is the one who makes these decisions. I am just the ornament on his arm.”

Prince Anton raised an eyebrow. 

Elik continued smiling. “I heard you will be getting married later in the summer? Let me congratulate you on your wedding.”

“Thank you.” Prince Anton looked at him pleadingly. “Your Excellency, can I join your evening entertainment tonight? I will be getting married in a few months, and everyone says that your parties are the best place for young men whose blood is boiling.”

“You are only fifteen, Your Highness. According to our laws, you are still underage.”

Prince Anton made a face. “And Your Excellency is in Our Country. You should show Us some respect.”

“That is precisely why I do not…” At Prince Anton’s expression, mixing indignation and pleading, he finally relented. The Prince had been asking to be invited for the last four days, and this was their last night as his guests before he returned to Krzydzov, and they left for Eisenfort. “Vasily,” he called out loud. The man hurried to his side. “You will have another student in the art of drinking tonight,” he said, nodding towards the prince. “Take very good care of him.” The last thing he wanted was anything to happen to this particular young man, the son of his most gracious host. 

Vasily grinned. “So, you managed to get an invitation?” he asked the prince quite informally. 

Prince Anton grinned widely. “You also have women coming to your parties?”

Vasily glanced at him, and he nodded. Vasily continued. “Yes, but, Your Highness, there is one rule that is enforced with the utmost severity. It doesn’t matter if you are the prince and heir of this country, or a beggar, breaking this rule will bring upon you the wrath of all the Guards. You must vow that you will abide to it, and you will not break it, or we will break a limb for each time you have broken it.”

Prince Anton paled. “Seriously?”

“Ask what happened to Baron Varyjanof if you don’t believe me.”

“I know what happened to Baron Varyjanof. He was found with a broken arm and beaten black and blue. He’d said he’d been attacked by robbers.”

“He broke The Rule,” Vasily said in a low, ominous voice. 

“What is it? I promise, I will abide to it, and I will not break it, or you may break my limbs,” the prince said bravely. 

“You must never force yourself upon another, or touch another without consent. You may flirt, and woo, and make advances to whomever you want. You may use lousy pick-up lines or bad jokes. You can make a fool of yourself or recite the finest poetry. You can use song and dance to attract attention to yourself. But touch someone who has not agreed to your advances, and we will beat you. Force yourself on anyone, and we will break a limb.” 

Prince Anton’s eyes widened, and his expression turned into one of horror. “What if I get too drunk to control myself?”

Vasily smiled kindly. “That’s my role as your teacher at drinking. I will make sure that you do not get that drunk. And if I see that you are past your limits, then I will take you straight to your bed, the way I do with all my students who try to drink more than they can.”

Elik nodded. He too was still Vasily’s student at drinking, and Vasily had always taken good care of him, and never let him drink too much. That first time at Jedlowa was the only exception, and that had not been Vasily’s fault, but his. 

Vasily started walking away. “Stick to The Rule and you will be fine,” he reassured Prince Anton, who walked by his side, fascinated and scared and excited at the same time.

Elik reached down and picked up a fistful of sand. It was wet and sticky and it would have been stupid to keep it. He stared at the sea as he let the sand fall down from his fingers. “Oleg,” he said as softly as he could, petting his dog with his other hand, “I really wrote My Husband to start a war and conquest a land, so I could have a window with a view to the sea. What is wrong with me? I don#t like wars, and I don’t even know if he will be My Husband by the time he gets this letter,” he laughed and hurried towards his guards and Prince Anton’s escorts, Oleg running next to him. 

*&*&

_Yastba, 14th of Spring,_

_Your Majesty,_

_I am sending you some of my latest drawings. I am also sending you a couple of drawings by Lukasz Matuschek. Eli saw his paintings and he hired him as my teacher. I agree with Eli’s assessment that he is good and I am happy to learn from him, but, Your Majesty, don’t you think that I have my own style? I want to become better, not copy what he does._

_What do you think?_

_There is yet another advantage of having an adult male painter following us. I persuaded Lukasz to make drawings of Eli’s parties. I am not allowed to go, since he says I am too young, no matter how many times I told him that I am not a child. But Lucasz can go, and so I can also see what is happening at them._

_Eli can be so annoying! Last night I could hear them all night singing and playing music. They sounded like they were having fun… and what would be the harm if I went there and danced? I wouldn’t do anything else, and I know what married people do, so I wouldn’t be shocked. Yet Eli remains unreasonably, stubbornly annoying._

_Your humble and faithful servant,_

_Irina_

Irina looked at her weekly letter to His Majesty again. Should she write that she knew that Eli had written to him? What had he written that had made him so excited and reckless? He had the same fire in his eyes as when he’d decided that he would be their country’s sacrifice to the power-hungry Emperor who had defeated them. Then he had taken this decision for everyone at Quhjan, and now he’d taken it for himself. 

She smiled. This time, she would not write to His Majesty that she knew. She would not beg him to let Eli return back home with her. This time, she would respect her brother’s wishes, the way she hadn’t done back then. Since Eli himself had used the warriors’ ancient vow, to either move forward or fall in battle, how could she do anything but accept his decision now that she was a child no more, crying for her brother to stay with her? She was a Quhjani woman, and her brother was a fighter. If he fell, he fell. 

But she would much rather prefer it if he moved forward. 

Sighing, she looked at her drawings. She had to send some to His Majesty, as if she wasn’t aware of anything. Looking at them again, she decided on which one would be first: her drawing of Elik at the beach. 

There was nothing but the sea, the sand, the sky, and her brother. When they had arrived, the sea was dark, seething, the sky was grey, even the sand was dark. Eli had approached the sea alone, and Irina had forbidden others to join him for a few minutes. There was something so lonely about her brother standing there, wrapped in his dark, fur coat, as he looked at the sea, that Irina had to draw it before it was gone. Something so lonely, but beautiful too, as if that endless mass of water that couldn’t stop moving called out to Eli, and he responded, cautious but ready for action. She had only seen Eli like that once before, when he’d stepped up to that dais to get crowned. 

It really was a shame His Majesty wasn’t there. Back then, and last morning, Eli had looked so lonely. Back at Jedlowa, though, after His Majesty had walked up next to her brother, Eli had seemed at peace. And when he talked to His Majesty on that dais, even though she couldn’t hear him, she could see his happiness. 

His Majesty made her brother happy, so she decided that the next drawings would be happy. She wouldn’t send him the one where Eli was gathering sea shells, looking glum. 

The second was after she had allowed everyone to go to the beach. Dima had run straight into the water and shrieked that it was freezing as he ran back. Ramon and Stepan had grabbed Vanya and were threatening to throw him in the water because he had spent the last hour calling them ‘love birds’. As if they weren’t. Prince Anton was talking to Vasily (no doubt begging for an invitation to Eli’s parties - again). Her brother was talking to some fishermen, with the help of Baron Taranof, the official translator of the Bosilke Embassy to Ustvela. 

Then she looked at Lukasz’ drawings, and finally decided on two of them. The first showed a corner of the ground floor of the inn where the guards had been staying at Krzydzov. There was a table at the front and Vanya was holding a local girl by the waist as they danced on the table, glasses falling down as they jumped. Avros and Osip were playing cards with a local man under the table. Further back, Piotr was flirting with another local girl, while a young man looked on as if he couldn’t decide to whom he wanted to talk more. Roman could be seen dancing at the side, one hand raised and holding a beer glass, the other lowered and holding someone else’s hand. Irina knew it was Stepan’s, even though Lukasz hadn’t drawn him. They really were inseparable. 

The second showed the exterior of the inn. Light fell from the lamps that illuminated the streets and showed the people lined outside to watch as guards and local men and women were holding hands and danced around the inn. The windows of the inn were open, revealing the rest of the guards playing music and singing. If one looked very carefully at the windows, one could spot Eli wearing something that was like a guard’s uniform but without any insignia, half-hidden behind Evgeni and looking down with a smile. 

With another sigh, she started copying the first drawing. If her brother fell, at least she would have his image standing tall and proud to remember him. 

&*&*

_Yastba, 14th of Spring,_

_My Husband, My Nikolaj,_

_Forgive me. All night, last night, I thought of the schedule, and how according to it, I am supposed to leave for Eisenfort this morning, and from there travel to Elbberg, Rodtal, Edleberg, then Fladd, and from there to Valentin. I thought of it for so long because, the trip by land will take almost two months, but last night at dinner, they told me that I could take the ship from Yastba to Deep Port and from there travel to Valentin, and that the journey would take perhaps ten or twelve days in total! Twelve days!_

_So, I have decided to not go to Eisenfort but rather take a ship to Deep Port and from there either sail over Storjord, or travel across it and take a ship to Fladd from the Port of the Icy Mountain, and from there go to Valentin._

_I wonder how traveling by ship is. I will write you as soon as we reach Deep Port. We are leaving as soon as I sign this letter._

_Yours always and forever,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. The truth is, I don’t want to go to Eisenfort. I want to see more of THE SEA!_


	15. Chapter 15

_Ivanof, 14th of Spring_

_My Most Wonderful and Sweet Darling,_

_Where are your notes for that unmentionable thing? And which books did you use for writing it? I looked everywhere in your library, but could not find anything. There were only those ~~horrible~~ romances. _

_Darling, I was told that the Ladies chose them for you. Do you like them? Be honest with me. I read some of them as I was trying to fall asleep and… Really, you like them? Honestly? If you do, I will not judge, but if you don’t, then I will ask: why do you keep them? It is your suite of rooms, and your library, My Darling. You should have only what makes you happy._

_So, I will write this here. Again. Darling, My Sweet and Wonderful Husband, Ivanhof is Ours. Not mine. Ours. Everything I have is yours. I said so in my vows to you in our third wedding. So, why have you chosen to share only the duties and the responsibilities with me?_

_When You are back, You should put whichever books you like in your library._

_And, yes, tell me, where are your notes and your books? We really need to work on various aspects regarding the liberation of slaves, but Our decision must seem stemming out of Our Benevolence, even if it is a practical matter. And We must keep the nobles happy to continue serving Us. I asked Her Grace, but she said that you had removed all the notes and books from your study room after the unfortunate event of the 5th, and she has no idea where you might have put them._

_I wish you were here. Then, we could write the unmentionable thing together._

_And now I just remembered one more thing: your decree about the modernisation of Quhjan. I’m sorry, I am still working on it, but between my regular work meetings and everything else that comes up, I simply do not have the time to work on it as much as I want. Worry not; the decree itself does not need much work, but We have asked Our engineers to write a technical study of the best way that the houses at Jedlowa could have running water, and whether it is possible to have heating in the houses without completely destroying them and rebuilding them. If We had to destroy Your home and Your kitchen, where You made Us such delicious apple jam, We would never forgive Ourselves. So, I have sent a team there, and I am waiting for their study._

_Darling, can’t you just come back? If We have to wait until Ilya and … but no, we have to wait. I have not found who sent you all that filth yet._

He frowned. No, his darling had no idea that he had opened his box. He couldn’t write that. He crossed the letter, took another sheet, and started again. 

&*&*

_Ivanof, 14th of Spring, evening (or should I have written night? It is late, but sleep eludes me, Darling)_

_I really wonder about your reading preferences. I don’t understand the appeal of romances. First of all, they are so full of improbable things. I started reading this story where a king meets a knight-errant as he hunts and, after they fight, they become fast friends. How could this happen? First of all, if a king were to come across a knight-errant, he would never bother with him, but rather ignore him and continue with his hunt. Secondly, he would never fight him himself; no, he would leave this task to his accompanying knights or guards. And if the knight-errant was stupid enough to challenge a king to a duel, then he’d probably either fight another of the king’s knights or get arrested without second thought._

_Then, on another night, I picked up a book about a woman whose lover is kidnapped by a witch and is forced by a spell to become the witch’s lover. There are no witches! How could anyone believe this story when there are no witches? And even if one accepted that there are witches capable of beguiling a man like that (although, THERE ARE NO WITCHES), the story continued with a plot that was just as unlikely: the knight’s first lover dressed as a man and went to free him. After meeting your sister, I can believe that women can fight as well as men, provided they use their agility and slighter built to cause fast, lethal strikes, but this woman was wearing an armour for most of the story. Surely that would have slowed her down. I could have believed that if she was only wearing a light, leather armour, but she wore a full metal one. And she was described as thin and slender and delicate. How could she carry that weight?_

_Who writes these things? I am also tempted to ask, who reads them too, but considering where I found them, I have the answer to that._

_I am not judging. I am curious. Do you really read them?_

_The other thing I could not understand at all was the ending. In none of the stories does the hero come back to a household full of wives, concubines and bed-mates. He always returns to his one and only sweet heart. I guess that appeals to you? But that was not what made me wonder. No, it was that this ending was ubiquitous, even in Bosilik stories. Does that mean that Our Bosilik Ladies secretly dream of being the only ones in their husbands’ beds? Then why did they make such a fuss when you did not allow them to take lovers from among your guards, and they always want to exercise their privilege to take lovers from among their slaves?_

_I should ask Her Grace next time I see her, since that will be faster than waiting for your reply._

_Oh, Darling, I am miserable without you, and lately I find myself irritated at the slightest thing. Every day, the only thing that alleviates my annoyance is the knowledge that I will lie in your bed in the evening and read one of your books._

_You know, after you left, I forbade them to wash your underclothes, and I would lie in your bed with one of them, but as the time passes, your faint scent on them has become even fainter. I don’t even know why I am lying in your bed, when we rarely used it when you were here. You would think that I would feel your presence more in my bedroom but that is not so._

_Actually, darling, I know why. Sleeping in our bed when you are not there makes me even more miserable. Sleeping in your bed makes me feel that you are just out for a few minutes, perhaps making some tea in the drawing room, or you have gone down to the kitchens, preparing something for us in the middle of the night._

_Time passes with the same speed as ever, yet, to me, it feels like it crawls as slowly as a snail._

_I am in a strange mood tonight. I miss you and I am maudlin and I don’t even have the urge to pleasure myself so I can sleep faster. I just want to lie here, and talk to you as if you were next to me. I want to know:_

_Do you really like the books the Ladies chose for your room? And, do you really like your rooms? I know they had to prepare them very quickly before our wedding, and so they furnished it according to their taste, but we’ve been married for almost two years (and our first three-year anniversary is in four months and fourteen days). You could have changed your rooms, and your library. Why haven’t you?_

_Where are all the books you have been buying?_

_Where is the diamond dress I had made for you? I know you didn’t like much, but I designed it myself with you in mind, and you always say that you love me. Did you get rid of my gift even though I had it made with love?_

_Speaking of diamonds, why don’t you have any jewellery? Pavel has a different watch made whenever he commissions a new suit, made to match it in colour and decoration. Andrej wears matching rings and brooches, and Mark has the most expensive collection of shoe buckles among all my Courtiers. I will not even start on the collection of jewels that the Ladies have! I am curious. I do think that jewellery would suit you (as you know), but I also have this theory. I have heard people speculate that you don’t wear them because you are frugal, but I know you like expensive fabrics for your clothes, so that can’t be it. I think, you know that you don’t need them, the same way you know you don’t need to wear make-up and you never wore any from the first day you came here._

_You know, even though you have been away for almost three months (it will be exactly three months in six days), no one has started wearing make-up again. Even in your absence, you rule and set the fashion._

_So, Darling, tell me, am I right or am I wrong?_

_What a mood I am in…. There is a pale sliver of a moon shining in the darkness of the sky, and who knows what a poet would think at the sight. But I am not a poet, I am your Husband, and the moon reminds me of your leg peeking from under our dark covers, thin and pale and strong. I long to hold you, Darling, I long to kiss you, Sweet, I long to fuck you, Husband. I want to grab your leg, and lift it so I can kiss it, and suck your toes and make you giggle as I tickle your foot._

_I want to make you moan and gasp with my caresses. I want to open you slowly so you can receive me with ease. I want to bury myself in you and not let go. I want to feel your nails on my back, and your teeth on my throat and your pretty cock pulsing in my hand._

_I want you so much._

_The swans have started coming back. Why are you still away?_

_Your restless Husband who misses you terribly,_

_Your Nikolaj_


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this becoming a proper musical? I think so....

_Deep Port, 16th of Spring, morning_

_My Husband, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you? Are you well?_

_Traveling by sea is wonderful. I loved it!_

_There is nothing like standing on a ship’s deck and feel the cold, salty splashes on your face as the ship cuts through the endless sea. It’s just WONDERFUL. I have rarely felt such excitement…_

_Well… I am lying – I have felt such excitement when you hold me and you kiss me and you fuck into me and … also when we do you know what else… the thing I shouldn’t be writing about, but it’s in my mind A LOT._

_Husband, HOW I MISS YOU!_

_Why is the postal service so slow? I wish I knew where we stand…._

_I have to stop here and go out because it seems like it will rain and I don’t enjoy walking out in the rain with Oleg, so this is really a very short note to tell you we’ve arrived and we are well. Even those of us who got sea sick are now well, and resting in their beds. I think we’ll have to continue by land, but… maybe they will let me go ahead by ship and wait for them at Fladd? Traveling by ship is SO MUCH FASTER!_

_I will try to persuade them…_

_Oleg also got sea sick. It caused him great distress and he whined a lot, so I let him sleep beside him, and not just by the foot of the bed. That seemed to calm him down a little. Poor Oleg. He is in better spirits now that we are on land, and he’s trying to dig a hole in the wooden floor as I write, so I really must take him out for his walk._

_Still waiting your reply,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. the postal service is not slow – but it feels so slow! Tell me, Husband, did any horses die as we write to each other? That would be so terrible…_

&*&*

_Deep Port, 16th of Spring, afternoon_

_My Husband, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_I just came back from my walk and must get ready for dinner already, but, before I am off, I will just write a few more words and will continue later. Not about the trip, or the other thing, but about Deep Port. We arrived in the morning, under a pale, grey sun and even in the greyness of the day, Deep Port is as pretty as a picture. The houses are tall, and painted in different colours. The blue rests next to the yellow, and that next to the red. It’s like they are dancing. We walked around for several hours, stopped for coffee twice and, oh, it really is a charming city, with narrow, winding streets at the centre, and wide streets in the suburbs._

_The city is built on a cluster of islands, connected by bridges, but whoever can afford it, uses boats to travel between the different parts of the city. This morning I walked, but I think I will start using the boats from tomorrow._

_Deep Port actually has several ports, one small, reserved for the royal family, a large, commercial one, and one where they build new ships and fix the old ones. We had hired a large merchant’s ship and so we arrived at the commercial one. The port was so big! The city itself takes its name from it, as it is not just big, but also deep. It is much, much bigger than the one at Yastba, and all around it there are warehouses, as well as the customs building, since goods from other countries enter Storjord only through this port, get evaluated and taxed, and then sent to the rest of the country. Storjord goods also leave the country through this port only._

_The commercial one is actually quite close to the city, only half an hour or so away by carriage, and another half hour away from the shipyards. That is where my guards (and I?) are staying while we are at Deep Port since, the moment we arrived, Count Resala, Our Ambassador, came to bring us a request from the King that, since we had been a bit too rowdy during our trip to Ustvela, it would be better if we did not disturb the peace of the people of Deep Port as we had done at Krzydzov. Strange; no one complained when we danced through half of Krzydzov._

_I was invited to stay at the royal palace, and the King has also invited me for dinner tonight, so now I really must stop and return to this letter at some later point._

&*&*

Elik looked at the confection in front of him and didn’t even lift his spoon off the table. 

“Just a little taste?” The King nudged him. “It is cake with marzipan and chocolate and cream.” He grabbed the cake from his plate and took a large bite. “See how it is layered?” he asked, showing Elik how the cake looked from the inside, but Elik’s attention was on the King’s mouth and how it was smeared with chocolate and cream.

“Thank you, I am completely full,” he said as politely as he could. He was also completely annoyed. Even though he was just a count, the King had made him sit next to him, and during the three hours that the dinner had lasted, the King had been eating everything with his hands, and spilling wine as he drank, as if he was trying to shock him with his lack of manners. 

“Are you sure?” he waved the cake in front of Elik for a moment, and then ate it all, stuffing his mouth with it, and making the cream spill down his chin. 

He nodded. He passed his plate to him. “Since you enjoy it so much, maybe you can have this one too?”

The King wiped his face with his napkin, looked at him, and started laughing, making everyone at the dinner table laugh as well. “Hm,” he said speculatively. “You really are a very polite … count. Please, can you reconsider your earlier decision? It would be nice if you stayed here for a few days. Maybe you can teach me some manners while you are here,” he laughed again. 

Elik studied him. He suspected that the King was playing another joke on him, but what would be the harm if he played along? 

“I’ve even prepared a different room for you,” the King said pleasantly as he stood up. “What do you say? I’ll show you the room so that you can see that I am sincere.”

He stood up and nodded. Leonid and Mischa moved forward, taking their place behind him, ready to defend him if anything happened. 

“Wonderful,” the King grinned and clapped him on the shoulder, almost throwing him down. 

The forty or so nobles who had been invited at the dinner also stood up and followed them out of the dinner hall. 

Elik couldn’t understand it. How could a man live in a palace as refined as this one and have no manners whatsoever? It had to be a joke, but what was the point of it? 

The King led him up a staircase and along a corridor. “Here,” he said at the penultimate of the rooms. He opened the door himself and motioned for Elik to enter.

Elik took one step forward and froze. Oh, no, not again. Only this time, the bed was not occupied by a blond Storjord man, but a woman, blonde, tall, statuesque, with beautiful skin. She was lying on it most seductively and completely naked, all her charms on display. 

He glanced. Next to him the King grinned expectantly. His courtiers were waiting eagerly. What would His Husband do? He studied the woman carefully, and slowly grinned. 

“Sire,” he said, turning to him, “Is this another ‘gift’?”

The King laughed, nodding. “You like it?”

“Please, allow me to refuse. As beautiful as she is, she cannot compare to the women I am used to.”

“Really?” he grinned, raising an eyebrow. 

“She’s wearing make-up.” He smiled. “At Bosilke, women know that wearing make-up in bed will ruin their beauty as it starts running down their face during the sexual act.” He grinned. “Or does Your Majesty expect me to just stare at her all night? Your Majesty, as lovely as your gift is, I am certain she will not be able to keep up with me, and she will be upset when her carefully applied make-up gets ruined. No, Your Majesty, I must definitely decline and go back to my men.” He winked, implying what he would do with his men. 

The King started laughing again. “Of course, my dear Count.” He motioned for one of his courtiers. “Baron Pedersen, please escort Our guest so that he won’t get lost.” He added something in Storjordi. 

As if he could. “Thank you.”

Baron Pedersen smiled at him. “Our Majesty really likes you,” he said. “He offered you two gifts.”

“And I was very honoured,” he lied and kept smiling. “I also enjoyed dinner. I would like the recipe for the liver paté.” That had seemed like a dish His Husband would enjoy. 

“I am certain that the King’s Chef would not refuse sharing his recipe.”

“Thank you.”

“Your Excellency, Your Excellency.” 

Baron Pedersen and Elik turned around. 

A guard gestured towards Elik. “Please, follow me.”

Curious, but not concerned, he did. Surely the King would not arrest him for not accepting his gifts. They hurried back, and found the courtiers gathered on the corridor, trying to look into the last of the rooms. 

“Make way, make way,” the guard shouted, and they parted, letting them through. 

The King was closing off the entrance to the room. He was not as tall as His Husband but he was broader, and Elik was not certain if this was because of fat or exercise. When he noticed Elik, he moved aside, letting him see into the room.

Elik froze. Maxim, Afanasy, Peter, and Fyodor were lying entwined on the King’s bed. Naked! And showing off how gifted they were. Grischa, Valery, Daniel and Alexey were half-kneeling, each one stroking suggestively one of the four posters of the bed, while Luca and Yury were kneeling on the floor, pointing backwards to the men on the bed.

The King laughed. “Is this your return gift, my dear Count?”

He stared at his men. What did they think they were doing? And how had they done this? They’d been at Deep Port for hours. How had they managed to get so friendly with the palace staff to let them into the king’s room? Or had they managed to break into it sneakily? 

Maxim separated himself from Peter and sat up. “Of course not,” he said proudly. “This is our gift, in return for your hospitality to us and our Young Lord.”

Before Elik could tell them that this was enough, and they should get dressed and follow him out, the King started laughing. “What an excellent gift. You really know how to thank a man,” he grinned. “Thank you, I accept it with gratitude.” He turned towards Elik. “Good night, dear Count. We will see you tomorrow at dinner.” He stepped forward and shut the door at Elik’s face. 

Elik turned to Baron Pedersen, shocked. “He can’t. He can’t.”

“He is the King. He can do whatever he wants.”

Elik took a deep breath. “We wish to see Our Ambassador now. Baron, will you escort Us to the Embassy?” He asked as he started half-running down. He was certain he would get lost if he tried to find it himself. 

With a grin, the Baron hurried after him. 

The rest of his guards were waiting by the main palace doors. “Maxim and the others did something stupid,” he said fast, switching to their language. “We must see Our Ambassador. Please, go home to Vasily and tell him that I will be there as soon as I can.”

The Baron gave a few orders in Storjordi. The doors opened moments and as they stepped out, one carriage started entering the courtyard. Elik ran to it and stepped inside. “To the Embassy, Baron. Please.”

The Baron, Mischa, and Leonid stepped into the carriage with him. Since it would have been rude to talk to his guards in Bosilik in front of the representative of their Storjord host, he stayed quiet during the short trip to the Embassy, but couldn’t help but look at his guards anxiously. Had they known what Maxim had been planning? How he wished they were alone so he could ask them.

“We are here,” the Baron told him. 

Elik jumped out and stared at the tall, dark building. There were no lights behind the windows. How dare their Ambassador be asleep when he was visiting? What if he had needed him urgently, as he did? Furious, he started hitting the door knock against the wood.

After what seemed like forever, but it was probably just a few minutes, the door opened slowly and slightly. Someone peeked between the gap, the light from a small lamp revealing a short, plump woman in a dressing gown hastily pulled over a nightshirt. Her nightcap let some of her blonde curls fall over her shoulder. “Yes?” she said in Storjordi, and continued in the same language. 

Whatever the Baron told her in reply made her open the door widely and let them in. “I will let his Excellency know you are here,” she said in Bosilik before running up the stairs. Her accent was light and lovely. 

“Our Ambassador is engaging in diplomatic relationships between our countries all the time,” Leonid muttered, his tone one of great amusement.

Elik couldn’t help but chuckle. It was very likely. 

Moments later, the Ambassador himself appeared, looking even more dishevelled than his Lady, who crept in behind him, looking pale. He had tried to wear breeches, but they were sliding down his legs as he moved and were visible even under the long dressing gown. 

“Button your trousers, man,” Mischa snapped when he saw him. “You’re in the presence of His Excellency.”

Elik turned around so as to give him some privacy. When Mischa coughed, he knew it was time for business. He faced the Ambassador. “Count Resala, you must send a request on Our behalf to His Majesty, King Hans Ulrich, to release Our Men immediately.” He stepped closer and stared into the Count’s eyes. “Now.”

“But, Your Maj…” At Elik’s glare, he started again. “Your Excellency, His Majesty will not see it now.”

How would His Husband say this? “Are you refusing Our request?” He asked in a low, angry voice. His Husband would also tower over the man threateningly, but the Count was almost as tall as Elik, so he could only glare. 

“No, no, Your Maj… Your Excellency, but…”

“We don’t care for excuses,” he shouted. “These are Our Men, Our Friends, and We want them back. Or, would you rather go to the North?”

The Ambassador’s Lady let out a soft shriek and hugged him from behind. She told him something in Storjordi, her voice soft and quick and pleading. 

Elik sighed, taking pity on her. He couldn’t stand it when lovers suffered, and the last thing he wanted was to make the Ambassador’s Lady miserable. “What were you trying to say?” he asked calmly. 

“His Majesty never receives anyone before 11 am,” Count Resala said, shivering. “But if Your Ma.. Excellency wishes, I will go now.” He tried to pry his Lady off him, but she held on to him as if Elik had ordered him to go to the North at that moment. 

Elik smiled. “Ah, We see now that Our demand was unreasonable. But it is an urgent matter for Us. These are Our Friends, and We expect you to be at the Palace tomorrow at 11 am with Our request for Our Men’s immediate release.”

“Of course, Your Excellency.” He finally managed to make his Lady let him go, and he bowed deeply to him. 

Elik sighed again. “I am sorry for disturbing you so late, but I am so worried about them. What if they are being tortured right now?” He sighed and turned towards Baron Pedersen. “Would His Majesty be so cruel?”

The Baron stayed quiet. 

Elik took the hand of the Ambassador’s Lady in his and placed a light kiss over the back of her palm, as he had seen the courtiers do at the court of King Hans Ulrich when they greeted a lady. “Dear Lady, be at ease. Your…”

“Husband,” she whispered, glancing at Count Resala with adoration before turning her blue eyes at him. Once again, they were filled with worry.

“Your Husband is in Our favour, since We know that he will do his duty to Us tomorrow.”

Count Resala nodded furiously, his head shaking like that of a puppet. 

He let her go and turned to his men. “Let’s go home.” 

Baron Pedersen smiled. “His Majesty has given his permission for you to use the royal barge on your journey back to your hotel.”

“Thank him for Us,” he said. “Ambassador. Dear Lady, I bid you good night.” He nodded at them and stepped out. 

The trip to the royal harbour was quiet again. He couldn’t wait for Baron Pedersen to leave them so he could ask his men if they knew what Maxim and the others had planned. What was the King doing to them? Had he arrested them for daring to go into his bedroom? Had he arrested his own guards who had let the intruders in? The morning was so far away. 

By the time they were in the royal barge and on their way back to their shipyard ‘home’ he was so worried, he couldn’t even ask Leonid and Mischa if they knew. He sat into the cabin, not interested in how beautiful it was, truly fit for a king. He looked out of the window to the sea, and listened to the sound of twenty oars quietly breaking its surface. 

“Hey, ho,” Roman’s voice rang out in the dark. He looked up from his contemplation of the calm, dark waters, and saw lights on the sea, revealing the vague shape of another barge approaching theirs. “Brothers, onwards we go.”

Leonid ran out at the front where the rowers where. A second later, Elik heard him sing back. “Brothers, today we march,” Leonid sang back loudly. 

“With fire in our blood, and righteousness in our hearts,” they all sang, making Elik shiver. It was all his choir, minus Maxim and the others. 

Elik stood up and went out to the back, where the captain stood. “How close can you go?” 

The captain shrugged and gestured that he had no idea what he was saying. 

“We are going to the Palace,” Roman shouted at them, cutting off his song.

“Oh, no.” Elik gestured to the captain towards the Royal Harbour. “Back. There,” he pointed and then made a turning motion. 

The captain pointed towards the palace. 

He nodded, and when the captain gave the command for them to return, he walked back to the cabin. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

Mischa smiled reassuringly. “It will all be fine. Our brothers are here.”

He nodded and looked at the sea. “At least they are qui…”

“Brothers, onwards we go,” Roman started again.

“Do you mind?” Mischa laughed.

When he shook his head, he too walked out of the cabin. When the time came, he heard them add their voices to that of the others. For a moment, he listened to them, sounding so much different in the sea than when they were on land, but then his worry returned. 

What would he do if anything happened to Maxim and the others? They had followed him out of a sense of loyalty and friendship, when they could have returned to their regiments. If anything happened to them, he would never forgive himself.

He let the sound of their march blend with that of the sea until they were back at the royal harbour. He left the barge swiftly and waited on the broad, paved, open court at the side of the mooring area until the barge with his men arrived and they were all out. “What are you thinking?” he asked them in a low voice when they had surrounded him. 

Vanya answered him. “We are going to storm the Palace and free Maxim and the others.”

“Are you mad? This will cause an Incident. We will all be arrested, and when we are sent back, we will be punished.”

“So?” Vanya shrugged. 

“I was overruled,” Vasily said, looking like a man who was happy he’d been overruled.

“I have talked to Our Ambassador and he will give to the King Our Formal Request for the release of Our men tomorrow morning,” he told them. “First we will try diplomacy.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” Vanya insisted. 

“Let’s talk about it when it doesn’t work,” Elik told them. “I don’t like ‘ifs’ anymore.”

“Excuse me, but, you know….” several started protesting at the same time. 

“Fine,” Elik shouted. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll storm the palace. Or find some way to…” He grinned. “I’m invited to dinner tomorrow. And, if Maxim and the others are not back, you will all come with me. All of you. We’ll take our swords because we will show them the sword dance. At dinner, we will take the King hostage and demand he releases our friends. I remember something of the palace’s layout.”

Mischa raised his hand. “If you don’t mind, I can draw the plan of the palace.”

“And I remember where the guards were stationed,” Leonid said. “And, considering where I had seen them before and after dinner, I think I can recreate their route and where they are stationed at each time.” 

Vasily looked at Elik. “I think we could do it.”

“But only after diplomacy fails,” Elik told them. “Promise?” At their nod, he continued. “The King likes pranks. Perhaps he just had a laugh and they’re all drinking ‘living water’ now for all I know,” he sighed. 

“Speaking of drinking,” Vasily said, smiling, “you look like you need a drink. And since we’re here…” He pointed to the end of the area they were in, and to the other side of the harbour, where the lights of street lamps mixed with those over the tavern doors. 

“Why not? This morning, Count Resala effectively said we were under Royal Command not to party in the town centre, so, let’s join the locals. And I do need a drink. I am so worried about them.” He glanced towards the direction of the palace, wishing it was day already.

“Should we make an entrance?” Vasily asked, his eyes shining. 

“What do you mean? This is not our party.”

Vanya snorted loudly. 

“If we do nothing but sing and dance and drink today, they will not be expecting us to ambush them tomorrow,” Vasily continued. 

He laughed. “Yes, let’s make an entrance. Hm… should we do the Birch tree? It sounds so wonderful when we are all singing it. Evgeni, do you want to lead?”

“You could lead, if you wanted,” Evgeni told him.

“No, I am too worried to sing alone. I’d rather sing along.”

Evgeni nodded. 

“But, Gentlemen, first you should go back to the barge, and leave your swords behind.”

“Or we could show them the sword dance later,” Vasily grinned. “By tomorrow morning, everyone will know of it, and when you suggest a private performance tomorrow, the King’s curiosity will be too great, and he will allow it.”

“Erm…” Osip raised his hand. “How many of us will be able to do the sword dance safely if we are drunk? Raise your hands,” he said as he immediately lowered his.

Elik raised his. He never drank as much as his men at any of their parties. Singing and dancing with his friends made him feel just as drunk as them. A moment later he realised his was the only hand up. 

“In that case,” Vasily grinned, “Let’s put the swords in the barge. Leonid and Mischa, you will give your swords to our Young Lord later, so he can show everyone how it’s done.” 

One after the other they returned to the barge and came back. Ah, they really were crazy, he thought, smiling as he watched them. How he loved them. 

When they were back at land, he grinned.” He raised his hand and pointed to the end of the harbour, the way His Husband did when he pointed towards the enemy battlelines with his sword. “Let’s start our entrance, Gentlemen. Evgeni?”

Evgeni took one slow step ahead, singing the first verse alone and loudly. Vasily, Leonid, Mischa, and he started walking behind him just as slowly, and the others followed in the same formation. Elik noticed that people began stopping to see what was happening. 

When the first verse was over, they started the chorus. Elik loved how soft and slow it started, but as it continued, it became fasted and louder, until they were all singing at the top of their voices as fast as when they were singing Little Lady, Lady Miss. By the time they had finished singing the refrain for the first time, everyone had stopped and was just looking at them, confused. 

Evgeni began singing the second verse.

Ah, how wonderful he sounded in the sweet, warm night. 

What would he write His Husband after this? How he hoped diplomacy would work. Storming the palace of one of their allies with the purpose of securing the release of his friends, was probably even more seditious an act than writing the filth he had written during winter. No matter how patient Nikolaj could be with him, he’d probably never forgive him that. 

If he survived the disgrace, would he be damned to roam the West in exile? And without His Husband and his home (both Ivanof and at Jedlowa), what would he do with his life? Become an oddity in the various courts, the Empress that had lost his Husband and his crown for his soldiers? 

As the second chorus started, he shrugged. He was tired of ‘ifs’. Ifs just made him unhappy, and he was not going to be unhappy anymore. If it came to that, he’d figure something out. He was young, he was strong, and he could definitely sing for his supper. He’d find a way. 

But how he hoped that diplomacy would work!

&*&* 

_16th of Spring, evening_

_Back from dinner. I am not staying at the palace!_

_The royal palace is so close to the royal harbour that it was easier and quicker to take a boat from the shipyard building where we stay and travel by that, instead of by carriage. So, we did like the other Deep Port people do! The King himself came to greet me there, even though I am just an amateur singer traveling around with his choir. I wonder why people don’t see that?_

_The King is a tall, handsome man in his forties with a ruddy complexion who can’t stop grinning. His portraits make him appear more dignified, but believe me, he’s always laughing at something or other. He is very jolly and friendly, indeed. After we had arrived to the palace, the King insisted on showing me where I would stay, were I to accept his invitation. His Palace is much smaller than that of King Francis, but much more tastefully decorated, with pale cream walls accented with gold, and not many furniture. It looked pleasant, until the King showed me to my room._

_Husband, I lie not! There was a naked man waiting for me on the bed! And King Hans Ulrich said it was a ‘gift’! I was speechless for a moment, but then I thought, what would My Most Libidinous and Pleasure-loving Husband say at the sight? Apart from ‘thank you,’ that is? So, I thought of you, and said, “Thank you, but I already have a hundred men, what can one do for me?”_

_King Hans Ulrich thought it was hilarious, so he clapped me on the back (he has a heavy hand), and we went for dinner. As usual, there was some music and some dancing afterwards, where my guards performed a few old favourites and showed off their skills, and after that the King said that he was sorry, and he wanted to ask me to stay one more time. So, back we went, and this time, there was a naked woman there!_

_So, again I thought of you, and what you would say, and you came to my rescue again! I told him that beautiful though she was, she could not compare to the women of the Empire, since they knew that vigorous activities would ruin their make-up and so did not wear it in bed. So, I politely refused his gift, since, clearly a Storjord woman could not keep up with me, and asked to retire, something which he allowed good-naturedly and with great amusement._

_I wasn’t even at the exit, when I was called back. Somehow (I really don’t know how), ten members of my choir had managed to go to the King’s bedroom and waited for him there. Naked! I swear, I have no idea how they did it! So, the King asked me if that was my ‘return gift’, which was even more embarrassing a thought than accepting one of his earlier ‘gifts’._

_So, there I was, frozen to the spot, when Maxim said that they were not ‘my’ gifts, but they had decided themselves to show their gratitude for the King’s hospitality. They probably expected the King to laugh and send them off, but the King laughed and sent ME off._

_Oh, Husband, the idea of my poor men at the palace of that beast! It is horrible! What if he has arrested them? I went to let Our Ambassador know that either he wrote a most official request to the King to have Our Guards returned to us safely, or I would send him to the North, and I have just returned to our shipyard ‘home’ after drinking at the royal harbour area. I have never felt more like having a drink in my entire life. NEVER._

_Husband, I am so miserable. My poor guards…._

_I am lying. I have felt this badly that I needed a drink before. Oh, how miserable it is, to need a drink._

_17th of Spring, morning_

_Just a hurried little addition to this letter before I send it off._

_My men came back! Turns out, after my Guards saw the King’s joke on me, they decided to play that joke on him. Those who didn’t mind sleeping in his royal bed volunteered, just in case the King accepted their ‘gift’. The BEASTS! They had me worrying all night, while they were enjoying themselves and exhausted Your Royal Brother. They told me that he cancelled all his meetings for today, but they will go back and make sure he gets enough rest before dinner and the evening’s entertainment (where I am NOT his guest of honour, it is just a normal evening at the palace)._

_I have sent Dima with a message telling Our Ambassador not to send that request and now I need to get some fresh air….. Husband, my head still aches after worrying about them all night. Unless it hurts from drinking. They have something like vodka that they call ‘living water’ and to which they add all sorts of things. I tried one with a hundred herbs last night. It was not for me…._

_Your ever-faithful and easily-turned-speechless Husband,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. I only had one glass to know that ‘living water’ was not for me. They serve it in the tiniest of glasses, but it is so strong. I did not get drunk, since I was able to do the sword dance without any problems, but it is strong_

_p.p.s. They usually serve it with herring pickled with herbs and that I liked much better._

_p.p.p.s. what kind of a dog is Oleg? I have not seen another dog like him so far and he makes people stop and stare at him. Also, I have not seen any dogs like Sasha either. What kind of a dog is Sasha? When I am back, I think I would like a dog like Sasha too. May I have one?_

_p.p.p.p.s. I am sending you some ‘living water’ and pickled herring so you can try them too. They told me they are good for breakfast, but even I realised they were making fun of me_

_p.p.p.p.p.s. Last night we did not have a party. We went to the area of the royal harbour instead, and… why did they even write to me that my parties were disturbing the peace? The royal harbour area is filled with taverns where everyone gets drunk on beer and fucks in back street corners and gets so loud that my parties looked tame in comparison. I was so irritated. I can’t decide if I should just rent all the taverns at the area of the Royal Harbour and hold my party there tonight, or invite everyone at the shipyards. Because I will be having a party tonight, after I go to the THEATRE. The King has built a small building dedicated to plays, so I’m really looking forward to that_

_p.p.p.p.p.p.s. I still don’t know how my men went into the Royal Bedchamber. Maxim and the others would not tell me. I wonder, should I try and get them drunk enough to tell me tonight? Maybe not…. Vasily is a tough Master of Ceremonies. He makes sure that no one gets so drunk that they can’t perform the next day. I suspect he has inn-keepers water the beer, but since no one says anything, how can I? Other that, or beer here is weaker than beer back home… Wish you were here. You’d probably be able to differentiate between weak and watered beer, because I can’t._

_p.p.p.p.p.p.p.s. I just realised! Maxim and the others have managed to ‘capture’ the noblest ‘sweetheart’ of all my guards!_

_p.p.p.p.p.p.p.p.s. I have nothing else to write for now. I just wanted to add one more p._

_p.p.p.p.p.p.p.p.p.s. I just remembered; I hired two more draughtsmen to draw what we see because there are SO MANY marvellous things that poor Matuschek is not able to draw them all. What I REALLY wished I could do, though, was hire craftsmen so they could build us ships. Even a small ship, just small enough for sailing across a lake would be enough. Small ships are called boats, and they are not as impressive as the large merchant ships or the mighty warships, but I would be happy even with a small boat… The King has a boat that he calls a barge. Apparently, there is a difference, but to me it looks like a fancy boat… I wouldn’t mind one of those, but I would be happy with the simplest of boats_

&*&*

_Deep Port, 17th of Spring, evening_

_My Husband, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you?_

_I am well and I simply MUST write this before tonight’s party. Plays performed in a proper theatre ARE SO MUCH BETTER than in an open space, as they were performed back at the summer fair at Jedlowa._

_The King’s Players performed a delightful little comedy about two young people who meet by accident, fall in love, get separated and then find their way to each other’s arms again after several funny things happen to them. There was a lot of dancing in courtly manner, and singing, and now I am so excited that I want nothing but to go out and dance and sing._

_But I am also so, so sad that you are not with me. I want to dance WITH YOU!_

_Husband, I am so full of love for you._

_I love you so much. I love you too much. I wish I were sorry but I’m not._

_Your lonely and suffering Husband,_

_Your Elik_


	17. Chapter 17

The moment his secretary was out, Nikolaj opened his darling’s letter impatiently. 

_Krzydzov, 8th of Spring_

_My Heart, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you? I am well, and missing you so, so much!_

_Your letter gave me such joy. Oh, I wish I had enough words to express it but I really don’t. If you were here, I would kiss you and kiss you and kiss you. And then I would kiss you more, trail kisses down your broad shoulders and the sensitive hollow of your throat and your strong chest. I would lick your nipples until they hardened under my tongue._

_And then I would grow impatient because I can never restrain myself when it comes to you and kiss your cock. I would kiss the head, trap it between my lips, and lick the underside and then go up and lick the tip until you started getting wet. I would play with your balls because I love how velvety soft your skin is there, and how I can feel them tighten under my fingertips when you are about to climax, and I would tease you and caress you and suck you, until you finished into my mouth, your ejaculate hot, salty, a little bitter, a little sweet, thick, liquid, filling me._

_I would like to do more things after that, but I would rather show them to you when we are together…._

The tease, Nikolaj grinned. The circumspect tease, who thought that he’d somehow make Nikolaj appear less than he was if he wrote that he wanted to fuck him, and that Nikolaj liked being fucked by him. “Ah, darling,” he sighed, missing him terribly. 

_I would also like to talk to you afterwards. Not about my day, this time, but other things. Unhappy things. Husband, I will say it. Life at Court makes me unhappy._

Nikolaj gasped. He’d thought his darling would finally tell him about the ‘sleeping dogs’, not that he’d been unhappy. He continued reading. 

_Not life with you. Life at Ivanhof. I know you wish I am quieter and more dignified and as proud as the Empress Dowager,_

“No, I want you to be brilliant and make Our Court shine,” he shouted, angry that his darling thought that he just wanted a pretty doll or someone as forbidding as his Mother by his side. “Although, I do want you to be a little less outrageous in public.” They’d have to talk about that. At some point. He returned to the letter.

_and I am trying so hard to be good for you and the Empire, but…. I cannot be what Lady Ekaterina taught me. I cannot keep quiet all the time, just so people will not be offended and get angry. I cannot be nice to everyone. Not when they are not nice to me._

Finally, they were getting to the ‘sleeping dogs’. Was that why he had kept silent about them? Out of some mistaken idea that he had to make everyone happy?

_I know you and Lady Ekaterina never take me seriously when I say that half the Court hates me, and perhaps it is because I exaggerate. I do not know how many hate me, but some do, and it is so exhausting being nice to them all, when I know how vicious some of them are. At dinners, at dances, at picnics, they smile at me and I wonder ‘is this the one who thinks I’m the Emperor’s whore?’, or ‘is this the one who thinks I would make a nice roast?’_

_That makes little sense to you. I know._

Nikolaj sighed. If only. 

_There is a box in the side-table next to my bed. I have the key with me, but I am certain you can force the lock easily, or break it. When you open it, you will see what I mean. Perhaps the wise thing would have been to ignore them and throw them away instead of keeping them, but they reminded me that I had to be nice to them all. That I had to be careful, and quiet, since I am so good at being outrageous and an embarrassment to you._

_And you will probably be angry with me when you see what it holds, because I kept it from you. I am sorry, I really thought that if I kept quiet and showed no irritation, they would stop._

The worst part was that he could see his darling’s expression before him, calm and apologetic.

_But, Husband, you know? I never was good at gardening._

And this is where his expression would change, and be completely unashamed, because Elik had been so certain that he’d been right, that… Ah, how he had missed his ‘Sorry, but I’m not sorry at all,’ proud expression, and his belief that he’d done the right thing at the time. 

_And Ivanhof was like a garden to me – full of beautiful flowers, but I couldn’t tell which were safe, and which were poisonous, so I never stepped inside it. It was a mistake, wasn’t it? Especially when I am married to the gardener._

_Husband, will you take out the poisonous plants for me? Or wait until I am back so you can teach me how to do it? Because, I cannot live in that garden anymore, yet, I miss you so much. I want to come home, and everything I see and do just makes me more and more homesick._

_Even the parties make me homesick. I wish I could dance away my sadness, but…. Remember how we had danced at our wedding? Why do you hate dancing that much? Every night, I am dancing and all I wish is that you were with me, and I could hold your strong hands and we could whirl and jump as if we had no cares and no worries (just for a few moments)._

_Yet, despite my longing, I can’t come back if home remains how it was. I can’t._

He felt a shiver run down his spine. His love was issuing an ultimatum. Them or me, and if you choose them, I will leave you. It was unheard of that an Empress could leave her Emperor, but his darling was strange and wild. Elik’s possessive, jealous love and the need to please Nikolaj were always in competition with his pride and stubbornness. When his love decided on something, nothing could steer him off his course. Hadn’t he spent their entire first month as Husband and Husband denying him his sweet presence during the day, spending his time instead studying the Book of Conduct? 

He smiled. It was a good thing he’d already started trying to find and remove the poisonous plants from their garden, then. 

_And since I am completely honest, I will also say this. I feel that I am causing you nothing but problems. You are so generous and kind, yet I keep asking for more, never satisfied with what I have. Even now that I am not there, I am asking. And I am also saying this. When I come home, if you allow it, then I will no longer be silent or quiet. I cannot please everyone, so I will not be that person. I will not be the plaster that hides the cracks in the court, and tries to keep every faction happy, as Lady Ekaterina says I must do. And I will no longer keep myself away, because I am your Empress and I must have neither friends nor favourites._

Nikolaj sighed again. Lady Ekaterina was right; an Empress should not take sides, nor should she have favourites. Why couldn’t his darling understand that? He continued reading. 

_I will make friends, and My Guards will remain my favourites, my pride, and my joy. When courtiers snicker behind my back that I am a Quhjani peasant that doesn’t know how to wear make-up or jewellery, I will no longer pretend I can’t hear them. I will turn and tell them that I have nothing to hide behind creams or rouge, and that Our Army is the only jewel I care to have. And when they hiss behind me that I should have remained your bed-slave, I will not look away as if I am in shame, but I will turn and face them, and tell them that You Married Us, and We will not tolerate this._

He frowned. He had no idea things had been so bad between Elik and their Court, and that they treated his love as badly as if he were nothing but an Imperial concubine that had tried to take the rightful Empress’ place, as it had happened with Mikhail II’s favourite concubine, Marta. Even though Mikhail II had never punished her for her crime and kept her in court, his courtiers had persecuted her so viciously that she had hanged herself. They treated him as badly as the Courtiers of his grandfather had treated his Empress, after he had openly insulted her at one of the banquets and had her take off her jewels and give them to his favourite mistress, the beautiful Duchess Amalia.

He sighed, certain that, had Lady Ekaterina been aware of how badly his courtiers were treating Elik, she would have done the right thing, and told him to continue being quiet and accepting, the way Marta had done, or his grandmother, and keep the Court happy. That was what Empresses did. They were patient and tolerant. But his love was not a concubine that had disgraced herself, nor a main wife that no longer held her husband’s affection. His Elik was his darling, his love, his One and Only. 

Had he done something to make their courtiers think that he did not hold Elik in favour? He must have; they wouldn’t turn against his darling so brazenly without thinking that they had his approval.

Or was his darling right, and his courtiers truly hated him because of who he wasn’t, and who he was? Not a Bosilik noblewoman, not a western princess, only his war-caught bride from a faraway and backward land? 

How many poisonous flowers were in their garden? 

_I cannot be nice to those who are not nice to me anymore, Husband._

_Strange; it was easier to write this than I thought. Yet, now I will have to wait for days before I get your reply. I wish I had told you all these before leaving; I would have seen your reaction immediately – even if you’d probably be mad at me again. I so hate it when you are mad at me. If this letter (and my request) makes you mad, don’t hide it. And if I am such a problem, tell me how to solve it, because I can’t. Not on my own._

Ah, and when his darling’s pride turned into this black despair? What could he do to stop it? “Damn you,” he screamed, “Damn you.” When he found who had made his darling think he was a problem…. Beheading would be too good for them. 

_Your Husband, who will be suffering from longing and misery until you reply,_

_Your Elik (always yours, crazily yours)_

_p.s. I wonder, do you think I ask for perpetual happiness? I know one cannot be happy all the time, but being unhappy most of the time cannot be good either, can it? And I have been so unhappy lately… I wrote I cannot dance away my sadness, but every night, seeing everyone so happy, that makes me happy too. I love seeing Roman fawn over Stepan, and Vanya has been married and divorced three times already, Evgeni is having a fling with an ambassador (a count, no less – I think none of the other guards have such a noble sweetheart…). Their joy is my joy, and… that’s all I wanted for Our Court, Nikolaj, to make it a place of happiness, and so I kept quiet to make them happy, but, as it turned out, I only made myself sad…_

_p.p.s. And, you know what? I will take you at your word, and tell you EVERYTHING. Husband, I discovered the only thing that scares me: losing your love. The weeks before I left, you looked at me strangely. Did you even know that you did that? It frightened me. Your anger doesn’t frighten me, although it makes me sad, because it means I did something you didn’t like, and all I want to do is please you, all the time._

_I did promise you that when I first came to Ivanhof, but that was the promise of a slave who had no choice but to be good or suffer, and have his family killed because of him. Ever since we married (our second marriage, at Jedlowa), I want to please you because I love you, and your joy is my joy. That is the vow of a free man, who has chosen his own bonds._

_Sometimes I am also scared of how madly and crazily I love you, but I don’t care about that anymore. I love you, I love YOU, I LOVE YOU. And I love loving you and being in love with you, and suffering with longing for you now that we are not together. I love this sweet torment so much, because it’s my love for you._

_There, I have said everything. I will have nothing else to say about this matter until I read your reply, so, on these matters, I will keep silent. I will keep writing to you, though, because I cannot do otherwise. I am so full of love for you, and so crazy with it. I so wish I had told you all these things before, instead of waiting to find out where we stand._

Ah, what would he do with this love-mad Husband of his? He got out and found his secretary in a quiet discussion with Mark. “Ah, Chancellor,” he smiled, “Just the person I wanted to see. Count Njedzic, please cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day.” He returned to his study, Mark following him. 

“Do you remember where that little swan is?” he said as he sat down. 

Mark stared at him as if he spoke a foreign language. “What swan?”

“The one made of pearl and with the little diamonds. The one I had given to my darl… Consort as part of his morning gift.”

“It’s in the Treasury.”

“Ah. Sit, sit. Will you get it for me? Now that my Consort is not here, I should…”

“His Majesty has been away for weeks. Why now?”

“Why do you always sound like you tell me ‘no’?”

“Because that little swan may be charming and pretty, but it was out of fashion when you gave it as a gift, and now it is not only old-fashioned but not suitable too. No man wears pendants.”

“This one will. Perhaps We will have it attached to a brooch; that would make it suitable.”

“Still out of fashion.”

“I don’t care. I want to wear my darling’s emblem over my heart.”

Mark snorted. “Really? That’s oddly sentimental for you.”

He looked down for a second. It had seemed like such a good idea when he’d read it in one of his darling’s romances, and even better when he read how their Courtiers had been treating his darling. “Does it matter?” he asked defensively. “I want it.”

“Fine, I’ll have it found and sent to you. Anything else?”

“Yes. I don’t want to deal with any reports today. Can you handle things? If there is something absolutely urgent, you may disturb me, but I need to be alone today.”

Mark glanced down, clearly looking at the letter on his desk.

“I need time to calm myself, for I am so angry,” he told him. “If I see anyone, I’ll probably whip them myself.”

“What happened?”

“Our Courtiers have been treating Our One and Only Spouse and Consort as if he were in disgrace.”

Mark gasped. “That bad?”

He nodded. His poor darling; he was trying so hard to be dutiful, but he only made himself miserable. 

“Then, perhaps it is a good thing that he’s away.”

Nikolaj frowned. He hadn’t realised he’d spoken out loud. “Mark, tell Count Njedzic to inform the Chiefs of police that We do not need to have daily reports on their progress anymore. Weekly reports will do.” He snorted. “They come here every morning, telling me nothing. I’m tired of being annoyed at their slowness.”

“They are thorough.”

“Have you heard anything?”

“Officially? No.”

“Unofficially, then?” he asked impatiently. 

“Unofficially,” Mark said in a very low voice, as if they were not alone in his office, “Countess Nelidova, Baroness Zmryonova, and Countess Romolova met several times with the General, and had complained that His Majesty was making them study material that should be forbidden. They deny ever discussing the coup with him.” Mark snorted. “Do you think the old fool really wanted to make everyone free?”

Nikolaj shrugged. How could he know?

“During winter, they passed on several notes from their study sessions to him, and thought that the General was encouraging them because he too shared their opinion that His Majesty was being absurd and almost seditious. They also admitted that they bribed Lady Anna Semyonova, the youngest of his maids-of-honour to steal the draft.”

“Why haven’t they reported all this to me?”

“They want to have Lady Semyonova’s confession first.”

“They are being cautious,” he hissed. 

Mark nodded.

“Get Lady Anna to confess.”

“She’s a child.”

“She was old enough to be bribed,” he said. “But since she is a child, I will be merciful. I will have her and her family exiled to the North, instead of executed. Let her family know, and persuade her to confess.”

Mark nodded. “Major Kosuchov insists that he only joined the General with his battalion because he really thought that His Majesty’s life was in danger.”

“From me?”

Mark make that awkward half-shrug that meant he wanted to say ‘yes’ but couldn’t say it.

He still couldn’t remember what he had done at the Winter Solstice Ball, but it must have been bad. “Did I hit him? He said that I almost did, but what if he lied to me?”

“No. But it was clear to everyone that you did not treat him like your honoured main wife at the Ball, and at other occasions.” Mark snorted. “You touch him too much in public.”

“He likes it. I like it too. What’s wrong with that?”

“A Husband must be circumspect and honourable towards his main wife. One can excuse his behaviour, because what else can one expect from a bed-slave, but yours?”

Nikolaj stood up and leaned over Mark. “What did you just say?” he growled. 

“I am just repeating what Major Kosuchov and Countess Nelidova have said,” Mark said calmly. Mark stared at him with a patient expression, as if he were a child – or an idiot. “That’s why you haven’t heard anything officially. Everyone is worried you’ll order their executions the moment you read what they have been saying.”

“What’s wrong with that?” he shouted.

“Kill them now, and whoever else may be involved will never be arrested.”

“Fuck.”

Mark nodded. 

“So, they say I am lecherous and have treated my main wife as a bed-slave, because that’s all he is,” he sighed. He loved touching his darling, and his darling loved dragging him to the nearest room. They had to stop because of the stupid Bosilic rules of conduct? “This is not my Mother’s regency, but my reign. If We have to break with some traditions, then so be it. But to go back to the Reds, why didn’t the other battalions take arms against Us?”

“The other two majors leading them are Lesnev and Smith. Smith didn’t want to be involved in ‘internal affairs.’ I fear he does not feel fully integrated into the Bosilke empire, despite his post and having been born here. As for Lesnev, well, you know who he is. He would never raise arms against His Majesty – or his husband.”

“Why don't they serve together? You know who I mean.”

Mark grinned. “With black hair and at five feet seven? How? He's not eligible for the Special Guards. Besides, until recently, and according to the now repealed decree of the Empress Dowager, both Majors could not serve together, since the tall Lesnev served first under Your Majesty and now serves under Your Consort. The two of them could not be at court at the same time. Having them serve in regiments in the same city is the closest thing to having them serve together.”

“Ah, that. That was a stupid decree. Why was it even in place?”

“Because of Setland.”

“What about him? Isn’t he… somewhere? Which Palace have We given him?” He smiled. “Ah, Setland, yes, I remember him.” A short, compact and muscular man, with thick, black hair and light brown eyes. He was very handsome. “He had been pretty to look at, but after We sent him to his palace, we started planning the campaign against the Rhenairi, and We got distracted. How does time fly,” he chuckled and immediately realised that Mark looked at him with horror, so he stopped smiling. “What about him?” 

“You are serious. You don’t know what happened to Setland,” Mark said, still looking shocked. “I’m sorry to bring bad news. He killed himself, soon after he was sent to his Palace.”

“Why?” Nikolaj froze. And no one had informed him? His Mother; he was certain she’d ordered it hidden from him. “Had he preferred death to the dishonor of being a war-caught bride?”

“Rather, the dishonor of not being a man anymore,” Mark said seriously. 

He banged his fist on the table. “That does it. That custom is hereby ended. After I write to my dar… Consort, I will write up the decree ending this stupid tradition.” He took a deep breath. “Have I given you enough work for today? 

Mark nodded. “I will have the swan pendant found and adjusted for wearing as a brooch by dinnertime.”

“Bring it to me before dinner. I want to wear it then.” 

“You know what would be amusing? If we all started wearing his emblem. After seeing you wear it, of course.”

“I will not force anyone to do it, but if anyone misses my Consort’s presence at court as much as I do, I will not be upset if they too wear jewellery with little swans,” he grinned. That would be truly amusing. “See you later?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” 

When he was alone again, he realised that he was no longer angry. He dipped his quill in the purple ink that he used in his official correspondence with other rulers and started writing his reply. 

&*&*

As usual, the first thing his secretary did was to bring him his correspondence and his schedule for the day. There was a letter from his darling, but also a report from their Ambassador at Krzydzov. A very lengthy report, because as the Count explained at the beginning, he thought that it might be better if he sent one rather than ten different ones. 

He read that first, and it made him laugh so much, he could not help himself. He started writing to his love before even reading his letter. 

_Ivanhof, 25th of Spring,_

_My Absolutely Wonderful Darling,_

_Recently, I had been getting worried that you have calmed down, but this morning I received a report from Our Ambassador at Krzydzov about your evening entertainments._

_DARLING! I was so happily surprised! No, I was delighted!_

He truly was. His love had written that he had started dancing and singing most of the night for the past nights, but he hadn’t mentioned that they had been so excited on the night before arriving at Krzydzov that they had broken all the furniture in the inn they had been staying (all damages paid, of course). There was also a story about how, two nights before arriving at Krzydzov, some guards had been playing music from the roof of the mayor’s palace, and no one knew quite how they had climbed up there. A cow may or may not have been involved – the Ambassador had heard so many different accounts of that evening’s entertainment that he could not tell what was true and what was false. 

And if there were no more cows or breaking of furniture involved at the Krzydzov parties, his darling hadn’t mentioned either that practically half the town was invited to them, or that after two days of being in the city the guards stopped traffic in the streets and caused a commotion wherever they went because they had so many admirers. Nor had he mentioned on his letter from the 10th that he and his guards had played music and danced across half the city, and whenever they saw people staring down at them from windows, they called out to them to join them, and the young men and women of the city had eagerly accepted the invitation. The Ambassador could confirm that after a stop at the Bjeliovic-Kontoff palace, the procession stopped at Krzydzov’s central square and the party continued until after dawn. Had Crown Prince Anton not been in that procession, he was certain that everyone would have been arrested. 

For a moment he was so glad he didn’t live in Krzydzov. He liked his sleep. But he liked his sleep more when his darling was there. If he were at Krzydzov, lonely and missing his darling as he was, he’d probably also join a procession of merry men and women and party until dawn. 

_I was also happy to read that I was wrong about the guards. They don’t make people jealous; they make people full of desire. That also means I was right about them, though, doesn’t it? That you have the most handsome and attractive and talented men of Our Empire with you._

_When you return to Us, instead of Us holding a feast to welcome you, You will be in charge of the proceedings. I fear Our entertainments will have become too tame for You. Especially now that you are not here, and it’s back to playing cards and drinking. I think the Ladies regret it bitterly that they did not defend you and begged Us to let you stay; We have banned them from any entertainment at Our Court, and have forbidden Lady Ekaterina to hold Court in your place._

And that served them right. Oh, when he could finally know the names of the traitors and have them judged and found guilty.

_Your loving Husband, eagerly waiting your return,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. I am so happy that you are dancing your way across the West. Are you learning any new dances?_

Smiling, he signed it and had a look at his schedule, although he didn’t need to. Today was audience day, as it always was. He had just one hour to reply to his darling. He could do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elik has some yandere tendencies... it's a good thing he's so meek otherwise! lol


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps this is a musical.... sorry! lol

Elik stared ahead. There was nothing like slowly approaching a new harbour. If he could have his way, they would have stopped at each town from Storjord to Fladd just so he could enjoy the sight, but he was certain that his men would mutiny. They were already indulging him so much, and Irina had been complaining that he was abusing Oleg with all the sailing. Poor Oleg; he didn’t know why he was suffering, and looked at him with such sad eyes that Elik not only slept with him, but also carried him in his arms whenever it was possible. At that moment, Oleg was lying by his feet, tiredly resting. Poor Oleg. 

“So, this is Fladd?” Vasily asked him. 

He nodded. Beyond the harbour and its warehouses, tall buildings cut into the sky and dozens of ships sailed besides theirs. They glided on the surface of the water, as they approached the area where they would moor, reminding him of how women danced at home. 

“I’m so happy I could sing,” he whispered.

Vasily chuckled.

“Really?” Vanya asked from behind him. 

He nodded and smiled as Vanya ran back to his friends. 

“I’m glad they still have energy to run. I promise, tonight we can rest.” He was certain they’d need it; he could hear a lot of people running behind him. 

“I wouldn’t mind another day aboard the ship. The Purser won at cards last night, and it would be nice to get some of my money back.”

He smiled. “I’m certain we can find some other place for you to play cards.”

“You promised no partying tonight.”

“I did, but between no partying and no playing cards, there is a difference,” he grinned. 

Vasily shook his head, amused. 

“To be honest, this is getting a little… boring. If we are to have a party tomorrow, it has to be a good party. We should…” 

“There was a girl at Fladd, this tale of her I say,” he heard someone singing from the top of the central mast.

“This tale of her, this tale of her, this tale of her I say,” a very familiar choir replied. 

He turned around and saw several of his men up on the ship’s three masts together with the sailors singing. 

“I know,” he told Vasily excitedly. “Can we have a party on the ship?” 

“I will see what I can do.” Vasily put his arm in front of Elik. “Stay.”

“I …” He grinned. Had Vasily not stopped him, he would have run and climbed on the mast like his friends. “Can I sing along, at least?”

“Do you even know the words?”

He nodded. “I put my hand on her arm,” he sang together with the men. This was not something he would write to His Husband, he decided. 

&*&*

_Fladd, 25th of Spring, late afternoon,_

_My Husband,_

_How are you? I am well!_

_Today we arrived at Fladd after sailing around Storjord. The weather was wonderful and the sea mostly calm. The sailors at Deep Port had instructed us to fast before the journey and abstain from drinking, so we had to delay our departure for one day, since we had SUCH A BIG PARTY on the 18th, after serenading the King._

_Your Royal Brother was so amused that he joined us, and He taught us the proper way of drinking ‘living water’, as well as a popular dance called ‘Ustvi’ because it comes from Ustvela. The King’s Singers sang Sea Songs for us, as well as Beer Songs. They really are called that! In return, we sang drinking songs and taught Your Royal Brother and his entourage how to dance Little Lady, Little Miss, since that’s so easy to dance when one is a little drunk. Or very drunk…._

_So, we were very restrained on the 19th, and only had a small party at the shipyards. Our friends there sang more Sea Songs, and we sang more drinking songs, even though we had no other drinks but water (but not our friends – we made sure they had as much beer as they liked)._

_Thanks to this measure, my Guards were not as afflicted by sea sickness on this trip. Furthermore, our Captain suggested that pleasant smells could alleviate the suffering of our men and drive away the feeling of nausea, so we used some of the lavender I had with moderate to great success. In addition, and quite by accident, we discovered that tea helps soothe the stomach, so it was so good that we had such large amounts of it with us._

_All in all, even though some thirty of my Guards felt sea sickness, only a few got so sick that they vomited, and on the whole, they all suffered with great dignity and patience. Since it was my fault for insisting that we travel by ship, I hope you understand why I was their nursemaid during the trip. Husband, I’d rather clean blood than vomit, but don’t ever tell that to anyone. Although, I prefer nursing men who are not in danger of dying any day!_

_This will explain why I did not write any letters between the 19th and now. We were traveling on a ship! We were AT SEA! The men who were well enough during the trip made themselves useful, and the captain showed me how they navigate with the use of instruments._

_SCIENCE IS MARVELOUS!_

_We also learned several sea songs (mostly Storjordi, but some were from Fladd). Master Anton was very diligent, and wrote down the scores, although a lot of the words are improvised, and often very rude. In fact, it seems that some are so vulgar, I was not told what they meant. But I found out, and they are RUDE indeed!_

_How undignified an Empress you have, My Love. But, even if you forbade it, I would still look after my guards, because they are Our Men, and I would still learn rude and vulgar sea songs, because I wanted to._

_So, we finally arrived at Fladd and I had to start writing this short message now that we have arrived and we are at our lodgings (the house of the Ambassador of Bosilke for me, Irina, my staff and officers, and a hotel next to it for my Guards) and we are getting ready for an early evening. Even those who share my enthusiasm for the sea are not willing to go drinking immediately after a journey._

_I will continue this later, after dinner._

_My Love, I miss you so…._

_25th of Spring, evening_

_After dinner, I went for a little walk with Oleg and… Oh, My Love, Fladd is so beautiful! The different neighbourhoods are divided by canals and people travel more by barges than by carriage or on foot. The street lamps were lit and the light was reflected on the waters of the canals, trembling and delicate like a maiden at her first summer fair. I can’t wait to see it by day time._

_Also, Oleg made people stop and stare, but I am certain they would stop at even greater amazement had they known what a good and gentle and patient companion he is. Husband, thank you so much for giving him to me._

_Your loving Husband,_

_Your Elik_

&*&*

_Fladd, 27th of Spring,_

_My Husband,_

_How strange it is to call you that when I don’t know where we stand. Forgive me that I do. I don’t know what else to call you. I love you so much, and thinking you are mine, brings me so much joy. And since I can call you My Husband until you say that I am not, I will call you thus, and find my pleasure in this little thing._

_Fladd continues to amaze me. This afternoon, after lunch, we went to see a lecture on anatomy. Do you know what they have done? They have built a special theatre just for that – a medical theatre! It is small and round, and the spectators sit on the stepped platform that surrounds the stage. There are tall parapets in front of the sits, and for good reason._

_After we paid an entrance fee, we were allowed in the theatre where we took our seats at the top, together with the other people, since we were not professionals, and I am just a count, after all. Doctors and medical students were at the front, some even standing next to the Lecturer, Dr Visser from the Guild of Surgeons._

_When we were all in, and standing quite close to each other (which was pretty disgusting, honesty – most people don’t have running water here either! And they use perfume to cover their natural scents, which are not always very pleasant), they brought in the corpse. It was that of a criminal who had been hanged earlier for his crimes._

_As the merchant at the row behind me said, “Even men who lived badly can do good with their deaths.”_

_A doctor then started cutting open the body, and I saw the reason for the parapets. A couple of people fainted at the sight. How nice must it be to have never seen death to find this shocking and frightening._

_Once the body was open, Dr Visser started showing us the human body FROM THE INSIDE! I had seen organs before, but it was so different to see them clearly, without blood pumping everywhere and obscuring your sight as you hurry to remove bullets or sew wounds. And he explained everything so clearly, lifting each organ up so we could see it well._

_I was so impressed after the lecture that I couldn’t help myself. I went to talk to him for two reasons. The first was utterly selfish. During his lecture, he mentioned two glands that only have one purpose: to stimulate the male during the act of procreation. So, I really wanted to know more about them, and the Doctor indulged me after Count Sherafimof introduced me to him._

_Sometimes I think that our Ambassadors do little to hide my true identify from the people I meet…._

_But I really didn’t mind it this time, because I was so happy to meet Dr Visser. He showed me the location of that organ and…. Husband, I think it’s **that**!!! That place inside me that burns when you press in a certain way, or you caress me there… it corresponds to the location of those little glands! Dr Visser gave me a little lecture on them, since he has a theory about them that does not agree to what other surgeons say about them. They say that they hold semen for a period, until it is ready to be expelled through the male organ, but Dr Visser believes that they are there so that the sexual humour can be stored. With stimulation, that spreads to the male body, inducing the male to procreate._

_Well… I do not have the knowledge to judge either theory, but I know that when you stimulate those glands, it feels really good and it does make me eager to spend my seed in whatever part of you I can and you wish._

_Dr Visser also said that the diffusion of the sexual humour after the stimulation of these glands (that are called ‘prostates’) happens regardless of whether the person has sexual desire for their partner. Yes, I ASKED! He said that males, by their nature, are sensitive to stimulation, and as proof to it, he showed me again the body of the dissected criminal. Dr Visser doesn’t know why, but he has noticed it over and over. Hanged criminals are often found with ejaculate on them, as if the act of hanging induces the sexual humour to be diffused to the body, making them ejaculate. Surely, they did not feel sexual attraction to the noose, he said, and I have to agree. Who would?_

_What I am trying to write is, Husband, I am so, so happy right now, because now I KNOW that it’s not my fault that I like being touched. My body was made to enjoy being stimulated, and I can’t help it if it likes it, even when I don’t. It’s not me. It’s my body. And it’s EVERY MAN’S body that is so sensitive and easily excitable. Not just mine._

_ISN’T SCIENCE MARVELLOUS?_

_And, then, since I was SO IMPRESSED by his clear explanation during the lecture, I asked him to show me how he cuts a body, and then how he sews it back. After that demonstration, (please, don’t be mad at me, especially if I am not Your Husband by the time you receive this), I decided to hire him. I had to promise him a title, and the establishment of a Guild of Surgeons, of which he would be Head, as well as a very generous salary, but, please, I beg you to honour my promise, as I am certain it will be of great benefit to Our Land._

_He really was an excellent teacher, and he has vast knowledge of the human body, but, most importantly, he can cut and sew SO WELL. His stitches were breathtakingly beautiful, neat and tight and as small as needed. Any wound that has been sewn with such stitches will heal cleanly and leave small scars. If he were to come to Our Land and teach our doctors his skills (especially our army surgeons), and shares his knowledge, I am certain that the level of competence of our doctors will be greatly raised._

_So, even if I am not Your Husband by the time you receive this, honour my promise. Please. Dr Visser is worth it._

_Your ever-faithful Husband,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. I know that you will argue that it’s easier to stitch up a corpse than a wounded, writhing man, but he really had a very steady hand. If someone were to hold down that wounded man, surely his stitches would be just as neat… Besides, most men who are wounded badly are given vodka, and so they don’t writhe that much._

_You must laugh so much with me right now; I’ve only been in a field hospital twice, and I write as if I am studying medicine, yet I WAS SO IMPRESSED by the efforts of our doctors, and I was SO DISTRESSED by the suffering of our men. The experience has stayed with me since._

_p.p.s. you’ll also think me stupid for worrying so much about the first thing I asked Dr Visser, but, Husband, I was. Not here, but back home? I was very worried that people were right about me, that I was just a whore, and wasn’t it so shameful that you had married someone like me?_

_But now I know that this is how men are made, and I’m not bad for enjoying it when people give me pleasure at your command. And I have been thinking about that too a lot, now that you are not here. That it is truly selfish of me to deny you your pleasure, just as it is very selfish of you to demand this of me. I said it before, but I have to say it here again. We have to reach a compromise when we meet again – if I am still Your Husband, and you are still Mine._

Dima opened the door. “Choir practice. Should I take that?” he asked pointing at the letter. 

“Yes.” He folded, sealed, and stamped it, handing it to Dima as he hurried out. “Have they started?”

“Not yet. But Master Anton is getting impatient.”

Elik ran after Dima downstairs. The door to the dance room they had appropriated for their practice was already open. “I’m sorry,” he shouted as he took his place to the right of the centre. “I will be useless today. My mind is on anatomy,” he confessed. 

Master Anton glared at him for a moment. “You insisted on practicing with us.”

“It’s good exercise,” he said sheepishly, making them laugh. 

“Singing is no exercise,” Ivan laughed.

“It is, for the lungs, and the throat, and the tongue,” he protested. 

“Your mind really is on anatomy,” Master Anton sighed with an amused smile. 

For the next couple of minutes, Nikita and the others tuned their instrument, as they were trying to stay quiet. When they were done, Nikita gave a signal. 

“Any preferences with what to start?” Master Anton asked him, as he always did. 

Most times Elik didn’t have any, happy to sing whatever. But this time he did. “There are four houses?”

“Someone is in a good mood,” Igor told him. 

“Yes. The lecture this afternoon was inspiring.”

Evgeni made a strange noise. “The one at the medical theatre? Where they cut up the body of the famous robber Jan the Red, who had been executed for his heinous crimes?”

Elik nodded. The one where he had stayed to talk to the doctor later. 

“Why?” Evgeni looked disgusted and horrified. He had joined him out of curiosity, but ran out the moment the lecture was over. “That was awful.”

“Not more awful than what happens at a campaign hospital. In fact, I have hired Dr Visser, as I think he can teach our doctors much. Especially those serving in the army. You didn't see his stitches.” He sighed dreamily. They really were so neat and tight. “They were beautiful.”

Evgeni grimaced, clearly not sharing his enthusiasm. 

Master Anton coughed. “If we are to perform tonight at the Court of the Prince, we must be perfect. Gentlemen, please. No more talking.” 

Elik nodded. He was certain they would have to perform. His guards were famous. He looked at them proudly. How he loved them all. This choir was the child of his mind, and his guards were his friends. How he really loved them. 

“Song on page twenty-four, for those whose mind is on anatomy,” Master Anton said sharply, making him realise he was the only one whose scorebook was still closed. He hurriedly flipped through it until he was on the right page. 

Master Anton raised his hand and the musicians started. Master Anton indicated they should start slowly, but gradually he raised the tempo. Suddenly he gestured towards them. 

“There are four houses, four houses,” their tenor section started singing together. “Where to look? They are all beautiful. Each house has a window. Where to look? They are all beautiful. Each window has a girl. Where to look? They are all beautiful.”

Master Anton nodded and the baritones joined them. “Four windows. Each with a beautiful girl. I am losing my mind. Where to look? Where to look?” 

“The first is blonde, and her eyes are blue,” Boyan sang alone as they started repeating the chorus very softly over and over. 

“The second has red hair and sings like the nightingale,” Anatoli picked up the song. 

“The third is tall, and her beauty shines like the stars,” Ignat continued. 

“The fourth is slender like a willow, and she dances with the wind,” Roman sang, the depth of his voice adding some humour to the song. 

“There are four houses, four houses,” they all sang together, “Where to look? They are all beautiful. Each house has a window. Where to look? They are all beautiful. Each window has a girl. Where to look? They are all beautiful.”

“If I look at the blonde, she turns away,” Roman started. 

“If I look at the redhair, she hides her face,” Ignat sang. 

“If I look at the tall one, she faints,” Anatoli sang, and everyone laughed. 

“If I look at the slender one,” Boyan sang and stopped.

“What? What? What does she do?” they asked. 

“She sends me a kiss,” Boyan sang. 

At Master Anton’s gesture, they started repeating the chorus as each of their main singers repeated the last lyric they had sang. When Boyan finished, they all sang the first verse. 

Master Anton shook his head when they were done. “Gennady, you came in a second too late. Ignat? What was that vibrato? And your laughter was not very natural. Gentlemen, from the top.”

Damir raised his hand. “Why don’t we have the long version so we can dance it too? Just in case.” 

“Where do you find the energy?” Master Anton sighed. He turned to Nikita, and when he nodded, grinning, he also agreed, shaking his head. “You all love showing off,” he smiled, approvingly. 

“And you love showing us off, so don’t pretend you’re any different,” Pavel stage-whispered. 

“No, that would be me,” Elik smiled, raising his hand. “I am so proud of you all. And so grateful you are with me. Thank you.”

“We’re hardly in exile,” Vasily snorted. 

“And the women have been easy wherever we’ve been,” Vanya grinned. “I’m married to my fourth wife now. Whoever came up with the idea of the short wedding must be hailed as one of the great benefactors of humankind.”

Elik chuckled. “The Bosilik have been corrupted by the Quhjani. Oh, the shame.”

“All hail the short wedding and the Quhjani pervert who invented it,” Vanya shouted, raising his hand as if he held a glass. “Hurrah.”

“What can I say?” Elik agreed. “We’re all perverts, some of us just hide it better.”

“Hurrah to all the perverts,” Vanya continued, even more loudly.

“And all the lovers,” Roman said, smiling and blushing and staring at his Stepan. The dear boy was completely tone deaf and couldn’t dance even when guided, but he refused to be away from Roman when he could be near him, and so Elik was very fond of him. He too would be near His Husband all the time, if he could. 

“And our Prince of Love,” Stepan said very quietly, staring back at Roman. They hadn’t chosen the room just for its size, though, but for its acoustics, and the sound carried easily across. 

Elik froze as all his men raised their hands in a mock toast to him. “Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah.”

He looked down, still a bit shocked that they called him that. He still didn’t know if His Husband was His Husband, or if he thought him a problem that had to be solved. Nikolaj knew well how problems such as him were meant to be solved. But he’d find out soon and then he’d stop worrying about it. 

“Gentlemen,” Master Anton called out. “If you can focus,” he raised his hand and showed them the folder he was holding, “And return to practice, then I will give you something.”

“What?” The baritones sang together, grinning. 

“What? What? What will you give us?” The rest of them joined in. 

Master Anton laughed at them. “The latest work by Master Barini.” He waved the folder at them. “Well, Gentlemen?”

Arkady nodded his head. “We will be good, Master.”

“But maybe we can start with that?” Evgeni asked pleadingly. Of all his men, he was the one who loved Nisari works the most. Especially when they were languid love songs, like those that Master Barini wrote so well.

“No.” He raised his hand. “From the top.”

&*&*

Elik knocked on the door of the Ambassador’s study, looking around as he waited for the man to tell him he could go in. The Ambassador’s house was a comfortably large townhouse, and it seemed like the Ambassador was trying to cover the walls with paintings. Was that a local or a new fashion? When there was no reply, he knocked again. 

“Go away, you wretched creature. I said I was not to be disturbed,” the Ambassador shouted from inside. 

Elik stared at the door. Oh, well. He’d just meant to give the Ambassador notice that he was back from dinner at the Palace and was about to leave again, but if the man did not want to be disturbed… He turned around and went down the steps. “I’m off,” he told the Ambassador’s head servants, a married couple in their fifties. “I’m sorry I will be keeping you up tonight,” he said as he handed them a small silk pouch with coins. “I’ll try not to come back at dawn.”

Vasily snorted. 

“I’ll try,” he said honestly. 

The man opened the door for them. “Have a nice evening, Your Excellencies.”

“Thank you.” He smiled the moment he was out. “How fortunate we are. The weather is so mild. At home the air can be brisk at night this month.” He waved at his men, who were all waiting for them outside their hotel, and they waved back. 

“Who’s ready to party?” Elik shouted. 

“We are,” they shouted back. 

“Heya,” he laughed, waving again. 

As he expected, the noise drew their Ambassador out. The man appeared at the window, frowning. “Good night, Your Excellency,” he shouted at him. “Vasily, lead on.”

With a wide grin, Vasily pointed towards the side street. 

“Hey, ho. Where’s my boat?” he laughed, half-singing. 

“You’re being …”

“Annoying? I’m trying.”

Vasily stared at him hard. “Are you drunk?”

“No, of course not. I was just trying to notify the Ambassador that I was going out.” But the man had not listened to him. He deserved to be disturbed a little. 

Vasily shook his head, giving up for a moment. “There we are,” he said. 

Four barges were waiting for them at the mooring by the river’s bank, one after the other. They were not like the royal barge at Deep Port, a delicate thing that looked like a royal carriage placed on top of a boat, but they were wider and without any decoration. A passengers’ cabin in the middle took up perhaps one-third of the barge, but the night was so pleasant that he doubted anyone would prefer sitting inside. Lamps in glass holders cast a warm glow and dispelled the darkness. 

He hopped on the first one, climbed on the roof of the cabin and raised his hand, gesturing them to silence. “This is our party, Gentlemen. We stop where we want, we drink what we want.”

“And we fuck whoever want us,” Maxim shouted.

Everyone burst into laughter. 

“Hurrah to His Majesty’s Special Guards, the most gallant corps of the imperial army,” Elik raised his hand in a mock toast.

“Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah.” 

Elik gestured for them to get in the barges and waited as they moved. 

Vasily climbed up and sat on the cabin’s roof. “Are you sure you are not drunk?” he asked him quietly once again. 

“I’m happy and sad at the same time,” he admitted. “Vasily,” he sighed. “I burn with love.”

Vasily snorted. “When don’t you?” he asked with good-natured amusement. 

That was true. How he missed His Husband. “You must be so tired of hearing this from me…” He sat down facing Vasily. “May I ask you something? I’m sorry, it is a personal question.”  
“Please.”

“Do you have someone back home? I’ve never seen you…” he bit his lips. “With anyone.”

Vasily nodded. 

“I’m sorry I took you away from them.”

Vasily snorted. “Your Majesty, if I wanted to stay home, I could have done it. No one forced me,” he gestured towards the men still climbing on the barges, “or them. My Husband understands. For both of us, duty comes first.”

Elik nodded, feeling bad about the situation. He had dragged all these men with him. “Yes, duty. I know that word well.” 

“I’ve always wanted to travel,” Vasily smiled. “That’s why I joined the army. And the more I travelled, the more I saw that there’s no difference between us and them. Bosilik and people from the other territories. Conquerors and conquered.” Vasily lowered his voice even more, as if they could spied upon. “And then you wrote a song about our great land united under His Majesty’s banner to the tune of a Quhjani call to freedom.” Vasily laughed. “It was a good start.”

He froze. That was still something he didn’t like discussing and made him feel more than embarrassed; it made him feel shame. “Are you making fun of me?”

“I’m saying that you inspire His Majesty make our dream come true. And you share our dream, so where else would we be but here, protecting our common dream?” 

Their barge started moving slowly. 

“We have to be united or the West will devour us,” Vasily continued seriously. “His Majesty knows it too, and now, more than ever, I am certain of that.” He suddenly grinned. “And I love seeing new things. Every day is full of marvelous things.”

Elik leaned forward. His guards were courteous and incredibly talented in the arts of playing music, singing and dancing, but they could also remember palace layouts after walking in them once, recreate guards’ shifts, never got lost in any town or city they were in, and they could get anywhere. No lock or guard could deter them when they wanted to go into a room. “You really are spies, aren’t you? All of you?” he asked as quietly as he could. 

Vasily sprang up. “By the river, by the fast-flowing river,” he started singing loudly, his voice rising easily above the slight noise of the barge, the wind, and of his men chatting. Vasily rarely practiced with them and never sang at their performances, since he had too many other duties. When he chose to sing it was such a treat to hear his warm baritone with its lyrical rich timbre. “A young man walked.”

“By the river, by the fast-flowing river,” the others picked up the song. 

Elik watched them. Perhaps they really were spies, but they were His Majesty’s spies, protecting his interests. And they thought he was their friend, the way he thought of them as his. How wonderful it was to belong somewhere and to share a common dream. “His head in the clouds, his feet on the earth,” he added his voice to theirs. “His sweetheart’s ribbon in his hands.”

Leonid made a gesture as if he were drinking, and then pointed at a tavern to their left. He nodded and the barge started mooring slowly. 

The night had just begun and he was still burning with love. How sad and how wonderful. 

&*&*

_Fladd, 28th of Spring,_

_My Heart, My Love, My Husband,_

_How are you? I am well._

_I don’t know what to write to you. Not for any other reason, but you know what day today is, and… since for you and my Guards it is bad luck to celebrate it, I will not do anything different than what I do on any other day._

_But I can’t stop thinking about it._

_Last year you had me convinced you had forgotten it, you know. I had forgotten you don’t celebrate anything before three years have passed. Why is that?_

_I’m sorry, I am in a strange mood. I miss you so much today, that I am in pain. I don’t even want to get out of bed, and go to my morning practice. But if I don’t get up and join my Guards, they will be worried._

_You know, I think that that first party we had at Sekjraljie, which was our first stop after Jedlowa, was not because the men were excited about our journey, but because I was unhappy, and they wanted to cheer me up. That time feels so distant now, the Empire so far away…_

_Husband, I wish you could be here. Jedlowa is old-fashioned compared to the capital, but even the capital seems backward compared to the cities in the West. The buildings are taller and bigger, the streets wider, and even merchants dress like nobles. There are theatres and coffee houses and parks. If you allow me to come back, will you let me institute a committee to come up with ways to make our fair and beautiful Land better?_

_My watch tells me that I am already late for morning practice, so I must end this now, and start my day: have my morning practice, breakfast, and walk Oleg around so I can see more of the city. Then coffee, art, afternoon practice, dinner, p ~~arty. That’s all I do every day. I love it and~~ yet… how I wish I were home. Especially today. If I were home, I dare think th ~~at you hold me and…~~_

_Oh, Husband, what did I just write? Dima and Peter just came up to check if I am well and they startled me. I’m lucky I didn’t spill the ink all over the bed, and that the worst that happened was that my quill slipped as I was writing._

_So, I must stop and start my day._

_No, one more thing. I will be staying at Fladd for one more week, then I will cross the sea to go to Aedley. They told me that if I am interested in theatre and opera, that is the place to go. Husband, I am SO GRATEFUL that in your wisdom you procured so many passes for us for our journey. Thank you so much!_

_Tomorrow, though, we will leave for the city of Osterr. There is a factory there that produces PORCELAIN. I want to see that! If we could produce porcelain, then we would not have to import it from the Bright Empire. Or, maybe we could – the Empress sent us the most beautiful tea set on the occasion of our wedding, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if porcelain was so cheap that everyone could afford it? Here, they decorate their cups and plates with scenes from daily life, so we could do the same… or maybe have them decorated with flowers from the different parts of the empire?_

_Also? We can travel to Osterr by boat!!! The cities here are linked by CANALS, as well as roads, and the canals are wider than the canals at Deep Port. They have special boats that can take up to thirty passengers and can be drawn by horse, if need be. I am so EXCITED!_

_I don’t know if I am more excited about the trip or seeing the porcelain factory._

_Your husband who misses you so much,_

_Your Elik_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I once saw a tall ship with sailors singing on the mast. It was JUST SO MARVELOUS! so I had to write that in. sorry...:)


	19. Chapter 19

Nikolaj looked at his calendar. The 28th of Spring. How he wished his Elik were there. It was bad luck to even think it but, if his darling were there, he would have done something to NOT celebrate their two years of marriage. For, he was certain, meeting Elik had been good luck for him (and he dared think for Elik too). Perhaps the romances were right in one thing: some people were meant to be together. 

For what other explanation could be for his darling’s comments for the sea? Even without taking part in meetings (or seemingly having no active interest in politics), his darling had taken a look at the sea and grasped its importance for their Empire immediately. He’d even written about the two seas that would open their Empire to the world as if he’d read his mind, and known which areas he would love to attack next. 

Not that he would. The war with Oerestand the year before hadn’t been of any benefit to his treasury, and had caused serious casualties. When King George asked for a peace treaty, instead of trying to press forward, he’d agreed to it. His army had managed to take a strategically important area, yet his men had not been in a position to continue fighting. He had made a grand spectacle of his victory, and even took a war-bride as if he’d conquered the whole of Oerestand, but he knew it. That victory was not complete, peace was fragile, and it would be best to wait a while before he attempted another campaign. 

Better yet might be to abstain from any other campaigns and focus his efforts in making his Empire a land that could stand side by side with the great countries of the West. Unlike those countries that had been unified two or three hundred years earlier, his Empire was composed of old and new territories, some added as recently as in the last ten years. The plans to integrate new and old nobility had only started to be implemented, and only in the Book of Purple did noble families of the new territories and the old Empire appear side-by-side. His army did not represent this new empire of his either, but was partly composed of foreigners who’d come to the Empire first as mercenaries, and then stayed.

The unfortunate event of the 5th had also brought into sharp relief another way that his Empire different from these countries in the West. Their Empire still had slaves, just like their   
neighbours in the East and the South. 

Slavery was a problem that had to be solved, if he wanted his Empire to truly compete with the West, where all the ‘marvellous things’ were. The more he thought about it as he was going over his darling’s bill, and was looking for his books (for which he now had a team of scholars comb the Imperial Library at Ivanhof, and The Great Library at the capital), the more he could understand why it was a problem. What was worse, he had started to see that it was not just a matter of increasing taxes or adding new recruits. It was also an immoral practice. 

He shuddered, thinking again of Kove. That poor man had come to Court probably knowing only a few words, but no one had bothered teaching him their language. Why should they spend time on a slave? And his sweet darling, who knew so many things and had such strong opinions, how he had tried to please him at first, because he knew that the lives of his family, his dependents, and the people of Quhjan depended on his good behaviour. 

The more he thought about his darling’s letter, the more he was certain that when his love had written ‘I submitted to you because I was your slave’, what he meant was ‘I didn’t love you from the start.’ If he were honest, it was a small blow to his ego. His past lovers had all sworn they had fallen in love with him from the moment they had seen him, and why shouldn’t they? He was an attractive and powerful man. He was handsome, he was tall, he was strong, and, he was an Emperor. Only the fact that his darling fell in love with him afterwards had soothed his wounded ego. 

But that wound had left a scar; he’d never thought of himself as someone who forced others, his performance during the ritual of sealing his conquests through marriage to a war-bride the only exception. Yet, the way he’d treated Kove, his darling’s words, and the way people at the palace had treated both his love and Kove, had made him realise how easy it was to become a monster. 

And, just as importantly, how could anyone think that someone like his Most Wonderful Darling could be a slave? How could anyone be a slave? Nor was it right that, because of Luck, one could have absolute power of life and death over someone as Wonderful as his darling. Or anyone else. But mostly, someone as Beautiful and Clever as his darling (even though his darling could be Occasionally Naïve and Stupid but, once Nikolaj’s anger at his stupidity passed, that only added to his charm). 

Still, if there were no slaves, how could there be nobles? And if there were no slaves, how could he hold the nobles? He won wars and gave his nobles slaves. The nobles were happy and gave him men for his army, so he could win more wars. That was the way all Emperors acted; not just him – and even though he’d tried to be an Emperor of Peace, Oerestand had attacked and dragged him in war, thus restarting the dance between his and his nobles and the poor souls who were unlucky. They were all trapped. 

Perhaps the slavery problem in his Empire was too big for him. Perhaps it would be solved by one of his successors. He still had to try, though. 

How he wished for his darling. Two heads were always better than one. Besides, he had this impression that his darling would thrive as the unofficial head of a committee studying the slavery problem. He could let him work on that, while he did something else. 

He glanced at his favourite drawing of his darling. His sister-in-law was frightening, but she was also frightfully talented. There was something about that image of Elik laughing as he hugged Oleg that appealed to him so much that he had had it framed and placed on his desk. He knew it was undignified for an Emperor’s study, and once his darling was back, he’d have him pose for a portrait that was appropriate, but at that point, he really didn’t care. It made him feel like his love was there, amused at whatever was troubling him, and telling him not to worry, they’d figure it out. 

Even though, in reality, it was usually him who was amused at whatever worried his darling, and told him not to worry. His love took everything so seriously. 

How he missed him. 

The knock on the study door made him look away. 

“The Ambassador of the Bright Empire is here and has requested a private audience,” Count Njedzic told him. 

“Fine, We grant his request.” 

His secretary nodded and the Ambassador walked in, followed by Mark. He bade them sit and studied the Ambassador. The man was following the Bright Empire’s fashion: he was clean-shaven, had his long hair pulled back in a tight braid, and was wearing court costume, made of a deep blue silk. Austere and lavish at the same time, every time he saw the Ambassador in it, it made him wonder about the riches of the Bright Empire. 

His long hair always reminded him of that elaborate way they had styled his darling’s hair for their very first wedding. He’d been slightly disappointed to discover that his darling’s hair was not that long in reality, but that they had used extensions to make it look so voluminous. After that little displeasure, though, he’d found that his darling had many other charms. But he did wonder every time he saw the Ambassador; what would his darling be like, if he let his hair grow as long as his? 

Mark coughed, and he grinned, embarrassed to have been caught day-dreaming about his Husband. “We are happy to welcome you back to Court. How is Our Imperial Brother? We hope he is well.”

“Our Imperial Majesty is in excellent health and sends his greetings to Your Imperial Majesty, as well as his wishes for your good health.”

“We are well and thank him for his wishes.” He smiled even more pleasantly. “Do you have his reply to Our request?”

“Indeed, and I am happy you have granted me this audience so that I can give you his positive reply.”

He glanced at Mark, who was still studying the Ambassador. “If his reply is positive, why did you ask for this audience? What are his conditions, and how unpleasant are they?”

The Ambassador’s carefully blank expression did not change at the slight accusation. “They are not unpleasant, Your Majesty. His Majesty is happy to agree on the renewal of the peace treaty between our two empires. In order to create everlasting ties of peace, he would like to offer you the hand of his niece, Her Imperial Highness, Princess,” he said her name in his language, and Nikolaj didn’t even try to figure out what it was, “in marriage.”

“I am already married,” he replied immediately. 

“To a man,” the Ambassador said with the tiniest of smiles. “His Majesty believes that an Imperial Princess would make a much better Empress than a man. Your Majesty, this is a great honour; no Imperial Princess has been married outside the Bright Empire in years, and, as a sign of how highly he holds you in his esteem, His Majesty will give the province of Taya as Her Highness’ dowry.”

He glanced at Mark again. Taya would expand their land further east, and his people of Tayan origin would stop trying to break free and join the Bright Empire. He looked at the folder in the Ambassador’s hand. “These are the conditions? And details of the proposal?

The Ambassador stood up and gave him the folder. “Please, consider it.”

“Thank you.” He nodded, dismissing him. Then he turned to Mark. “I’m not divorcing my Husband. Don’t even think of arguing against my decision.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“I saw your expression.”

“I was just going to say that he’s giving you Taya.”

“And a princess to go with it. No. And don’t you dare write to Him about it. He is capable of divorcing me for the Good of the Empire.” 

Mark snorted. “He is,” he agreed. “But it would be…”

He hit the folder with the side of his hand. “No. I will study his terms and conditions out of curiosity, but I will not renounce my darling for an alliance.” 

Mark’s expression softened. “As you wish.”

“I do wish it. Ah, I wish he were here already.”

Mark stood up. “Why don’t we go to the Shrine of Ancestral Honour to offer thanks that you have such a Husband who’s worth rejecting alliances?”

“Are you making fun of me?” he asked narrowing his eyes. 

“No. But maybe if we offer thanks, the Honoured Ancestors will help you find a solution to this problem.”

He stood up, smiling. It was bad luck to celebrate his two-year anniversary, but not to offer thanks that Luck had brought his wonderful Husband to him. He went to his library and took out the folder with the drawings that his sister-in-law had been sending him. “Did I show you these?” 

He took out the one with Elik at the beach and put it on the desk. It was his second favourite. How he wanted to touch Elik’s figure, but was afraid to damage the drawing. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Mark studied it. “The landscape seems more important than the man.”

“It looks untamed. But doesn’t he look like someone who could tame it?” His darling was a small figure compared to the world around him, but how proudly he stood, how tense, how ready he was for any challenge this strange world would throw at him. He sighed dreamily. “I wish I had been there with him.”

“Why don’t you have the Royal Painter make a painting where you both look at the sea?” He snorted. “People use art to lie and rewrite history as it suits them all the time.”

“I would know the truth, and so would He.” He grinned. “But I can have the Royal Painting make a painting out of this.”

Mark studied it. “Is the sea really so grey where it meets the sky? You can’t tell where one ends and where the other starts.”

He shrugged. “How would I know? I’ve never seen it. Even at Oerestand. The sea was beyond our reach, all the time. And the North is too cold. I am not going there for sight-seeing.” He chuckled. He suddenly had the thought that his darling wouldn’t care about how cold and inhospitable the North was. He’d go there just to see THE SEA. 

He glanced at the drawing again. How he missed his strange, proud darling. “Let’s go offer thanks, Mark. You let all the Court know while I go change. We will all go.” 

And maybe, if all his court offered thanks, then his Honoured Ancestors would favour him and show him the way forward.

&*&*

He glanced at his courtiers gathered and waiting for him at the courtyard. With a brisk nod to them, he climbed on his carriage and then gestured for Lady Ekaterina to join him, letting Mark ride in the carriage behind his alone. 

She sat facing him, but looking down. 

“We are still displeased,” he told her. 

She nodded. “I know, and I am really sorry, Your Majesty. Had I realised that he meant it when he complained about haters, and was not being…” She stopped and stared at him. “Really, Nikolaj,” she begged him. “Must you continue punishing me? How many times must I say I am sorry?”

“As many as it pleases Us.”

She looked down again.

Nikolaj rubbed his eyes. “You’re right,” he told her tiredly. “You have apologised enough.” She looked up with a hopeful expression. “But there will be no Ladies’ Court, nor any entertainments.”

“That’s not fair at all,” she cried out. “Mark says that Our Empress is partying all night, every night. Why are we not allowed?”

“Because you and the Ladies are being punished.”

“And he’s in self-exile,” she countered immediately. 

“Only because the Ladies drove him away.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared out. “No.”

“Your Majesty,” she whined. 

“That won’t work with me,” he told her with a smile. “Nor that,” he added when she pouted. 

She sighed. 

“How are the Ladies?”

“Miserable.”

“Good.”

“You are very cruel, Your Majesty.” 

He snorted. If Lady Ekaterina thought him cruel at that point, what would she think when he finally had the convictions he was waiting for?

“Your Majesty, you must let go of your displeasure. We have all suffered enough.”

“What suffering? You are at your homes, with your husbands and your lovers. My poor darling is dancing all night to forget his misery at our separation.”

She chuckled. “I’m certain that’s a very effective way of forgetting his misery.”

He grinned. “It sounded even stupider when I said it than when I thought it,” he said and started laughing. “Ah,” he sighed as he stopped, “my poor darling. Why couldn’t you see that he was miserable?”

Lady Ekaterina stared at him curiously. “Because he wasn’t. He had fun in the evenings, and even more fun when he forced us to study and then discuss whatever we had read. The only time he was miserable was after General Ivanof’s coup.”

He sighed. How could he ask her why she hadn’t noticed, when he too hadn’t seen it? “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He leaned back and looked outside. “You may tell the Ladies that they are allowed at dinner from now on.” Having dinner with just his courtiers had started becoming boring. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He continued looking outside and she, wisely, stayed quiet. Before he knew it, the gently rolling hills covered in wildflowers gave way to the first buildings of the Capital. Did his darling miss spring in the Capital? He hadn’t even noticed the change of the seasons, even though he had noticed that his clothes had started getting lighter, and he was out of furs. Where did time go? 

They entered through the main thoroughfare. Nikolaj noticed how the people stopped and stared and he dutifully waved at them, but they didn’t cheer him on. How funny this was; he was displeased at the Ladies, and the common folk were displeased with him. 

Soon they were in front of the Shrine of Ancestral Honour. His guards moved around the building and his carriage stopped right outside the stepped entrance. Nikolaj got out and helped Lady Ekaterina climb down. Then, he handed her over to Mark and climbed the stairs leading into the shrine, the courtiers following in a long file behind him. 

As always, he felt proud to be under the gaze of his ancestors. This place was the pride of his family; this was their honour. He was only a link to a chain that went back for generations and, if Luck would have it, he would pass on their pride to his heirs. How, he had no idea. Perhaps his ancestors would know and reveal it to him? 

He walked to the end of the main aisle and a Shrine servant came to greet him, a golden tray with incense in his hands. Nikolaj took it and sprinkled it on the altar. Its heady scent filled his nostrils immediately as the incense burned with a slight crackling sound. “We thank You, Honoured Ancestors,” he whispered. “You brought Our One and Only to Us. Thank you for Your Blessing.”

Then he walked down to the crypt alone. The Shrine was always slightly chilly, but down there, he felt the cold. How fitting a place it was for the bodies of the dead, cold and dark, with only the light from a few torches to guide him. He had never liked it much. 

He passed the tombs of his distant ancestors and stopped in front of the tomb holding the bodies of his parents. Like several others of the tombs, it was carved from marble, and it was in the shape of a coffin. When was the last time he had come to see them? 

He reached and touched the cold marble. He knew that rejecting the Bright Princess was stupid. But rejecting his love was unimaginable. He stepped closer and let his head rest on the tomb. “I miss him so much,” he whispered. “Please.”

With a sigh, he stepped back. He wasn’t sure what he was asking, but he was certain his parents would know what was in his heart, and, kind parents that they were, they would answer him.

He bowed to their tomb, and walked back up. He watched until all his courtiers had sprinkled incense and thanks his ancestors for blessing him with his Most Wonderful Spouse and Consort. Which one of them had tried to hurt his darling? 

Surely his Honoured Ancestors would not accept the thank-offerings of liars, and would reveal the traitors. And if Honoured Ancestors didn’t, then Ilya and Artemy certainly would. He smiled. 

When they were all finished, he stepped from behind the pillar he was, and slowly walked to the altar again. He sprinkled more incense, bowed slightly and started walking out. 

For a moment, the sun blinded him when he walked out of the perpetually dim building. When he could see again, he saw that people, a lot of people, had gathered around the Shrine, just past his guards. He raised his hand and waved at them. They looked at him silently. 

Nikolaj shivered. He felt they were accusing him, staring at him with narrowed, angry eyes. 

“Bring back the Empress,” someone shouted. 

“We want the Empress,” another added. 

Even three months after his departure, his darling held the common folk in his hand. What a danger his darling could become. He stood still, waiting for them to stop. Instead, they kept chanting that they wanted their Empress back. The captain of his guard turned and looked at him. 

Someone threw a stone at him and it hit him on the arm. 

“Allow me to disperse them,” the captain shouted over the noise. His guards turned slightly their horses towards the crowd.

Nikolaj raised his hand. “Stop,” he called out to his guards.

They stopped, but so did the common folk. 

Nikolaj stared at them. What would his darling do? Something outrageous and not befitting his imperial dignity, no doubt. Would he manage? “Do you think you are the only ones who want him back?” he shouted at them as he unbuttoned his coat. “We hold Our Empress in Our heart,” he said, touching the swan that rested over his heart for a moment and removing his hand, so that everyone could see the little white jewel shining on his dark brown, plain coat. "And We want him back as much, no, more than you do.”

The common folk stayed silent, but he could see their expression changing from angry to sympathetic. He could feel their mood changing. 

He pointed back, towards the entrance to the shrine, where his courtiers were gathered. “Our Honoured Ancestors know Our devotion to Our Empress, and they will bring him back to us. They will dispel the darkness, and reveal the truth.” He couldn’t help himself. He glared at his courtiers, imagining their heads on the chopping block. He turned to the people. “This I vow to you. Our Empress will be back.”

They still stared at him. Hadn’t he been outrageous enough already? Well, he’d have to be even more outrageous, then. “Today, We came here to offer thanks to Our Honoured Ancestors and to Our Luck for bringing Us Our One and Only Empress, and to ask them to bring him home to Us. We have missed him so,” he sighed. 

“You share Our love and respect for Our Empress,” he said more loudly. “Come, offer your thanks,” he said and heard them murmur. No one was allowed in the Shrine without an invitation when the Emperor was there, and none of the poor, common folk had ever even invited. None of the workers or the sellers or the beggars that he could see gathered around the shrine, together with the more respectable and wealthier townspeople. He hoped that was outrageous enough, for he would not break protocol again that day. He gestured to the guards to let them through. His guards opened a path, but no one moved. “Ask Our Honoured Ancestors to light the way home for Our Empress.”

He stepped aside and gestured again for them to approach. This time, an old woman took a cautious step forward, and when she realised that no one was stopping her, she continued. His darling would probably go and help her up the stairs, but he was not that outrageous. A young boy darted out from the crowd and took the woman’s arm. 

Nikolaj stayed still as the two climbed up the stairs slowly. When she was beside him, he decided that he could be a little more outrageous after all. “Come, Mother,” he told her as he offered her his arm to hold on. “Let us offer thanks together.”

His courtiers spread out so they could walk back inside. He heard more people walk up, and smiled. Perhaps if Everyone asked his Honoured Ancestors to help him get his darling back, his darling would return sooner. How he had missed him.


	20. Chapter 20

_Deep Port, 18th of Spring, evening_

_My Heart, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you?_

_This morning, the King allowed us to use his theatre for our practice. My Love, my Guards usually perform in palaces or (when we were at the Empire) in open air, but practicing and singing in a purpose-built THEATRE was an experience that…. How can I describe it? The difference is like that between a first sketch and a full painting, or… maybe it is like reading about the sea, and then finally seeing it. Reading does not prepare you for the smell, for the noise, for the colour, for the feel, for the taste._

_Husband, I so wish you could see THE SEA with me._

_To go back to the theatre – the acoustics were amazing. The Theatre’s director did not know how they were achieved, since his work is to find their next productions and manage accounts, but he arranged for me to meet the architect who designed it tomorrow._

_My Love, it was such a powerful and moving experience to have the full choir perform in one stage. THE FULL CHOIR, All hundred of them! Not the ten singers, six dancer-singers, and the five musicians that accompany me at palace dinners, but all of them, since you know how equally talented they all are at singing and it was such a rare opportunity to hear them all at the same time in the THEATRE! Husband, when they sang our song, I cried, because I had never heard it sound so beautifully._

_And this evening, after dinner, there was an opera performance. It was my first time seeing an opera, and I was SO WONDERFUL! How different it was to see and hear an opera in the theatre as opposed to reading the score. And, opera is something my Guards will never perform, so the experience was even sweeter._

_Husband, I would like to have a theatre when I am back. A big one, so that we can have plays and operas. Worry not, I will find a good architect for it! No, I will find the best!_

_And now Vasily is looking at me as if to say, enough with the writing, it is TIME! Oh, Husband, I was so excited about the opera that I could not wait until I was back to our shipyard ‘home’ to write to you. I am writing to you from the tavern, and this is the reason for using this plain paper and pencil. I did not rent all the taverns in the Royal Harbor district after all, but we did come here, since the area is so lively, and lovely. Because there are local people here, there is no space big enough for all of us, and we are mostly out in the street, but it is such an exceptionally warm night tonight…_

_I must leave you now. It is time to go out and serenade the King. Because, you know what happened at the opera? No, how could you know, so I will tell you! Before it started, the lead singer came out and sang a love song. To me! He stared directly at me, raised his hand to point at me, and addressed me as ‘The Swan of the North’! When he was finished, the King (I was invited to sit at his box, and I could not refuse him) said that it expressed his feelings. I turned speechless and who knows how I looked at that moment, because then he started laughing and said it was all a joke, played because he wanted to see what I would do, and that he liked my shocked expression. He continued, that since I did not get shocked over seeing naked men and women or his bad manners – like his other guests – he had to find something else to shock me, and he was so delighted this worked!_

_So, I decided that if he sings a love song to me with ONE man, then I will sing to him a love song with ALL my men._

_Husband, even though I am having so much fun, I will be leaving Deep Port tomorrow. Who knows what joke your Royal Brother will play on me next…. Worse, who knows what joke I will have to play on him afterwards…. Surely one shouldn’t let this war escalate, so after scoring this victory, I will leave._

_And now I really must go._

_Your very loving Husband,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. I couldn’t help myself. I hired a few men who will make a boat for us back home. They will be traveling back to the Empire as soon as they can sort out their affairs at Deep Port_

Nikolaj reread the latter one more time, and, even at the second read it made him laugh. Ah, but how happy he was that his easily-shocked and often-turned-speechless and altogether-far-too-serious darling was having fun. 

Not for the first time he wondered what theatre was. Clearly, it was a building constructed specifically for entertainment, but so was their Great Hall. What was so special about theatre? And his darling had used the same word to describe some of the entertainments that took place there. These, he was curious to see. Anything that got his darling so excited, he was curious to see. 

And he was even more curious to see what _opera_ was. There was music involved, since his darling had mentioned ‘score’, so why couldn’t the Guards perform it? There was something his darling would not let the Guards perform? Or was it a form of entertainment that was so inappropriate that even his love could not allow it? He was really curious about _opera_. 

He was also curious to see the craftsmen his darling had hired, and the boat they would build for them. How modest was his love, compared to his father. He’d have to ask the craftsmen if they could build a boat suitable for their imperial dignities. A ship as big as his father's would do. 

He took a piece of paper and started replying.

_Ivanhof, 4th of Sweet Month,_

_My Absolutely Wonderful Husband,_

_How are you? Still enjoying yourself?_

_I was delighted to read about your seren_

The knock on his door stopped him. He looked up as Count Njedzic entered his study and gave him a closed letter. “Urgent message from Oerestand,” he said as he put it down.< /p>

Nikolaj hastily opened it and read it quickly. Then, he grinned. “Call a Council meeting now.”

With a bow his secretary left him alone. 

He glanced at his darling’s letter. He had promised him, hadn’t he? And the inquest was still ongoing. But… he read the message of his Oerestand ambassador again. 

“Darling, I hope you’ve had enough fun so far, because now I need you,” he said softly staring at his favourite drawing. Ah, how he needed him. He scribbled his planned route, and then left his study, almost running to the Council Room, the report from Oerestand still in his hand.

Nikolaj stormed into the room, and found his ministers there, waiting for him. He smiled at seeing how they all wore a little swan jewel. Mark and he had joked about it, but he was quite pleased to see that, if he were honest. Perhaps the only reason they hadn’t done it earlier was because they were waiting for the jewels to be made. 

“Gentlemen,” he greeted his ministers and bade them sit as he paced around the room. “We cannot wait anymore. Our Most Gracious Spouse and Consort has been away for too long.”

“Your Majesty, I thought you would wait until the inquest is over,” Adam said with a tiny frown. 

“At this pace, the inquest will take the rest of the year. We cannot wait.” He stopped behind Mark and looked over his shoulder at the meeting’s agenda in front of his friend. None of what was there mattered. He grinned. “We have decided. We are going to bring Our Spouse and Consort back.”

Adam wrote it down. “Should I prepare a draft for the message to His Majesty?”

He laughed. “No, no need for that. We will get Him back Ourselves.”

“What? Your Majesty,” Mark almost shouted, “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

Pavel frowned. “You are Our Emperor. No Emperor has ever left the Empire.”

“Watch me,” he said airily. “We will do it and get Our dar.. Consort back where he belongs.” He kept pacing around them. “We think that Our Most Wonderful Husband has travelled enough. It is time We get Him back and get Him to work,” Nikolaj laughed. “Did you read his decree for modernising the city of Jedlowa? Splendid piece of work. Not to mention The Unmentionable.”

Mark chuckled, and immediately raised his hand and pretended to cough. 

Nikolaj pretended he hadn’t noticed. He turned towards Dima and Adam. “You two will head a committee and study the abolition problem. My da… Consort will act as... whatever he wants to act. Unofficially. You will also figure out a taxation system that will not break the backs of Our subjects. Our sweet Consort will always err on the side of kindness, so you can adjust the taxes starting from that.”

Then it was Vassily’s turn. “He can help you finalize the reforms regarding the military. Half of them were his ideas. And,” he looked at Dima again. “He has expressed an interest in theatre. What on earth is theatre? But if Our Consort wants it, Our Consort will have it.” He smiled at them as he finally sat down. 

Mark narrowed his eyes. “What are you really planning, Your Majesty?”

His smile widened. “I just got the latest report from Oerestand. Our Brother George is seriously ill, perhaps even dying. This is Our time, Gentlemen. His heir is a child. If We do not take Oerestand and get access to the sea now, We never will.” He laughed. “And Our dear, sweet Consort has given Us the perfect excuse for traveling across the West and forging alliances against Oerestand. Gentlemen, We will come back with new allies, renewed old alliances, and Our Consort who is hard-working and can help Us make the Empire better.”

“You’re giving Your Empress a seat in the Council,” Andrej said, shocked. 

“No. But when the war against Oerestand starts, Our Consort will be Our Regent, and rule the Empire together with you.” He smiled again. “That has always been the Empress’ right and privilege to be Our Regent. Besides,” he winked, “if you keep him busy here, he will stop asking to be by Our side in the battlefield.”

Mark chuckled. “I doubt that, but we can give it a try. When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.” He smiled again as he showed them his itinerary. “This will be Our route. We will travel only with Our Guards and a small team, including Our secretary. Since We will stop only for negotiations, and then heed Our Consort’s advice about traveling by ship, We hope to be at Valentin at the same time as Our Consort.”

Mark rolled his eyes upwards for a moment. 

“We have decided, Gentlemen, and you cannot sway Us. Adam, you can write that down. Send messages to the Kings of Ustvela and Storjord that We will be visiting. Immediately. Our Royal Brother at Valentin had invited Us together with our d… Consort to attend the feast for his ten years of marriage, so, there is no need for sending them a message for permission. We already have it. Just send a message to the King that We will be arriving. Or, maybe We can do that from Storjord. Yes, We will deal with that.”

He turned to Vassily again. “Start getting the army ready. As discreetly as possible. It would be nice if we could surprise them. Meeting is over, Gentlemen. Mark, I would like to talk to you.” He gestured for Mark to follow him out and they started walking back to his office. He grinned. “You can say it.”

“So much for letting him come back whenever he wants,” he smirked.

“What can I say? I miss him,” he whispered, smiling. “Mark, you will oversee the building of our house. It has to be ready by the time we are back.”

He nodded. 

“I will give you the plans,” he continued. “They are in my office.”

“I’m curious to see what Your Majesty has designed.”

“And I’m curious to see how well it gets done,” he laughed. They walked in silence the rest of the way. 

“When you go there to get him,” Mark told him the moment they were alone in his office, “will you also want to tell him that you will reject the Bright Empire’s offer of an alliance for him?”

Nikolaj took a deep breath. He sat down and bade Mark to sit as well. “He is my One and Only, Mark. I will not separate him for a princess I have never seen. Besides, who knows what she is like. My darling? I know him. I trust him. I have faith in him, and,” he smiled again, “he’s a good man with good intentions. With the right guidance, he can do a lot of good. That’s why I want him to be Our Regent with you. I want you to teach him how to rule.”

Mark shivered. “I think you’re about to say something that is bad luck to say. Don’t.”

He snorted. “It’s not bad luck to say the truth. I have no heirs, and I don’t intend to have any before we decide together what to do. We will talk about this on the way back from Valentin, and I hope that by the time we are back, we will have solved the issue. I have made a list of all my relatives who have a claim to my throne,” he said as he handed it to Mark. “Check that I haven’t forgotten anyone, cross out anyone who is not qualified, and give it back to me by tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Also, while We are away, do not give Our answer to the ambassador of the Bright Empire. Prevaricate. I want the Ambassador to see for himself how precious and perfect Our Consort is, and tell to His Majesty that, had I not had such a peerless jewel, I would never reject his niece. I will offer him anything he wants, except for separation from my Consort.”

“Do you want the Ambassador to hear that, or Your Consort?”

“You know me too well,” he laughed. “Yes, it is for His benefit, and will serve as a warning for the court. He needs confirmation that I cherish him above all others, and everyone else needs to know as clearly as possible that he has my support. I will not allow anyone to hurt him again like those thrice-cursed dogs.” He didn’t continue that, if the issue of the succession was not resolved, and anything were to happen to him, then Elik would need to rule alone, and find a suitable successor. It was bad luck to even consider it; it would be even worse if he said it out loud. “And when he becomes my Regent, they will stop harassing him for good.”

“Are you sure about that? Last year you hadn’t trusted him with your Empire.”

He nodded. “Last year, he wasn’t ready. This year, he’s different.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I will first see for myself how he behaves and then decide how much power he will have, and if he will have a say to government matters as you, or if he will be there just to observe, learn, and sign whatever you tell him to. Mark?” he said a bit more sharply than he intended. 

“Yes?” his friend asked him cautiously.

“I meant it. When I am at the front, you must get him to work and keep him busy. He’s not stupid, and it would be a waste if we let him use his mind only for theatre and dances.” He smiled. “If he weren’t my husband, he’d earn a seat at my council at some point and under the right circumstances.”

Mark shuddered and grimaced for a second. 

“What?”

“I’m glad he’s your husband, because if you had met him as a young, eager, and studious civil servant or army officer, when you would have married him, it would have been even more scandalous than the scandal you caused by marrying your war-caught bride.”

“You exaggerate.”

Mark shook his head with a snort. “No. I believe Luck would have brought you together no matter what, and you would have married him no matter what he was.”

“You,” he groaned, “You also read romances.”

“On occasion,” Mark said calmly, and with a teasing smile.

“Hm. Tell me,” he smiled again, “are there romances that are… more exciting, that can fulfil even someone with your particular tastes? Everything in my darling’s library was very...” he grimaced, “tame. A writer would describe a kiss for two pages, but when things got more heated, he’d end the chapter.”

Mark laughed. “Ah, for that Your Majesty should look in the Forbidden Books, not the romances.”

“The what?”

“The Forbidden books. Her Imperial Majesty, The Empress Dowager had forbidden books with such subject matters and, according to her decree, they are considered seditious material. Whoever is caught writing or importing them is punished by death, whoever is found reading them is punished by flogging in public.”

He groaned. That Mother of his. “She was a wise Regent, who ruled well during Our Minority and while We were on campaigns, but how strict she was.” He picked up a paper. “Hereby,” he read out loud as he wrote, “we decree that books containing arousing material are no longer forbidden, and their possession, reading, writing or dissemination is no longer a crime punishable by law. By command of the Most Mighty and Good Sovereign of the Bosilke Empire. Does that sound good?”

“Abolitionist texts can be considered arousing for some.”

He tore the decree and started again. “How should we call them?”

“By their proper name, ‘books containing instructions for the edification of newly-married couples, and the improvement of marital relationships. These instructions may be in the form of verse, fiction, treatises, or even art, and may be explicit in nature.”

Nikolaj raised an eyebrow. “Someone has been reading Forbidden Books?”

“If someone had been reading such Forbidden Books, that someone would never admit it.”

“Hm.” He signed and stamped it with his seal. “There. Can that someone tell me more about them now that they are no longer forbidden? Or give me some?”

“Your Majesty, you are going to Valentin, where most of these books are produced. You should be bringing some back to me.”

Nikolaj laughed loudly. “Is that so? Then so I shall. I will write to Our Ambassador to start collecting some for Us.”

“I think they recently became forbidden in Valentin too,” Mark said, with a disdainful snort. 

“Really? What a shame.” He suddenly grinned. “I know who will manage to get them. My Darling’s Hundred Guards. They are the most elite corps in the army, specializing in the art of infiltrating enemy lines and penetrating deeply into the territories they encounter.” When he met them, he would order them to tell him how they had managed to get into King Hans Ulrich’s bedroom. And ask how his Royal Brother had performed. 

Mark chuckled. “That I can believe.” 

“Mark, have someone make a list of all the decrees of my Most Wonderful and Wise Mother. No, not just a list. I want the decrees themselves. All of them. Who knows, maybe she even wrote a decree that I am not allowed to marry men, and my marriage to my One and Only is not valid, only we don’t know it.” First it was the decree allowing no male husbands at court, now the one on forbidden books. Who knew what else his Most Wise Mother had decreed, especially while he had been a minor or when he had been fighting.

Mark grinned. “There is no such decree. My office looked very carefully at all the rules regarding Your Majesty’s marriage.” He sighed with relief and Mark chuckled. He stood up. “You should start getting ready and I must go back to work.” He waved the list Nikolaj had given him. “After all, I have to finish this task by tomorrow morning, and when you are back, you will find all the decrees gathered for your inspection.”

He nodded. He’d give them to his darling to go over them when they were back, and keep him busy. He really hoped that if his darling was too busy, he wouldn’t ask to be by his side at the front. He wanted his darling safe at home. “I will see you at dinner.” 

When the door closed behind his friend, he glanced at the unfinished letter in front of him, and the letter to which he was trying to reply. If he had calculated correctly, by land his answer would reach his darling later than he did (unless he took it with him and had it delivered to his darling a day before his arrival). And he wouldn’t be able to reply to any other letters he received, because, as he moved closer and closer to his darling, then so would his letters. 

How far they were from the West. How far he was from his darling. But he was going to get him, and nothing would stop him, except Luck herself. “Darling, I’m coming for you and, if Luck will have it, next year, we will have a house with a view to the sea.” He wondered if the sea was as marvellous and seductive as his darling claimed. And even if it wasn’t, he’d build a house by the sea just for his love. 

He picked up his quill again. 

_Ivanhof, 4th of Sweet Month,_

_My Absolutely Wonderful Husband,_

_How are you? Still enjoying yourself?_

_I was delighted to read about your serenade to the king. How I wish I was there to see it._

_Darling, that is all I want. To be with you. All the time. Every day and every night. Nothing else._

He looked at his letter. If Luck was not on his side, this would be the last letter he’d write to his darling. But that was bad luck to consider, so he pushed the thought aside. What could happen to him? Still, he couldn’t help himself. He decided to add one more line.

_I love you so much, Husband. If suffering from love was a contest, we’d both win. How I love you and I long for you._

_Your lovesick Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

Then he picked up another piece of paper. 

_My Most Wonderful and Brilliant Husband,_

_If you are reading this, then Luck was not with Us._

_Husband, I know You will be Good and Brave for Our Empire. The Chancellor and my other Ministers will guide You on Your journey, and You will steer Our Empire well with their help._

_Know that You have always been Beloved. From the first time I saw you, I loved you, and have never stopped. Even with Luck against me, I love you. How I love you...._

_Your ever-loving Husband,  
Your Nikolaj_

He folded it and sealed it with his personal stamp. In the morning, he'd give it to Mark with the same instructions he'd given him when he'd written that other letter before he'd left for war against Oerestand the year before. "Burn it when I am back, give it to Him if I am not."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More telling... sorry...   
> Also, I love Elik and his guards....

Stepan looked around. Roman and his friends were helping the ship’s carpenter with some small repairs, while Maxim and his friends were cleaning this side of the deck with the regular crewmen while singing a song in Fladden that had to be dirty, judging by how Maxim grinned. If he went on the other side, he was certain he’d see more of His Excellency’s guards doing small things around the ship or cleaning. 

His Excellency was leaning against the rail and, for a change, he wasn’t with his sister. Stepan looked around again, but she was nowhere to be seen. He was staring at the sea, as he usually did when he was not with the captain or the other officers, from under the silk, red parasol that he was forced to carry around since their first sea voyage. ‘An Empress can’t be tanned like a sailor,’ Count Rasoulin had said, and threatened to keep him locked inside his cabin during the trip. His Excellency had argued that he was the one with the authority to keep the Count locked, but then Vasily had asked ‘What would His Majesty think if he saw you sun-burned?’ His Excellency relented at that. It was tough being an Empress, and the idea of disturbing him worried Stepan. 

Even before he had left for the capital, His Excellency was not someone a blacksmith’s apprentice could approach. He was a member of the Council of Elders, his family was the richest of Jedlowa, and, much to the disappointment of many, including Stepan, he also had Radu keeping everyone away from him. And when he came back, he was even more unapproachable. 

At this trip too, Stepan had noticed from the start how everyone treated His Excellency informally, even calling him by his given name, but never approached him before he did, except Vasily. Vasily was different, though; he was not just a guard, he was the highest officer of all the officers with them, a Major, and he was His Excellency’s unofficial Aide, not just the commander of the Special Guards.

Roman had explained it to him: His Excellency was their friend, but he was also their Young Lord, and they had to treat him with respect and protect him at all costs. Stepan wasn’t sure that they treated him with much respect. He had noticed, though, that when their Young Lord seemed in low spirits, they were particularly disrespectful, and always managed to cheer him up. 

In his opinion, they didn’t see him as a friend, but rather as their favourite little brother, with whom they could play rough, but they could not bear to see him sad. But what did he know? He was just a blacksmith’s apprentice, recently appointed to blacksmith attached to His Imperial Majesty’s Special Guards. Hoping that Roman or the others wouldn’t pay too much attention to him, he gathered his courage and approached him. 

He coughed, since Roman had told him he should not talk first to His Excellency (no matter how often Roman and the other guards broke that rule). 

His Excellency turned and immediately smiled at him. “Stepan, what can I do for you?”

“Your Excell…”

“I have told you before, you can call me Elik, Stepan. Please, I insist.”

He nodded. “Elik, I…” Everything had made sense in his head, but now the words couldn’t come out. He wasn’t used to talking to people like His Excellency. “Next week. I want to honour our dead. Can we stop for a while so I can perform the proper rites? And will you and Lady Irina join me?” If His Excellency joined him, then it would be allowed, wouldn’t it? 

His Excellency froze. “My sister can join you, but I am not of Quhjan anymore. I can’t.”

Stepan stared at him shocked. “That is so sad,” he finally whispered. He glanced back at Roman. “Will this happen to me too? Will I too become not of Quhjan?” He shivered. 

Elik shook his head. “No. You did not marry the Emperor,” he sighed. 

“But we are not at the Empire anymore. Why can’t you… forgive me, I…”

“Hm, you are right.” He glanced at the sea. “Back at Ivanof, it would be treason to honour our dead,” he said very softly. “They don’t honour the dead there. Or defeats. Only victories. But here…” he turned and smiled at him brightly. “Stepan, we will honour them as much as we can. I will inform Count Rasoulin about this change in schedule and, when we see a suitable place, we will stop and ask them to protect us. I don’t think we should do more than that, since everyone else is Bosilik, and we shouldn’t offend them. Is that acceptable?”

Stepan nodded, smiling back. He knew that it wouldn’t be the same as back home, but this would be enough. “I should leave you,” he said.

“No, stay. If you want.”

He glanced back. He should go before they noticed him bothering His Excellency, but how he wanted to stay. Even though he loved being with Roman, he missed the sounds of home. Quhjani and Bosilik were the same language really, but the Bosilik spoke it differently. Even when Roman spoke it, it sounded harsh to him. At Jedlowa, he realised as they had crossed Quhjan to leave the Empire, they spoke their language in a particularly soft way. He couldn’t explain it better, but he missed it. 

“It’s been more than two years since I last honoured the dead. Can you remind me the rites? I don’t want to make any mistakes next week.”

Well, since His Excellency asked, he couldn’t refuse, could he? 

&*&*

“What were you talking about with our Young Lord?” Roman asked him the moment they were both lying on their hammocks below deck. 

Even though Roman had asked the question as quietly as he could, it made the others next to him stir. Igor, two hammocks away from Roman, tried to sit up and listen better, and fell down noisily. The laughter stirred the others, and Stepan knew that they would have even less privacy. 

“Nothing,” he whispered.

“You were talking for two hours,” Vanya said from the hammock next to Roman. “Is everything fine?”

“Well…” He looked at the wooden ceiling above him. He’d have to tell Roman anyway, so it wouldn’t make a difference if he did it then or later. “I asked him to stop somewhere on the 12th. Anywhere there is a plain. Even a small one will do. If there is one with a river, that’s even better.”

“Why?” Igor asked from the floor. 

“The 12th is the day of the Battle of Kiskun.”

“Yes, when His Majesty bea…” Avros, who was behind Stepan, started and shut up. “Sorry,” he said quickly. 

Stepan let out a soft huff. “You won and we lost. That’s how it is. But I still must honour our dead, and His Excellency said I can.”

“And so you shall,” Roman said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “Can I help?”

He nodded and put his hand over Roman’s. 

“Wait,” Osip said from his hammock in front of Stepan. “Didn’t our Young Lord fight there?”

“Yes,” Stepan said very quietly. “And he would have been killed, had Radu not saved him.” 

“That sounds like a good story,” Peter the Tall said from his hammock in front of Stepan. 

He shook his head. It wasn’t his story to tell. 

“Tell us this, at least. Did he do well in battle?” Igor asked. 

“Probably not,” Peter the Short said. “Why else would he need saving?” 

“Hm… He is fast,” Gennady told them, “but he lacks stamina.”

“He was worse two years ago,” Jan laughed. “All that dancing has improved his endurance.”

One of the sailors grumbled something in Aedleian. Stepan didn’t recognise his voice. 

Jan replied to him. It sounded like an insult.

“Fuck you, you stinky dog’s asshole,” the sailor replied, using some of the few Aedleian words that Stepan had picked up.

Before Jan could answer him, Peter the Tall stood up. “Imperial Guards never get in fights,” he said, to the tune of a march.

“We are proud that we are nice,” Gennady and Roman laughed to the same tune. 

The sailor cursed them again.

Roman squeezed his hand one more time, and got out of his hammock. “Maybe we should let whoever wants to rest, rest,” he said softly. Stepan knew that too; punishments in the army were harsh, and no one wanted to be punished. In the weeks he’d been traveling with the Guards, he hadn’t seen one, so he assumed that the Bosilik army must have had even harsher punishments than the Quhjani one. 

Igor stood up. “Let’s go up to the deck.”

Stepan doubted they would be quieter up there. At least they wouldn’t disturb the sailors, and wouldn’t end up in a fight. And if they went to the end of the ship where there were no cabins, they wouldn’t bother His Excellency, his staff, or the officers. 

By the time they had left the sleeping space below the deck, all forty of the guards that had been trying to rest had followed them, and the moment they were up, the thirty or so men that were guard duty together with the crew, joined them. 

“Well?” Peter the Tall asked him when they had all gathered at one end of the ship. 

“Well what?”

“What is the story between our Young Lord and Radu?” he insisted. 

“And was he any good in battle?” Igor asked again.

“I… I wasn’t there,” he stammered. “I didn’t fight.” He had been too poor to arm himself, even if he too wanted to fight against… 

“But you know what happened, right? Maxim cut off his thoughts. 

“John was right, you gossip like fishwives,” Osip said. “But I would like to know the story too,” he added softly. 

Stepan found himself under the gaze of the fifteen guards who were around him in a circle, and he knew that the others were also listening. “Erm…”

“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to tell it?” Roman told them. 

“Was the Young Lord that bad?” Igor laughed.

“No,” he wasn’t,” Stepan defended him. “He fought bravely but his horse fell and he went down. His opponent struck him, and was about to kill him when Radu managed to reach him, kill his opponent, and pull him to safety.”

“Hm,” Igor snorted. “That doesn’t sound as interesting as I hoped it would be.”

“You don’t understand because you’re not from Jedlowa,” Stepan told him. “His Excellency was Our Young Lord before he became yours. He was the youngest member of our Council of Elders, and his family is the richest in Jedlowa. And Radu was…” he couldn’t lie. “Radu was rich, beautiful, and fierce. He could have had any man or woman he wanted.” Even Stepan, had he wanted. He always had liked tall, broad men. 

Roman grinned. “You’re saying Radu is my rival?”

Stepan snorted. “Hardly. He’s dead, and while he lived, he only had eyes for His Excellency. Those who saw it say that he killed three men, jumped over raised lances in order to reach His Excellency, and then he lifted him off the ground, put him on his horse, and rode back with him to safety.”

“Hm, that’s more interesting,” Igor said excitedly. “It sounds like the rescue of Lady Ilyana in the Romance of the Three Brothers. And did Our Young Lord faint in his arms after declaring his love, like the Lady Ilyana?” he asked gleefully.

“Did he?” he heard from different directions. 

He shook his head. “I heard he passed out from blood loss and fatigue, but he didn’t confess. Neither did Radu, for that matter.” He sighed. “It was not a romance. It was a drama. Radu never said anything, although everyone knew that he wanted His Excellency.” How could anyone not know? Radu had been keeping such a close eye on His Excellency and been looking at potential suitors with such malevolence that everyone knew what he wanted. There were even rumours that Radu had had those who’d dared get close to His Excellency beaten.

“And Our Young Lord?”

Stepan shook his head. 

“Really?”

He nodded. “His Excellency hadn’t even noticed.” His Excellency was the only person in Jedlowa who hadn’t noticed. Back then, Stepan had thought him a little dim. 

“How sad,” Evgeni sighed. “And how dramatic. Did Radu die of a broken heart?”

“No. He was chosen as King of Quhjan and His Excellency challenged him.” Stepan smiled. “You should have seen it. It was a brutal duel to the death. Radu wanted the crown, but His Excellency wanted to live.” He would have liked His Excellency just for fighting so desperately, but the truth was, he did want him to win at that duel. Radu was gorgeous and charming, but he was also selfish. Stepan had stopped liking him when he’d learned that he’d paid members of the Council to propose a lottery system for sending their sacrifice to the Emperor. 

Had Rady had his way, anyone between fifteen and eighteen could have been selected and sent to their conqueror. He hadn’t liked the proposal of other council members to send Lady Irina to the Emperor any better, but at least Lady Irina belonged to one of the Twelve families. They were supposed to guide them, decide what was best for them, and sacrifice themselves for the people when they had to. The idea that any one of them, Stepan himself included, could be sacrificed, while the Twelve and their families remained safe, was not right at all. 

“That’s grim,” Roman whispered, bringing him back to the present. 

“Perhaps, but I prefer people who cherish life to those who cherish crowns,” Vasily said. “At ease,” he told them as they scrambled to stand in line and salute. “What are you doing out here?”

“Eh…” Igor managed. 

“Nothing,” Vanya grinned. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Just listening to stories,” Peter the Tall said. 

“Very dramatic stories,” Jan added. 

Stepan took a step forward. Roman stepped in front of him, covering him. “We request permission to honour the dead next week,” he said. 

“That’s bad luck,” Vasily replied immediately. 

“Not for me,” Stepan said, moving around Roman. If Roman was ready to suffer punishment for doing something that was considered treason in the Empire, then he would find his courage and speak up for himself – and his love. “Roman, and everyone else, they don’t request anything. I do. For myself.”

Roman glared at him and he glared back. 

Vasily studied him with a serious expression. “Hm. Is that a Quhjani custom?”

He nodded. What was the punishment for treason in the Empire? As long as Vasily believed him and let Roman and the others alone, he would suffer it gladly. “Why is it so bad? His Excellency said it was treason,” Stepan asked him. 

“It is not treason, but it is forbidden because it involves the dead, and anything that involves the dead is bad luck. The dead should stay where they are,” Vasily said. 

“And one must only pay honour to one’s ancestors, not to all the dead,” Osip added. 

“We believe that the dead who have given their blood for the Mother Land deserve honour and respect. No matter whether they won or lost in battle.” Roman shuddered next to him and Stepan gave him his hand. 

Vasily stared at them. 

“But Our Young Lord did not didn’t honour the dead last year,” Osip suddenly said. “I know, because on the 12th was my interview for a position in the Special Guards and our Young Lord had been the one to ask me questions and hear me sing.”

“His Excellency said he wasn’t allowed. I think that’s sad,” he added, even no one had asked his opinion. “People should be allowed to believe and do what they want, as long as they are not harming others.”

Roman’s hold tightened encouragingly for a second. “I know I would be sad if I wasn’t allowed to honour my ancestors,” he said quietly. 

“Maybe he doesn’t want to honour the dead,” Vasily said. 

“He does,” Stepan replied immediately. “He just doesn’t want to offend the Bosilik.” He looked at Roman. “I don’t understand nobles,” he whispered. “I’d rather have you than the greatest Emperor in the world, because you said you’d help me.” Unlike His Majesty, who’d forbidden his husband to honour the dead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Roman said, and squeezed his fingers again.

Vasily sighed. “What am to do with you all?”

“You could help us,” Stepan told him seriously. 

“Invoking or honouring the dead, or whatever you want to call it is bad luck,” Vasily said, “and that is forbidden in the Empire.”

“But we are not in the Empire,” he answered back. 

“Wherever His Majesty is, is the Empire,” Vasily told him. 

“But he is also the King of Quhjan,” Stepan said loudly. “I saw him claim the throne according to our ancient laws, and get crowned according to our ancient rites. If where he is, is the Empire, then so it must be Quhjan as well.”

Vasily smiled at him slowly. “You are absolutely right, Stepan. Where he is, it is also Quhjan, and so we must perform the proper customs.” He gestured for them to sit, and when they did, he sat down with them. “Tell us, Stepan, how may we assist you and His Majesty in offering honours to the dead and perform the rites?”

Stepan found himself the centre of attention again, but this time he didn’t feel awkward. He had a mission! He, a blacksmith’s apprentice recently appointed as blacksmith attached to His Imperial Majesty’s Special Guards, he would teach the Bosilik how to be of Quhjan.


	22. Chapter 22

Fyodor started copying the letter for the archives with great amusement, as always. His Majesty’s letters were part travel reports, part love letters. Had the Guards known how lovesick their ‘Young Lord’ was, no doubt they would laugh – and then take him out for a drink. 

_6th of Sweet Month_

_My Husband, My Love,_

_How are you? I am writing from the town of Drygge, where we decided to stop our journey for a couple of days since our Captain said it is most beautiful and we had to see it.  
Husband, he was right. The city was not built on islands, yet it is divided by the most charming little canals that are navigable by barges. Drygge is older than Fladd and its oldest buildings were made of dark, grey stone. _

_As usual, I have no words, but you will see the drawings._

_Husband, we must get better! When I was told that Drygge was as old as Jedlowa I almost cried because Drygge was a city when Jedlowa was a village, and Jedlowa still looks miserably backwards while Drygge is so modern!_

_When you will see the drawings, you will understand._

_Your loving Husband,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. the postal service feels so slow – I am waiting and waiting for your reply with such longing, yet it is not here yet…._

_p.p.s. forgive the shortness of my letter – I really have run out of words._

He finished copying it and sealed it, putting it on the pile of letters to be dispatched, frowning. He wasn’t supposed to be curious, and he wasn’t, but he wondered. What did His Majesty write in all the letters that he sent off sealed and meant only for His Imperial Husband’s eyes? What answer was he waiting for with such impatience? 

He was certain that they would find out before they reached Valentin.

But until then, there were so many other things to do. He double-checked that all the letters to be sent were there, then put them in the dispatches bag and went out of the cabin. Major Lesnev saluted him and he nodded. “Is everything ready for our departure? Any new surprises?”

The Major grinned. “For once, I can say ‘no’.” 

He let out a sigh of relief. His Majesty had acquired this bad habit of collecting people. Why couldn’t he buy things, like every other traveller? First there had been that Ustvelan painter, then two draughtsmen from Deep Port, then that surgeon who was Dr Visser’s apprentice from Fladd. And since when had the two doctors just for the Guards joined them? At least he didn’t have to worry about the carpenters and the boat-makers and the whole crew for the boat he wanted made that he’d hired at Deep Port, nor Dr Visser and his staff or the engineers and the painter he had hired at Fladd. He wondered what Nikits would do when he saw them arrive at Ivanhof, all bearing letters of introduction and requests for lodgings. “Then, I will give these to our Consul, and we can leave.”

“And when you are back,” the Major looked at him seriously, “we need to discuss something.”

He shivered. The Major had the same expression as when he’d told him that His Majesty needed to be entertained. That had been two months ago and His Majesty had not stopped being entertained since. It was bad enough that he was doing what Nikits and Yalenkov did back home in addition to his own work, but since that morning his duties had suddenly included finding bigger and better and nicer spaces for their parties, persuading people to rent out their properties, and reassuring them that, if anything got damaged, _of course_ they would pay for everything. 

Some nights he dreamed of constructing big, no, massive carriages that could carry at least twenty men each, and hold the parties there. What scared him was how detailed those dreams were. One morning, he’d even woken up and drawn a sketch, so vivid it had been. Perhaps he should ask those carpenters that were now in His Majesty’s pay if they could build something like that when they returned home. Or maybe, a carriage in the shape of a ship. His Majesty would like that even more. 

“No, no, nothing like that,” the Major replied as if he had read his mind, when he was certain that he hadn’t said a single word. He was sure that the Major would be a formidable enemy, and he was so glad that the Major was, if not his friend exactly, at least not negatively disposed towards him. “I really shouldn’t keep you, Your Excellency.”

With a sigh, Fyodor walked away. He suddenly missed the days that all he had to handle was the correspondence between His Majesty and Her Excellency, his sister. He suddenly smiled. This was more challenging, but more amusing too. What rabbit would he be asked to take out of his hat now? 

&*&*

Dima handed him the folded letter and he opened it, getting ready to copy it. As he started reading, he frowned, and felt his frown deepen by the time he was at the end. 

_By the shores of Aedley, 7th of Sweet Month,_

_My Heart,_

_How are you?_

_We are about to arrive at Aedley and, once we moor, I will send you this and we will start traveling towards its capital. By land! It would have been possible to take a boat from here to there, one of the big, flat-bottomed barges that travel by rivers, but Count Rasoulin reminded me that we are supposed to be at the Capital of Valentin by the 4th, so we can rest and then be ready for the Anniversary of His Majesty’s marriage to Queen Philippa on the 6th, to which We have been formally invited._

_This means that we must spend most of the month in Aedley, or leave earlier and roam around the countryside of Valentin before arriving at Court on the 4th and… I have heard that Aedley has SO MANY marvellous things that it is worth spending more time here than the countryside of Valentin._

_I will finish this here, as there is nothing like being on deck when the ship is about to enter the harbour, but Husband? As we were traveling yesterday, I realised something. Your eyes have the colour of dark, deep sea. Do I love the sea so much because it reminds me of you? I thought your eyes are the colour of the sky before it gets completely dark, but they really have the colour of the sea. And like the sea, they change. When you are angry, they darken and they are full of raging fury. When you are happy, they shine and they are calm, like sunlight falling on the water’s smooth surface._

_I miss you so much…. I have run out of words to say how much I miss you by this point._

_Your suffering and lonely Husband,_

__

__

Your Elik

_p.s. Yet, even though the West is MARVELLOUS, and I LOVE THE SEA, I keep thinking of our garden – and the pavilion at the heart of the maze. The roses and the hanging lilacs must be all in bloom now. Last year I was unwell, and so I could not sit there with you. This year I am here, even further away. I miss you and I miss our home so much to the point that I almost don’t care about the poisonous plants in the garden…_

His Majesty must have forgotten to seal it, he thought. He rarely wrote so explicitly about His Majesty in his open letters. Well, it wasn’t like he had to record everything for the archives, he decided. He changed the greeting, copied the first two paragraphs, changed the closing section, omitting the post scriptum, folded it closed and poured the wax. 

As soon as he had stamped it with His Majesty’s seal, he heard a sailor start a song about rolling home. The Guards echoed it a moment later, and he was so tempted to go out and see them climbed up on the masts like playful children. Two moments later, he gave in, gathered all the letters in the dispatch bag and got out, blinking in the light for a moment. 

“Adrian and I finished checking the cabins, Your Excellency. Everything is packed and we are ready to go,” His Majesty’s page told him, as he too stared at the singing Guards. 

He glanced around and found His Majesty talking to the Captain, no doubt thanking him. He reached into his pocket and took out a small purse. “For our Captain,” he told Dima as he handed it to him.

With a nod, the young man took it and ran. 

“Where do they all find the energy?” he sighed. He was certain they had stayed up all night the previous night. 

“I have no idea,” Master Anton told him. His eyes looked bruised. 

“Have you been sick? You look like you haven’t slept all night.”

Master Anton glanced at the Guards. “They kept me up again. But it will be worth it,” he grinned. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, but I would prefer to sleep on land for a change.”

Master Anton smiled. “I find the rocking motion of the ship quite pleasant, but I too look forward to being on land.”

“Speaking of which,” Major Lesnev smiled at them. His servant was behind him, with the Major’s and His Majesty’s travel bags. 

“Making all the additional arrangements is already in my schedule, Major,” he said. He nodded to his servants to start taking out the rest of their luggage.

“Then I will go collect Him and we will leave. Your Excellency.” The Major saluted him and went towards His Majesty. 

Fyodor watched as the servants carried everything out the cabins. While half the Guards started climbing down the masts with the agility of wild beasts, the other half waiting for them with their things neatly packed close to them. He smiled. They were fun-loving and seemingly frivolous, but they behaved with the discipline and seriousness expected of Imperial Guards when it mattered. He let them get ready for departure and went to make one last check in the cabins they had occupied, as was his habit. 

As always, Fyodor was the last to descent. He stood by the ship’s ladder and looked down. The harbour was busy, but much smaller than the great harbours of Fladd. The men were in march formation, while he could see the Major together with His Majesty and his sister at the head of the line, in front of two mounted men in the Imperial Guards uniform, and another four in the Royal Guards one. 

Hurriedly, he climbed down. He let a little sigh when his feet touched the ground. Traveling by ship was fast, but he preferred being on land, and then he walked as fast as he could to where His Majesty was. As he approached, he noticed a familiar figure, next to someone in the uniform of an Aedleian general.

“This is a great honour,” he heard His Majesty say, “but…” His Aedleian was good, with just a light accent.

“I insist, I insist,” the General cut him off. 

Count Ismailof smiled. “Your Highness, may I present to you Count Rasoulin, His Imperial Majesty’s Head of Staff? Your Excellency, His Highness, the Duke of Berlington.”

He bowed. The King’s brother himself had come to welcome His Majesty? 

“I hope Your Excellency,” the Duke actually winked, “will agree to riding with me.”

He glanced at the Major. You or me? The Major made a gesture that meant ‘me.’ He nodded. That way he could finish making all the arrangements and catch up with Ismailof. 

“Of course,” His Majesty replied with a smile. “Thank you, Your Highness, for coming to welcome me here. Your land is beautiful.” He started walking with the Duke towards his carriage, Oleg by his side looking miserable. The Major followed a step behind them. 

Lady Irina glared at His Majesty’s back. 

He smiled at her. “It is protocol,” he told her softly. “If the Duke hadn’t come himself, you would be allowed to ride with His Majesty, while the Ambassador and I would be on our own.” He didn’t add that, even if His Majesty had requested it, he would still not allow her to ride together with any foreign dignitaries. Her Excellency had not learned how to keep her mouth shut yet, unlike His Majesty. 

“So now I will ride on my own?” she grumbled. 

That was her fault for not taking any ladies or maids with her on the trip, he thought. “Dima will join you.” As His Majesty’s page, he was the closest thing they had to a maid-of-honour. 

With a huff she headed towards the carriage that was waiting for her. 

He smiled at Ismailof. “So, you came yourself to see….”

“I came to see His Excellency’s Singing Ship,” he grinned. “The horses for the guards and our carriage are further back.”

“Thank you for bringing them. I actually have one more request, and I need to buy some sheep.” He did the calculation in his head again. There were His Majesty, his sister, Dima, the Major, and he. Then there were two of his under-secretaries, four quartermasters serving under the Major (that he had only seen when they flitted in and out of the Major’s rooms), Master Anton, His Majesty’s Doctor (who managed to get motion sickness even when he rode a carriage), the three painters/draughtsmen, the surgeon, two more doctors, their seven servants, and, of course, the hundred guards. No doubt whatever was left over would be donated to the servants of the landowner. “Sheep for 160 people or so.”

“Why?” Ismailof frowned. “The animal market is this way, but I am certain that His Highness would be more than happy to offer them to His Majesty.”

“No, they have to be bought.” The way it was explained to him, the sheep had to belong to whoever performed the ritual. 

“What else do you need?”

“Wine, candles, wooden planks, hawthorn. These don’t have to be for 130 people. Except maybe the wine. It’s always better to have more wine than less.”

Ismailof snorted. “I had been warned that I would need to keep an eye for the evening entertainments but I did not expect this. And what is your request?”

“A meadow by a river. Do you know of a landowner in the area who could let us use his land on the morning of the 12th?”

“His Highness has insisted on hosting His Majesty from here to the capital, and I have been his guest in the past. There are several meadows and pastures crossed by rivers in his lands, so, at least this is easy. He will grant you leave to use whatever land you need. Let’s get the sheep first.” He gestured to his secretary. “Guide His Majesty’s Guards to the horses. We will join you in a while.”

Fyodor motioned to his servants. “With me. We have to go shopping first.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter has animal cruelty: animal sacrifice and what you do after that ... So, if you are triggered or disgusted or can't read it, when you reach this:  
>  _For a few moments he watched the tiny, flickering lights travel downstream, breaking the darkness. He almost felt like he was home. When Leonid brought the first of the sheep forward, he felt that everything was done right and properly, just like home._ SKIP the next 6 paragraphs until you get to _“Now what?” Maxim asked as they were settling down on the grass._
> 
> There is also GORE after that, but it's in a story! which, I thought, might fit the Halloween spirit today, so here it is! they talk about the dead a lot in this one.... 
> 
> this is a story about stories, really.... and rituals and stuff... 
> 
> Oh, and there are two POVs in one chapter! shock! :)

Stepan shook Roman awake. “Up, it’s time.”

Roman opened one eye, stared at him, and then made to turn around, grumbling. He stopped as he was turning, and sat up. “Already?”

He nodded. 

Roman jumped up and started getting dressed. “Wake up the others, will you?” He suddenly grinned. “This is just like when I first joined the army. We’d wake up well before dawn to get ready for drills.”

“Really?”

“Really. Life in the army is nothing like being in the Imperial Guards, much less the Special Guards. We have it so easy, love. So easy.” He reached out, grabbed Stepan’s hand and squeezed his fingers. “I used to feel bad about it, but not anymore, because I met you.”

“I used to feel bad about many things, but not anymore. I love you, Roman.”

“I love you, Stepan.”

They shared a brief kiss and Stepan moved away. “I’m going to wake up the others,” he said as he slid out of their room. After the days of sharing the area below deck with so many people, to have their own room was the best thing in the world. And what a room that was; the Duke’s mansion had over a hundred rooms, and, somehow, His Excellency had managed to persuade him to allow the Guards to stay upstairs, as if they were guests, and not in the basement, together with the servants. 

Stepan had never stayed at a place like that, where he was afraid to touch anything. He’d been happy at the spacious shipyards of Deep Port, and he’d thought their hotel at Fladd was luxurious, but this place… He’d been so stunned that he’d persuaded Lucasz to draw their room for them. Without that drawing, no one would ever believe him back at Jedlowa that he’d stayed in a room where the wood was decorated with real gold, and there were paintings of noble men and women on the walls. No one would believe that he’d slept in a bed with four posters and hanging drapes unless they saw it!

As he started knocking softly on the doors, and alerted the guards to rise, he thought of their host. The Duke had a permanent expression of boredom on his face. How could he be bored when he lived like this? In a mansion! With over a hundred rooms! And in the middle of a park that seemed endless. If Stepan had just a room like that, he’d never be bored. Truly, he couldn’t understand nobles. 

He knocked on the last door, and it opened immediately. Dima, already dressed, grinned at him. “Do you want to wake up His Majesty?” he asked him. 

He froze. He…

Dima pulled him into a room that was more richly decorated and furnished than even their luxurious room, and ran to knock on the inner door. Then he opened it. “Come, come,” he gestured at him. 

Curious, he peeked in. His Excellency was sitting up in bed, wrapped under a thick cover, while Oleg was resting over it by his feet. The dog had an alert expression, while His Excellency yawned sleepily. “Excu… Stepan?” He looked at him with wide-eyed surprise. 

“It is time,” he told him, looking down and feeling awkward. His Excellency was someone else’s Husband, he shouldn’t even be looking at him, let alone stepping into his room. 

“But it’s not even dawn yet. We’ll just call out to them.”

“No, we won’t. I’m going downstairs to get the spits,” he grinned, finally revealing his surprise. “We will be waiting at the entrance,” he said and ran out, before His Excellency asked him anything else. Dima’s laughter echoed behind him, and he heard a very loud ‘What?’ coming from His Excellency before he left the room. 

Count Rasoulin met him at the corridor. He was fully dressed, but he was yawning loudly behind his hand. “Is everything ready?”

“Yes, thank you,” he grinned at him, and continued running down, realizing that his haste was for nothing when he reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“Hello,” Maxim waved at him with the spits he held in his hands. He wasn’t the only one. Leonid seemed to be trying to make a tent out of them, while Avros and Osip pretended they dueled with them. “Roman and the others are taking care of the firewood, while Leonid and his friends have gone to get the sheep.”

“And we’ve made the wreaths,” Mischa and Ivan told him and showed him a couple of crates by their feet. 

He approached and looked at them. “These are very beautiful,” he said admiringly. Even at Jedlowa they wouldn’t have managed to arrange the hawthorn flowers and the leaves so prettily on the edges of the small, round boards. Nor would they have thought to put them in a crate divided in sections so that the wreaths would not get damaged. 

“Of course, we made them,” Ivan grinned. 

He saw Igor and several of his friends coming up from the stairs that led to the basement. “Wine,” he grinned as he lifted the box he was holding with both arms. “Such a waste to give it to the dead, but if that’s what you do, that’s what you do,” he shrugged.

“That’s what we do,” he smiled. 

“Gentlemen, you’d better give your best self today,” Master Anton said from the top of the stairs. “I won’t be there to hold your hand.”

“But you never do. You mean, you won’t be there to wave your hand?” Ignat laughed, and waved a spit around as if it were a baton. 

Master Anton snorted. 

Vasily appeared behind Master Anton. “Gentlemen, this is a solemn ritual. I understand that you are all excited since this is still forbidden in the Empire, but, please, calm yourselves.”

His Excellency walked next to Vasily. “Are you sure we should be doing this, then?” he asked quietly, looking ready to be told that, ‘no, we shouldn’t be doing this, this was a bad idea,’ and bracing himself for disappointment. Lady Irina looked like she was about to start shouting if Vasily told them ‘no’. 

Vasily nodded. “Yes. Where Your Majesty is, there is Quhjan. Who knows, perhaps next year His Imperial Majesty will allow it.” He grinned. “And, if His Majesty continues to forbid it, we know all the good places in the Garden of Ivanhof that we can hold the rite without being seen.”

“Or we can hold it away from Ivanhof,” Evgeni said, smiling. “My mother owns a farm right outside the capital. There is plenty of space, and a brook with the coldest water even in the summer.”

“That sounds like a good alternative. Your Majesty?” Vasily gestured and His Excellency started walking down the stairs, Lady irina by his side. They both looked as excited as they were. Even Oleg seemed particularly enthusiastic, tail wagging as he followed along.

Artemi opened the doors, and they moved out one after the other. Everyone was waiting for them outside, some holding torches to light the way. It was almost like they were leaving for a fair, with the sheep, and the carriages for the firewood. Stepan was even more surprised when he saw a large carriage with ten wine barrels. It seemed like they would do this properly. Just like home. He hadn’t expected Vasily or the Count to allow this. 

“Stepan, thank you,” His Excellency whispered as he stepped next to him. “Please, walk with me. It is our rite,” he told him when Stepan stayed still in order to let him pass. 

Shocked, he obeyed. For a while they walked silently. 

“You are braver than I am,” His Excellency told him suddenly. “I was told it is treason, and so I never asked if I could do it. Or even if it really were treason, for that matter.” He looked full of regret. 

“I’m not married to the Emperor,” Stepan said, and bit his lips immediately afterwards, surprised at his own boldness. 

“Yes,” His Excellency sighed.

“Aren’t you happy with him?” he asked without thinking. He couldn’t imagine being married to someone who didn’t please him. For that matter, he couldn’t understand how His Excellency had managed to love the Emperor. 

“Oh, I am, and he pleases me greatly,” His Excellency replied. “Just sometimes, I wish he weren’t the Emperor. Only, every time I do that, I realise that if he weren’t the Emperor, I would never have met him.” He chuckled. “It is all so confusing when I start having such thoughts.”

“Because you think too much,” Lady Irina told him with certainty. 

“You’re probably right.”

“No, I am right,” she insisted. 

“I’m glad you married him,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have met Roman otherwise.”

“And does he please you?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Greatly. He is the kindest person I have ever met. And when I tell him something, he always asks how he can help me.” He smiled and sighed happily. 

“And which one of you is the wife?” Lady Irina asked.

“Neither of us,” he frowned, surprised at the question.

“Hm. Hm. Later, you must tell me all about how it works,” she told him. 

“Irina,” His Excellency hissed. 

“What? I want to know how it is for two Husbands to be married.”

He opened his mouth to ask what she meant. His Excellency shook his head, and he obeyed the silent command. 

“You do realise that while you keep asking such questions, Count Rasoulin will never allow you to come for dinner at the palace. Either here or Valentin.”

She huffed. “Who cares. I saw palace dinners at Ivanhof. They are boring and either everyone is too scared to speak their mind, of they laugh at whatever stupid joke the king makes.” At His Excellency’s shocked expression, she shrugged. “What? His Majesty is nice, but he’s not funny.”

“He is His Imperial Majesty,” His Excellency whispered. 

“So what?” 

“Look, the river,” Stepan said, pointing forward before His Excellency could scold Lady Irina, or before Lady Irina said something really bad about His Majesty. It was a small river, but it would do. He felt a shiver run down his spine. No, it wouldn’t just do; it was a good place for honouring the dead. 

The river separated the meadow in two, and further down there were weeping willows trailing their leaves down to the water. It was almost a good a location as the meadow of the river back at Jedlowa, a place where the water cut the land in two, and guided whoever followed it to the sea, just like death cut life in two, and took spirits away. Whatever could guide away, could guide back, though. This was a good place, indeed. 

The Guards spread out, creating a semi-circle around them. Lady Irina moved to the left, while Stepan moved to the right of His Excellency. For a while, they were quiet. As he started to calm after their brisk walk, the cold of the night felt more intense. He shivered. It was a good place, and it was a good night. He was certain that even there, the dead would listen to them. 

He felt himself drifting into a state of strange peace, when he heard a horse and carriage approaching. He turned and saw Dima waving at them from the back of a work-horse that was drawing a cart behind it. 

“Look, Oleg, there’s Dima. Go to Dima, boy.” He let go of Oleg’s leash. 

The dog ran happily to Dima, bouncing around him as Dima secured the horse, and calming down the moment Dima took his leash. The two stood quietly beside the Count. 

“Now we can start.”

Igor passed around the first of the bottles and each of them poured a little to the ground. When the bottle was empty, they started on the next one, until each one of them had poured their offering, with His Excellency last. 

Only then did His Excellency begin the call to the dead. The ancient words were spoken with solemnity, and when the Guards started singing as well, Stepan shuddered. He knew how   
well they could sing the call, since he had taught them, but in the darkness of the night, in the open air, it was like being back home. He could hear the pride in their voices, and the plea for the dead to listen and come to them. And even though the Guards had never rehearsed the call with His Excellency, they sounded as if they had been honouring the dead with him for years. They sounded Quhjani, he realized. Even his Roman. 

When the call ended, Lady Irina picked up a wreath and he took a lit candle from Vasily. They handed them to His Excellency and he let big, fat wax drops fall in the middle of the board. When enough wax had fallen, he stuck the candle there, and knelt. He placed the board with the wreath gently on the surface of the water and they watched as it floated away. 

Once he was up, Stepan and Roman took a wreath together, and, with the same care, placed a lit candle on it. On the other side, Lady Irina did the same. After they had placed their offerings, it was time for the other Guards to pick up the rest of the wreaths and candles and let them float as far as they would go.

For a few moments he watched the tiny, flickering lights travel downstream, breaking the darkness. He almost felt like he was home. When Leonid brought the first of the sheep forward, he felt that everything was done right and properly, just like home. 

Vasily handed a dagger to His Excellency and Leonid forced the animal down. With a blank expression, His Excellency knelt over the animal, holding it down with his knees. He caressed its head for a moment and then sliced its throat. The animal shuddered for a few moments as it bled, but soon it stopped moving. Then, Leonid brought the second one. 

While His Excellency killed the animal, Evgeni picked up the body of the first sheep, slashed its ankle and blew air into the cut. Anatoly and Roman started lighting firewood into the first of the pits they had made earlier. As Evgeni removed the skin deftly, Maxim started placing the spits upright. By the time the fire was burning, Evgeni had skinned the animal and Roman and Stepan started cutting it, giving each cut to Ivan and Anatoly to first wash and then salt and place on sticks, which were then suspended from the spits. 

Evgeni was the first to switch place with Kolya. When they got tired, Adrian and Fyodor took their place, while Boyan and Vanya replaced Ivan and Anatoly. By the time they had cut and put the pieces of the second sheep to be roasted, His Excellency had finished killing all fifteen animals. 

Stepan noticed the innards of the first two sheep placed on top of a crate. “Oh, I forgot about them.” Back at Jedlowa, the women would deal with them, not the men. 

His Excellency grinned. “Worry not. I haven’t.” He pointed to the cart Dima had brought. “Herbs and spices and vinegar. Who wants to help me make sausages?”

By the time the dawn broke, all fifteen sheep had been placed around the fires to be roasted, and their innards had been washed clean and cut into pieces together with herbs, and placed inside the sheep intestines or stomachs to be roasted as well. They couldn’t have prepared a better feast if they had been at home. 

“Now what?” Maxim asked as they were settling down on the grass. 

“Now we wait for our food to be cooked and for His Highness’ servants to finish making bread for us,” His Excellency told them as he washed his hands. He looked at the sky. “Until the meat is roasted and the bread is baked, we drink, and we tell tales.”

“Now, this part I like,” Vanya smiled. He sat down and took out a full bottle of wine. He opened it and handed it to His Excellency. 

He raised it in a toast. “Thank you,” he said with a smile. “This… This… Thank you.” He seemed to be unable to say anything else. He took a sip and handed the bottle to Vasily. 

“Next year, we’ll honour the dead at Ivanof. This, I vow.”

“This, we vow,” the Guards repeated as one. 

His Excellency looked at them with love. He really looked at them the way Roman looked at him. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Since now we wait, and we tell stories,” Maxim said, “I want to know, what do the words to the call mean? Stepan did not say.”

Of course, he hadn’t told them. What if they thought it was such bad luck that they refused? 

“Ah.” He sat down. “It calls the dead and tells them that we remember them. That we have not forgotten their sacrifice. That their blood still makes the wheat grow and the flowers bloom in our land. And that we ask them to come to us, and give us their blessing, to let us grow as tall as the wheat, and fair as the flowers, and spill our blood like them and feed the land.”

Maxim shuddered in an exaggerated manner. “You really like drama in Quhjan.”

His Excellency chuckled. “We know that life cannot grow without sacrifice and death. The most beautiful apple must die for its seeds to grow into trees, and the greatest honour is giving your life for your mother land. Isn’t that so, Stepan?”

He nodded. “Yes. And since not everyone can sacrifice themselves for the mother land, those of us who can’t, remember those who do.”

“It’s oddly beautiful,” Evgeni said. “Still, I’d rather die for love.” He smiled. “Or better yet, live for love.”

“Living for love is the best way to live,” His Excellency sighed. “How I miss him,” he whispered. 

Vanya shook his head. “That’s an old story, we need to hear a new one,” he shouted, laughing. 

“I have a story,” His Excellency grinned. “An old one, but I don’t think you have heard it before. The story of a soldier who promised to come back to his wife.”

Stepan smiled. “It’s a good story,” he whispered to Roman. A good story for the day of honouring the dead, that was. He wasn’t sure how the Bosilik would find it. 

“Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was a soldier. He was brave and strong and loved his mother land. One day, at a fair, he saw a maiden as lovely as the dawn, with golden hair and red cheeks. He fell in love, and he loved her more than mother land. The maiden loved him back, and soon they were married.”

“And they were very pleased with each other,” Stepan murmured in Roman’s ear as he took his right hand in his left. 

Roman chuckled.

“But as the sweetness of autumn changes to the bitterness of winter, so does peace change into war. The soldier had to go fight for the mother land and leave his wife behind. How hard that was. So, the soldier promised her that he would return to her, because he loved her so.”

Roman squeezed Stepan’s hand. He hugged his husband with his right arm. 

His Excellency made a soft sound. 

“What happened? You can’t just stop there,” Evgeni protested.

“The days passed, and changed into weeks. The weeks became months, and he was still away, fighting and fighting for the mother land. His wife languished from sadness and her cheeks turned pale from longing. Then one day, her husband returned. Just as he had promised her. He was back.”

Evgeni leaned forward, expecting a happy ending and the lovers’ reunion. 

“He knocked on her door, and called her name, but his voice sounded strange and it frightened her. It was her husband’s voice, and yet it wasn’t. Scared, she looked out of the window and saw him.” His Excellency looked at them with his eyes open wide, as if he too saw something he could not believe. “His body was dark and full of wounds that no longer bled.”

Stepan, knowing how the story went, hugged his Roman even closer. Evgeni looked pole-axed and Vanya stared with wide-eyed shock. The others didn’t look much better. 

“His soft entrails hung down from his belly. Wolves had gnawed on his bones, and the crows had taken his eyes and his tongue. Still, he called to her, and when he saw her looking from behind the window, he punched the glass and broke it.”

Roman shivered. 

“She tried to scream, but fear had gripped her body, turned her legs weak, and taken her voice. She could only stare as her husband climbed up and got into the house. She could only weep as he kissed her, and bit into her soft cheek. She could only suffer as he ate her flesh, one bite at the time, the way he’d once kiss her. And as she died, she heard him. ‘I promised I’d be back. Now you will come with me.’”

“It’s not over yet,” Stepan reassured Roman, who made a strange sound deep in his throat. 

“And that’s why you should never love anyone more than mother land, and, you must never promise to simply come back from war. For you might come back not as you were when you left, but as you are when you are killed,” His Excellency said in a low, dark voice. 

“Now it’s over,” Stepan nodded with a smile. 

“That was just horrible,” Evgeni complained with a sigh.

Maxim hugged him by the shoulders. “You do know it’s just a story, right? It’s not real.”

“Of course, I know that,” Evgeni huffed. “But that poor woman. That poor man.”

His Excellency smiled a little. “You are right, Evgeni, it is a horrible story. But it is also a good story for this day that we honour those who chose duty over everything else. Because, that poor man chose to love his wife more than his country, and broke the laws of Father Sky and Mother Earth. And when you don’t do you duty, people die.”

“Still horrible,” Evgeni sighed.

His Excellency sighed too. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Forgive me. But it is just a story. I doubt any wolf would leave the entrails hanging. Everyone knows how delicious they are.”

Evgeni stared. He looked so shocked, that Stepan turned to kiss Roman, so he wouldn’t burst into laughter. 

“Maybe you should stop talking now,” Vasily said to His Excellency with a grin. “Here, have another drink.” 

He took the bottle. “I like this story.” He sighed after taking a swig. “Besides, I prefer fictional dead to the real ones. I hate fighting. Three years ago, I….” He sighed. 

“You fought at Kiskun, didn’t you?” Osip asked, the way he’d asked a few nights earlier. 

“I did.”

“Were you any good?” Igor asked excitedly.

“What kind of a question is that?” Evgeni hissed, hitting him lightly on the arm. 

“You survived,” Maxim said, “So, you must have done something right.”

Most of the guards nodded. 

“I was lucky.” He smiled a little. “Very lucky.”

“This sounds like a better story than that of the soldier who promised to return to his wife,” Vanya grinned.

“I want to hear it,” Osip added with a nod.

His Excellency looked at them. “It is not a better story. It starts with four hundred knights riding out of Jedlowa to join the army and ends with fifty of them returning. We knew the land, but the imperial army had the numerical advantage, better weapons, and a much better Commander. Our plan was to hold the river, but when His Majesty left an opening at the centre of the front line, our General could not see it for the trap it was. He ordered us across the river, so we did. The moment we were across, the imperial army surrounded us and… It was horrible.”

The Guards felt quiet. 

“What’s truly horrible is not the battle itself. When you fight, you don’t think much. You have your objective and you try to reach it. Or you just fight because you have no choice. At least, that’s how it felt for me. The noise was horrendous. There were horses galloping everywhere and screams and disgusting smells, but I didn’t pay attention to them. My unit was being pummeled from left and right, and when we were completely surrounded, I couldn’t do anything but fight.”

“Why not surrender?” Ivan asked softly. 

“We don’t surrender.”

“That’s stupid,” Leonid said. 

“Perhaps,” he smiled.

“Did you kill anyone?” Peter the Tall asked with a mixture of horror and interest. 

He nodded as he took another sip of the wine. “But that was not the worst part. No, for me the worst part was afterwards. My horse slipped on the bloody mud and fell. I rolled away, but as I did, someone tried to stab me. He was probably aiming for my back, but as I was still moving, he only hit my arm. As I started trying to get up from the muddy ground, I was certain I would die, but then my best friend came from behind the man who was about to finish me off and pulled me up to him.” He went quiet.

“That’s a good thing, is it not?” Dima, His Excellency’s page, suddenly asked. “Your best friend saved you.”

“Yes, and he managed to ride us back to the camp.”

“Was that the worst part? That you were saved while others died?” Vasily asked. 

His Excellency frowned. “Perhaps it was part of it. But no, for me the worst part was that night, when the orders came for our retreat, and I realized that I had lost most of my friends in one morning. Jedlowa sent four cavalry squadrons, of a hundred men each, including the officers. Each squadron had five units of twenty. Every day, we would train with our unit for two hours, and two hours together with the other units of our squadron. Just from that we knew each other well.”

“Like us,” Vanya said. “I knew some of the guards because we had served in the same regiment, and Roman, but after practicing with everyone for a year, I feel that now we are a unit.”

“That’s true,” Peter the Short said at the same time as Jan. 

“I was the only one to come back from my unit,” he said quietly. “Of my squadron, only another fourteen men survived. In just one morning, they were no more, and so many others had perished with them. And for what? Just…” 

Stepan too had wondered why the Emperor had attacked them. They weren’t rich. Even the hotel they had stayed had been more luxurious than His Excellency’s house back at Jedlowa. It seemed, though, that His Excellency would not tell them for fear of offending the Bosilik. He promised himself to ask when he could, away from the Bosilik. 

His Excellency drank some more. “But at least they had done their duty, and died defending Quhjan. They sacrificed their lives for mother land. When I wanted to do the same and surrender myself to the Empire, my best friend called me a traitor and I lost him too. So, I guess, I lost all my friends in one morning. That was horrible.” He smiled. “But at least that strengthened my resolve to do my duty to my land.”

“That wasn’t a good story either,” Peter the Tall said quietly after a few moments. 

“Hm, either your best friend was not really your best friend, or he must have loved you very much,” Evgeni said. “At a hard glance, the hottest fire turns to ice. At denied embraces, the sweetest love dies and turns to bitter hate.”

“Barini?” Roman asked him. 

“Monte-Filiani.”

“Ah.” 

Maxim chuckled. “You see love everywhere, Evgeni.”

“But Love is Everywhere,” he said loudly. “And as His Majesty just told us, there’s love even in the battlefield. I think that’s beautiful,” he sighed. 

“Radu didn’t love me,” His Excellency protested. “He was just my best friend.”

Stepan let out a snort before thinking to control himself.

“He was.”

“He only had eyes for you,” Stepan told him. He hadn’t expected a lord like Radu to look at him, no matter how much Stepan had admired him, but he had seen how Radu never looked at any of his admirers. No, the only one he noticed was His Excellency, who didn’t see him. 

“Hm…” Lady Irina frowned for a second. “I always thought it was a bit strange that Radu would come to our house in the morning, have breakfast with us, go out with Eli, and then, in the evening, he’d bring Eli back and have dinner with us. None of my friends ever came to have breakfast in our house. But now it makes sense.”

“Radu only did it because he was worried about me. I get easily lost.”

Vasily let out a huff that was drowned by laughter coming from several directions. 

“That poor man,” Evgeni sighed. 

“Which one?” Vanya asked with a snort. “Radu the Lovelorn or Elik the Oblivious?”

His Excellency froze. “Excuse me?”

“Both,” Peter the Tall nodded.

“He didn’t love me.”

“Even I can see it now, Eli. He did spend all his free time with you, and… Remember that time that you had gone riding alone with Vasia? And then, two days later, someone had beaten up Vasia? I bet it was Radu,” Lady Irina said darkly. “He was always an ass. He was an ass when he was your friend, and he was an ass when he volunteered to be king so he could kill you.”

“Love turned to hate indeed,” Evgeni gasped. “This is so sad. And horrible.”

Maxim hugged him again. “There, there, it’s all in the past,” he comforted him, grinning. “Now, it’s just a story.”

“Just a story,” His Excellency whispered, looking lost in thought. 

“It really is like the romance of Lady Izabella and King Theodorus,” Peter the Tall said loudly. “He wanted her, but she was not interested in him at all. When she rejected his advances and married the Blue Knight, King Theodorus got so angry that he surrounded their castle with all his knights and burned her and her husband. And then realized what he’d done, and threw himself in the flames.”

His Excellency stayed quiet for a while. “Does it matter? He never said anything, and now he’s dead, but I’m not. Perhaps some things are not meant to be. Radu, he couldn’t understand that I chose duty over him.” He shrugged and poured some wine on the ground. “May he rest, and stay where he is.” He passed the bottle back to Vasily. 

“Yes. Who would want him back?” Lady Irina said loudly. “Radu was an ass. I much prefer His Majesty as my brother-in-law.”

“You are right,” Evgeni whispered with amazement. “Had Radu the Lovelorn won over Elik the Oblivious, we wouldn’t be here.”

“We should make that into a story,” Vanya grinned. “The Tale of the Traveling Prince and His Singing Ship, roaming the world while searching for true love.”

“No, no, the Prince already has found his true love,” Roman said, smiling. “He’s been separated from him for some reason, though.”

“A witch,” His Excellency said darkly. “An evil witch.”

Peter the Tall nodded. “Yes, the evil witch has cast her spell on the prince and forced him to leave, while his true love languishes.”

“But who will break the spell then?” Stepan asked quietly. 

“Hm….” His Excellency shrugged. 

“I know. A good witch comes and breaks the spell, making the prince realise that his true love is waiting back home for him,” Anatoly smiled. 

“An interesting idea,” Maxim said, clearly not liking it. 

Leonid made a noise and raised his hand. “Or maybe his true love decides to bring back his prince? And he sets off on his own ship, a miserable one, where no one sings, and goes to find his prince.”

“And somewhere else, the evil witch annoys a female warrior, and she kills her, thus breaking the spell,” Lady Irina laughed. 

“Then the prince’s true love finds the prince about to be eaten by a dragon, so he kills the dragon, saves the prince and…” Gennady actually giggled, “they are greatly pleased with each other.”

“Or there is a twist, and he kills the prince and saves the dragon,” Osip guffawed, falling over.

“No,” several of the guards shouted, their cry mingling with the laughter of others. 

“It’s a proper love story,” Evgeni’s voice rang over them. “It has to end well.”

“It ends well for the dragon,” Osip wheezed.

His Excellency burst into laughter.

“So, the prince’s true love kills the dragon,” Gennady repeated when they had quieted down. 

“And then they take the dragon’s hoard,” Ivan picked up the story, “and when they are back, they build a palace where every room has walls of gold and doors of silver, and they all live happily ever after.”

“That works for me,” Vasily said after he finished the bottle and as he picked up another. He shook his head, still grinning. “I hope you will all allow me to tell you a story now. The story of a farmer who one day found a walnut.”

Roman smiled. “Ah, now that’s what I call a good story.” He gave Stepan a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll see, this is a good one.”

&*&*

_same day, but a little later back at Jedlowa_

Jedlowa looked deserted, but Nikolaj didn’t have to wonder long about where everyone was. The guard at his darling’s house had been unable to reply to him when he saw him, so shocked his was, but a short stroll around quickly revealed to him where he should go. The smell of roasting meat led him straight to the river, where everyone was gathered and was eating and drinking and dancing merrily while all the musicians of Jedlowa played on. 

He dismounted and walked around, happily surprised that no one seemed to recognize him, even though he was escorted by four of his guards. Perhaps they were all far too dirty from riding from the break of dawn. Some women gave him appreciative looks, and the bolder (or, rather, the drunk ones, judging from their breaths), tried to pull him to dance. He disengaged himself gently from them and reached the place where he could see the councilmen have their feast. And a feast it was, their table having more dishes than anyone else’s, and a great variety of breads. 

“Gentlemen,” he smiled at them. “What is the occasion?”

Grigorief froze when he recognized him. “Your Majesty,” he stammered as he stood up and bowed. “This is to commemorate the dead of the battle of Kiskun.”

“Hm, really? This seems like a celebration.”

“It is a celebration of every man who fought bravely that day.”

“Ah.” He sat down and picked up a bottle of wine. He tried it. “Ah, I know this wine,” he grinned. “My da… Consort had sent some to me to try. He said he liked the white, but I prefer the red.” He smiled. Soon he could tell that to his darling. Soon. He reached for the water and poured some over his hands. 

“Allow me,” one of the council Elders told him and tried to take the jug from him.

“I can manage,” he said as he washed himself. He looked around. “This seems a good idea. A celebration of bravery ending in a merry feast. We approve.”

He looked for somewhere to wipe his hands, since he was dusty from head to toe, and a richly-dressed woman, no doubt an Elder’s wife, gave him her handkerchief. He smiled at her pleasantly as he finished cleaning his hands. Another Elder’s wife put a plate heaped with meat and bread in front of him. “Thank you, this is most welcome. We have been riding since dawn, and We are hungry now,” he laughed. 

He was so hungry that he didn’t care that the meat was overcooked. But he decided that he would write that down in the list of questions for his darling when he went to rest in his house. Ah, his darling’s house without his darling was twice as empty, but then so had been Ivanhof. 

Soon, soon, he’d be near his darling soon.


	24. Chapter 24

Elik looked outside the window again. The more they crossed Aedley-Upon-the-River, the more excited and disappointed he felt. He turned to Vasily. “This city is truly a marvel among marvels. We have been traveling for over twenty minutes and we have yet to reach the centre.”

“It is the largest city in the West,” Vasily replied, still looking out with a frown. 

“I had read about that, but I hadn’t realised how big it would be. And, as we are passing through now, I realise that…” The streets were wide and, at first, they had been relatively empty, but as they went further in, they became more and more crowded. He would never be able to walk with Oleg in them. “What’s going on there?” he asked, distracted by the sight of a man trying to run through the crowd as someone else was running behind him gesturing wildly.

Vasily’s frown deepened. “A pick-pocket probably.” 

“And what is the police doing?”

“They do not have the patrol system as we do. Someone must catch that miserable creature first, and then they will deal with him.”

“Really? A wronged person must catch himself the person who wronged him, and bring him to the police?”

“Exactly.”

Elik petted Oleg. He didn’t think this was an efficient system.

“You wanted to ask me something?”

“Yes, yes.” The pickpocket had managed to escape in one of the narrow streets that led to the main one. Would the victim of his crime manage to catch him? “I realise that… It won’t be a good idea to walk Oleg around here, will it?”

“No,” Vasily said firmly. “Too much of a security risk.”

“I thought so.”

“You look disappointed.”

“I am. I like walking in a new city with Oleg and seeing it with my own eyes.”

Vasily made to say something. 

“But I do understand that this will put my Guards at risk.”

“It will put you at risk.”

“No, it will put them at risk, because they will be the ones defending me, or running after whoever tries to pick my pocket or who knows what else.” He smiled. “I will be at my best behaviour, I promise. I will only use a carriage to travel and there will be no coffee shop visits.”

“No coffee?” Irina shouted. 

He looked at Vasily. 

“I am certain that it will be possible to continue visiting coffee houses, provided we have checked them first, and they are not frequented by many.”

Irina grimaced. “You mean, we will have to go to those places that only nobles go to?”

“Her Excellency is noble now,” Vasily told her with the tiniest of smiles. 

“I’m a new noble. These places are full of old nobles, and old nobles are boring.” She made another face. “I’m so glad that boring duke left us alone. He was only talking of hunting and how many foxes or pheasants or deer he killed each season.” She glared out, as if she could see him. “One should kill what one needs to eat, and only that.”

“Foxes are predators,” Elik told her. “Remember when we woke up one morning to find that a fox had killed all our chicken?” He ignored Vasily’s amused grin at his words and how Dima stared outside as if he were frozen, trying not to draw any attention to himself. 

She nodded. “Yes, but you did not go out to find and kill all the foxes around Jedlowa. We just made a better chicken coop.”

Even though the Duke had been their host and he felt the need to defend him just for that, he couldn’t argue with his sister on that point. Everything in nature had its place, even predators. 

She huffed. “The things I do,” she muttered grumpily. “Fine,” she said more loudly. “I will not ask to go out to the coffee places where the common folk go, nor to walk around the city.”

“Thank you,” he said at the same time as Vasily. “Also… You’ll need more clothes,” he told Irina. “So, will I, for that matter. We will talk to the Count as soon as we are settled in our new rooms.”

“Why? I never go anywhere,” she protested. “And I don’t want to go anywhere,” she continued more loudly. “The last three days that I had to join you for lunch and dinner with the duke were horrible. No, Eli, you keep your formal dinners and parties, and I will stay home and read my books.”

“But we will be here for weeks. We need to have new clothes for every occasion.” He sighed. “Why did they tell me that I would not attend formal functions and perform any formal duties since I am traveling under an assumed name? I have been invited to every ball and dance and dinner from the capital of Ustvela to here. I did not expect to be entertained so much, nor to attend a NOT-formal function to which I am the NOT-guest of honour almost every night. I only have five decent suits for formal occasions and you only have two good dresses.”

Irina glared at him. “I know what you are doing. You want to make me into a boring old noble and then find me a husband.”

Vasily coughed, probably trying to hide that he was starting to laugh. He picked up his book on the history of Aedley and opened it loudly, trying to give them some privacy. 

“No,” he told her calmly. “I do want you to look noble, because you are my sister, and I am… well…. NOT-a-count, so I must uphold His Majesty’s honour by looking like His Consort, but I do not want to find you a husband. You will find your own partner, whenever you want. I will just approve of them.”

She snorted. “If you really want me to look noble and you say you also want to look like a proper Consort, then why don’t you wear wigs and make-up like every other aristocrat? Why must I look noble, when you don’t?”

“It is Our Right and Privilege as His Majesty’s Consort to set fashion in Our Court, and We don’t like wigs and make-up. I am trying to set up a new fashion. So far, it’s not working that well outside Ivanhof, but who cares? If I go back, I will have a Court that will shine with true and not made-up beauty. That is completely different from not having enough clothes. I sent you a tutor in etiquette, why has she not taught you this?”

“She did teach me etiquette. Did you notice how I don’t eat with my hands?”

“You never ate with your hands. Our Mother taught us that much, and more.”

Irina laughed. “Eli, when did you become such a nag?”

“Excuse me?”

“I do not intend to join you at any formal dinner even if you begged me and the Count allowed it, so I don’t need new dresses.”

“But what about the theatre? And the opera? You will not join me for those either?”

Irina gasped. “You mean it? I can go to the theatre or the opera? Like I did at Deep Port, when I went with the Count to the theatre, and we had our own box?”

He nodded. And what a bad idea that had been. He still didn’t know what she had told the Count to make him forbid her from joining them in other occasions. “I managed to persuade him to start letting you out.” He glanced at Vasily, who was still pretending to be absorbed in his book. “I promised him it would be good for your education and for learning manners from young noble ladies, and the Ambassador’s daughter will be your Lady-in-Waiting while we are here.”

Her smile fell. “I don’t want to be a ‘noble young lady’.”

“What do you want to be, then?”

She stared at him. “I want to become a Member of the Council of Elders and support your work of modernising our land.”

Elik stared back. “I don’t think it can be done.”

“Why not? If you and your Husband decree it, it can be done.”

“There’s never been a woman in the Council of Elders. There is no precedence for that.”

“So what? Make my appointment the thing that will set a ‘precedence’. There was no male Empress before you, yet, there you are. His Majesty, Your Husband set a precedence, so why can’t you set one with me?”

“Well…” She had a point, but could it be that easy? Just with a decree? His Husband had been looking for a way to marry him as his first wife for weeks, and then they had had to wait for the Council to accept to appoint a king who could either live or die, let alone him having to fight Radu… He sighed. That hurt more now that he had been forced to accept that Radu had loved him, and… 

“Think about it,” she continued. “Those old men at the Council still hate you for loving that m...” She stopped and glanced at Vasily, who still kept his head down and his eyes on the text, but hadn’t turned a single page. “That man. Do you think they will like you more when you send them the decree for all the changes that must take place at Jedlowa? You will need support, Eli.” She frowned. “Most of your friends are gone, Eli. Who will support you now that they are gone, if not your sister?” 

He nodded. “You are right. Who will support me but you? But, sister dear,” he told her with a smile, “don’t you see now why it is even more important that you learn how to act like a ‘noble young lady’?”

“No,” she insisted. 

“My friends and I, we were the ‘noble young men’ of Jedlowa. The ones who would replace the old men someday. The ones who had to behave dutifully and properly.”

“I’m also dutiful and proper, like any noble young Jedlowan woman.”

“But, Irina, I want a new Jedlowa. One that will be part of our new Empire, and that will compete with the West in all the marvellous things, and produce new wonders.” He wanted new art, new music, new theatre, better medicine and medical practices, better weapons for the army, food for everyone, education for all, and freedom and equality for all, conquerors and conquered alike. Oh, and how he longed for ships and access to the sea. How he hoped His Husband would let him return. He had so many ideas, and even though he knew nothing would come of them, he would definitely try doing something. “You too must become new. The new noble woman of Jedlowa, who can fight but can also entertain courtiers and diplomats without shocking them.”

“You want me to change like you have changed.”

“Have I changed that much, or so badly?”

Vasily gave up pretending that he didn’t pay any attention to them and turned towards her. She studied him. “No, not really. You are still stupidly dutiful.”

He chuckled. That was such a good description. 

“Alright,” she finally said just as their carriage turned into a broad street. Elik looked out, at the massive buildings that were lining it when they made another turn and headed towards a large gate in the middle of the largest building of that part of the street. So, this was the Embassy?

“I will try learning more courtly manners and I will get as many new dresses as you want me to. But I will have them designed myself. If you can set the fashion at Ivanhof, then I will set it at Jedlowa, and this new noble woman of Jedlowa will be dressed for comfort and not just for fashion.”

“Choose expensive fabrics,” Elik told her immediately. “Your comfort must be of good quality.”

She laughed. Dima tried hard not to laugh, but he still huffed with amusement. 

They passed under a vaulted corridor to a large courtyard. The building surrounded it on all four sides. It was made with light-yellow stone, and had three stories with numerous windows. It seemed like the Ambassador had not lied when he’d said there was space enough for all of them. 

Their carriage came to a stop and he heard Gregory give the order for the men to get in line. No, he was not his Gregory at that moment; he was Adjutant Striglitz. He froze. “No, not an Entrance,” he whispered. He had forgotten these formalities for most of the trip.

Vasily smiled. 

Realisation hit him. Was that why the Count had made him dress up? And the cunning man and Vasily knew how he hated them, and so kept it a secret from him. “I thought this was not a formal occasion.”

“No, but you are staying at the Embassy.”

“The Ambassador at Fladd did not make me go through this,” he caught himself complaining. Maybe Irina was right; when had he become such a nag?

“At Fladd you were not received by His Royal Highness, thus making your visit a semi-formal affair.”

“King Hand Ulrich welcomed me at Deep Port.”

“And then sent you off at the shipyards, thus making clear that he did not want this to be a formal affair.” 

The carriage came to a halt, ending their discussion. “So, off I go?” he whispered as he handed Oleg’s leash to Dima.

Vasily nodded. 

A guard opened the door, and Elik stepped out. All the guards at the Embassy, as well as all of his guards were in four rows. Only Roman, Peter the Tall and Leonid, who were the tallest of them, stood one step ahead of everyone, each holding an Imperial Standard. Except for them, everyone else was in attention and had their heads turned towards him. He froze again. 

Vasily coughed behind him and he stepped forward, letting them get out of the carriage. 

The drummers started playing the Imperial march, the melody announcing that the Emperor was about to arrive. The standard-bearers lowered the Standards to the ground. March over, Adjutant Striglitz shouted as loudly as he could, “Imperial Salute. Present Arms.”

As one, the three lifted the standards and his Guards drew their swords from their scabbards, raised them up, and then held them against their shoulders. Elik smiled at them. He really had forgotten how well-trained they were as Guards, as elite soldiers. They were magnificent. 

Elik and Vasily continued standing in attention as the drummers played Hail Our Good and Mighty Sovereign, the march announcing the appearance of the Emperor. It was a solemn tune, full of dignity. The Bosilik were such a serious people. When they weren’t being total perverts. He bit his lips and looked at His Guards. They honoured him, and he had to honour them too. 

When the March was over, Elik gave them a nod and started walking slowly to where the Ambassador was waiting. Vanya winked at him as he passed, and Elik looked down, huffing with amusement. “We haven’t had an entrance in a while,” he murmured. “How far the Empire feels and yet… it’s also here.”

He heard Vasily make a soft sound. 

“You disagree?”

“No. Just amused that you finally understand that where you are, it is also the Empire.”

“The Empire wouldn’t stand without Them. And if I am here, it is because of them.” He smiled at his Guards. How could he love them all so much? And did this mean that he’d have no more parties, since this was a semi-formal visit now? 

Count Ismailof bowed deeply to him. “Welcome to this little piece of the Empire, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, We are glad to be here.”

“Let me show you to your rooms,” the Count continued as he led him into the building. 

“Thank you.” The moment they were inside and Elik had been introduced to the members of staff of the embassy and the servants further back, he turned to the Count. “Even though resting sounds like a wonderful idea right now, Oleg has been stuck in a carriage for hours. He needs his walk. Is there a garden or a park nearby so we could take our walk? Dima?”

The young man tried not to laugh as he came forward, or rather, as he was pulled forward by Oleg. “And,” he looked backwards, “Where is Count Rasoulin? We must speak to him.”

The Count smiled as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world, but was not allowed to laugh. “Your Majesty can use the Embassy’s gardens, and I will notify the Count that his presence is required.”

“Thank you.” He followed him out to a garden that seemed to stretch all the way to a small forest and who knew where after that. “Oh, how wonderful.”

“From here, you can walk straight to the river, and use the Imperial Barge, if you wish it.”

Elik felt his eyes widen with excitement. “Maybe later,” he said, when he realised that he’d need to add that to his schedule with the Count before doing it. Not that he would add it at that point; first, he had to stretch his legs, and walk Oleg. 

The moment he was alone, he let go of Oleg’s leash. Oleg started running immediately. Moments later, he began digging into the ground. “Oleg, no, not the flowers. Oleg!” 

Count Rasoulin sighed behind him. 

“He’s too excited to be out of the carriage,” he sighed as well. “Oleg,” he shouted. “Stop it!” Oleg stayed still. “Good boy, good boy,” he said as he gave him a treat. “Good Oleg.” The dog jumped around excitedly. “Jumping is good,” he told him, with another piece of dry meat in his hands. “There you are. Count Rasoulin, we need new clothes. Irina and I. Can you find someone who can prepare something for us as quickly as possible? And… there will be no more parties, right?”

Count Rasoulin nodded.

“Still, I was thinking. Since this is a semi-formal visit, can’t I host one ball in His Majesty’s Honour?”

Count Rasoulin looked at him warily. “What kind of a ball?”

“A very proper one. Did you really say that the ballroom here can host five hundred people?”

Count Rasoulin nodded. 

“I thought… The Ambassador will regret this, won’t he? Oleg,” he shouted again, making the dog stop for two seconds. “From tomorrow we need to find a park, or tell the Ambassador’s gardener that we have found a worker that will help him replant the garden by opening the holes.”

“Your Majesty, I am certain that the Ambassador will be grateful that your… worker has decided to help in the garden.” 

“And I am certain that you are lying.” Poor Oleg; he always got in a frenzy after being stuck on carriages for hours, or after he had recovered from his sea-sickness. He was tormenting his dearest companion, but he could not bear to send him back. 

“I would never,” he protested. “Your Majesty, the Embassy does not belong to the Ambassador, but the Crown. Therefore, this is not the Ambassador’s garden, but Your garden, and Oleg is now determined to open a new hole for planting more roses.”

He took a deep breath. “Then We shall have more roses,” he said. Oleg needed his fun. And if he was forced to be behave, then he would do everything properly, even having his fun. “I thought of hosting a costumed ball before leaving for Valentin.” Surely His Husband would allow that, even if he fell out of favour. Or the Count could host it…. The King’s Brother had been a most generous host, he had to be honoured. “His Majesty and His brothers will be the guests of honour, but can you and the Ambassador make a list of who else should be invited, so that we can send the invitations in time for people to prepare their costumes?” He chuckled. “If it weren’t too undignified, I would dress as a swan, but…”

Count Rasoulin looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Very undignified,” he said crisply. 

He nodded. “So, I too need the time to come up with an idea for my costume. What’s the schedule for tonight?”

“Dinner at the Embassy, then a small gathering hosted by the Duchess of Berlington.”

He nodded. He hoped she wasn’t as boring as her husband. Why did they have separate households? “And what of my Guards?”

“I’m certain they will find something to keep themselves amused.”

He grinned. “I am fairly certain that they are already out and about and doing whatever it is they do.”

“I am afraid that is exactly what they are doing right now, going out and about,” the Count said seriously.

“I am glad they are amusing themselves. Your Excellency, We would like to write a letter now. Here, in the garden. Aren’t we lucky we have such a nice weather?”

“Would you like to dictate it, or write it yourself?”

“I will write it myself.” He sat down on a bench at the side of the garden and took out his notebook. “Thank you, Your Excellency.”

The Count bowed and left him alone. 

He looked at the blank piece of paper. Hm. It would look better on an official paper, he decided, so he’d just make a draft. 

_Embassy, 14th_

_My Dear Duchess,_

_We hope this finds you well._

_We are still displeased with the Ladies at Court, but not with You. We have finally understood why boredom is the worst enemy of a Court._

After three days with His Highness, he had understood that too well. Irina had been right; the Duke was boring. Those three days had felt like ages, and, he’d finally understood why Her Grace complained that the Ladies were bored and suffering from it.

He sighed. If he went back, there would be changes, but why write to her at this point, if His Majesty had decided that he was not to return? He closed his notebook and put the pencil back in its case. 

“Ah, why is the postal service so slow?” he sighed.

Oleg stopped his digging, turned towards him and immediately ran to him. Seconds later, Oleg’s dirty paws were on his legs and his chest, and Oleg was doing his best to lick his face. “Oh, Oleg,” he sighed again as he hugged him. He didn’t want to fall out of favour. He wanted to go home. 

Why had he been so honest? 

Because lying and keeping secrets had made him miserable, that was why, he reminded himself. He couldn’t live with that sadness any longer. 

With one more lick on his cheek, Oleg stepped down and started jumping around, as if to show him how dirty he was everywhere. He’d turn, stop, stare, and grin, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Then he’d turn again. 

He sat up. “When I catch you, you’re going to have such a long bath,” he laughed and made to grab him.

Oleg started running and he followed him. Somehow, Oleg reminded him of His Husband when they’d first married; he could always tell when he was sad, and he would always try comforting him. Had Nikolaj stopped doing that because he wasn’t honest with him? When his reply came, he would know. 

&*&*

_meanwhile, in a room overlooking the Embassy garden_

“That dog is a menace,” Count Ismailof shouted. “My flowers, my poor flowers. My garden. Ah.” With a deep sigh, he turned away from the window and collapsed on a chair. 

“The garden belongs to the Embassy, and the Embassy to the Empire,” Fyodor told him sternly. “And Everything that belongs to the Empire, belongs to their Majesties. Pavel, my friend, you just have to accept it. After today, you will have more roses. Tea?” 

Ismailof nodded with another sigh. 

Fyodor poured some into the cups, and offered one first to the Major and then to Ismailof. 

“Personally, I find that dog wonderful,” said the Major, still looking down. “I would like one. I wonder if I could ask for one instead of honours or rewards at the end of this journey. Or maybe two, so I could breed them.”

Fyodor sat down. “Sometimes I wonder if we will ever go back. I fear that our Young Lord will decide to sail across the sea after Valentin and we will all drown.”

“You were always the optimist,” Ismailof chuckled. 

The Major huffed with amusement. “I’m certain that if he gets that idea into his head, we’ll find some way to make him change his mind.” He bowed deeply to Ismailof. “Thank you for helping us bring our plan to fruition. He did understand that taking walks here was a security risk, but I am much happier knowing he has to have an official schedule and can’t go out unless he’s on a carriage and with four guards escorting him.”

“I’m just happy there will be no more parties,” Fyodor grinned. 

The Major laughed. 

“You realise that Aedley is considered the merriest capital of the world? And that he’s invited to two or three parties every night?”

“As long as I don’t have to organise them anymore, he can be invited to ten parties every night.” Fyodor shrugged. “I have nightmares that the next one will be on a ship on wheels.”

“Don’t give him any ideas,” the Major groaned, expression darkening for a moment.

“I don’t envy you at all,” Ismailof smiled. “And to think I was trying to get transferred back to Court. No, I will stay here. It’s quieter.”

Major Lesnev grinned.

“I can’t imagine what you two go through trying to keep him on a leash. Or his dog. Oh, that dog,” he almost whimpered. “My poor garden.”

“You’ll just have more roses,” Fyodor and the Major said at the same time, laughing as they realised they had spoken in unison.

“Really, Ismailof. His Majesty’s taken it upon himself to redecorate your garden and you are complaining? In your place, I would say how honoured I am.”

Ismailof shook his head tiredly. “You will be paying for this.”

“Of course. When did we not pay for damages caused?”

Major nodded. “The Crown always pays its debts.”

“Good. Because I had hired the best landscape architect to design my garden. Ah, my poor flowers.”

The Major rolled his eyes upwards for a second. He suddenly chuckled. 

“What is it?”

“Oleg. Ah, I really want a dog like that. It could help me with my garden.” He put down his tea cup and smiled at them. “Your Excellencies, I should leave you to compile that list of guests.”

“Where are you going?”

“To collect His Majesty and help him wash Oleg. Where else?”


	25. Chapter 25

Francis rose from his seat the moment Nikolaj entered the dining room. “Brother,” he called out and walked to greet him. His hair had turned white and his face was more lined since the last time he’d seen him, but his careful, calculating expression had not changed. Cunning old fox; he probably knew already what Nikolaj wanted to discuss with him. 

“Brother,” he too said loudly. 

They met halfway through the room and embraced, to the acclamation of Francis’ courtiers. 

“What joy it is for me to welcome you to my country,” Francis told him as he led him to the table. 

“And what a joy it is for me to be here.” He looked around at the spacious and bright hall. The ceiling was high, the windows were tall, and the walls were painted a delicate green, with fragile gilded stucco forming frames around the paintings. To think that this was only the main Hall of Yastba. How much more brilliant Krzydzov and its palaces must be. “Yastba is a charming city, and being here only makes me sad that time does not allow me to visit Krzydzov. My Dearest wrote about it with great fondness.”

Francis huffed for a second. “And did His Majesty write about what he did there?”

“He mentioned a few things,” he replied, trying not to laugh. 

His Royal Brother showed him to his seat, and they sat at the same time. “He was most….” He shook his head. “Energetic, to put it mildly.” Then he laughed, glancing down at the swan brooch that Nikolaj wore, and he would wear until his Darling was beside him. “You are a brave man.”

He nodded. “And I am searching for more brave men,” he said quietly. Why wait since Francis knew what he would talk about? “Did you read about Our Royal Brother George’s illness?”

“You can’t even wait for dessert, so that the sweetness of the food will cover the bitterness of what you say?”

“What bitterness?” Nikolaj snorted. “The man attacked Us while we were showing Our Most Beloved his new country.” He hit his closed his fist on the table. “And for the last two years his ships have been harassing yours. You speak of bitterness, as if you have received nothing but benefits from him.”

Francis stayed silent as the first course was served. “That may be, but I see no benefits to be gained from his illness either.”

Nikolaj stared at him. Was he an idiot? 

“His heir is a child, and his court will tear itself to pieces trying to control him and his mother. They will be too busy to bother my ships,” Francis told him. “Why do anything? I say, good riddance to the pest, and let’s enjoy the show.”

“And I say, this is the time to put an end to their abuses.”

Francis shrugged. “Eat your soup before it gets cold.”

Nikolaj took a deep breath. Stupid old man. He took his spoon and tried the damned soup. “Oh, this is good.” A bit heavy on the garlic, making him remember his darling. He too added too much garlic on the food, without thinking how rude it was to talk to guests with your breath full of garlic. He made a note to himself to write it down in his list of things he should speak to Him.

“I know,” Francis nodded smugly. 

Nikolaj glared at him for a moment. “So, I shouldn’t count on your support?”

“You will try to ‘end their abuses’?”

“What better time than now?”

“Attacking a widow and her baby. That is low.”

“Waiting until that baby grows is stupid.”

“Waiting until the factions destroy the court themselves is better.” Francis gestured to the servants to bring the second course.

Nikolaj put his spoon down. When had his Royal Brother inhaled his soup? He looked around and noticed that he was not the only one to have barely touched his food. 

“You know,” Francis said as the second plate was put before them, “He also has a grown-up son from his first wife.”

Nikolaj took a bite from the fish in front of him. He hummed in approval as he nodded. “So? His first wife was repudiated, and their marriage declared null. He even refused to recognise that child as his son, claiming it was his Prime Minister’s. That’s old history.”

“But what if a faction preferred an adult son to a weak baby?”

Nikolaj frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

“Help a rightful king regain his throne. With some advantages, of course. I want the island of Kogere, you can have the bay of Sabvajent. What do you say?”

“An adult son will be harder to control than a baby. I say, let’s take what we want, and have the poor widow sign peace with us before we take everything from her and her child.”

“Attacking a widow will make the court united and the people ready to support her.”

“A son that the father himself did not recognise will not make the people eager to rally to his cause, nor the courtiers who were there when George repudiated his mother. I fear we will have to take Oerestand just to put him on the throne, and if we do that, why bother putting him there?”

“Hm.”

“Eat your fish before it gets cold.”

Francis snorted. “So…”

“So....”

“We wait? Perhaps the damned man recovers from his illness.” He grinned. “Maybe he will get so well that by October he will march against Bosilke again. Perhaps this time he will move against Quhjan. It’s practically defenceless now, isn’t it?” 

“No, it is not.” He’d left three regiments there, the same as in every other New Territory, and had allowed it to have an army again. He stopped eating; the thought of his darling’s home touched by war a second time in three years was too disturbing. His darling would be devastated. “You know that what you say only makes me more eager to start a war against them, instead of making me wait? Are you with me?”

“Let me think about it, and we will discuss this tomorrow.”

Since his Royal Brother was willing to consider his plan, he would also be understanding. “Your plan has merit,” he said. “I will also think about it and we will discuss it tomorrow.”

“Good.”

He tried eating one more bite, but his throat wouldn’t work. Francis had a point when he said that attacking a poor widow would make everyone rally to her cause. But putting an adult son who did not have the unanimous support of the people or the court and who might not be as grateful as Francis thought, was not ideal either. 

“What is wrong? You look like you swallowed a bone.”

“I am just thinking of my Most Gracious and Sweet Consort.”

Francis gave him a surprisingly sympathetic look. “I have put my fastest ship at your disposal. You will be at Valentin as fast as the winds can take you.”

“What if there are no winds?”

“Then you ride the tide. Worry not, you will get there in time.”

“I have to. Who knows where he will go next?” His darling had been flitting between countries and going off schedules as if someone was chasing him. He froze. What if someone wanted to hurt his darling, and Major Lesnev had learned about it and made them move so madly across the West in order to avoid them? No, that was a stupid idea. The Major and the Hundred Guards could handle any assassin. 

“This is like a comedy,” Francis laughed. 

“Is that a play?”

“Yes. I forgot. You have no theatre in Bosilke.” His smile widened. “Ah, if I only I had remembered earlier, I would have arranged for us to watch a play after dinner.”

“That is fine,” he lied. He would have liked to learn what theatre was before seeing his darling. 

“Ready for the next course?”

*&*&*

The discussion the following morning went as well as that of the previous evening. 

“Well,” Francis said as he put down his napkin and pushed aside his empty plate. 

“Well,” he agreed, taking a last sip of tea. 

“You can still have my fastest ship.”

“Thank you.” He stood up. “It was nice talking to you. We should be back by the end of next month.”

“You can take the ship and go for a cruise, for all I care,” Francis said as he stood up.

“How magnanimous of you.”

“Anything for my dear Brother.”

He smiled. 

They embraced. “This is stupid,” he whispered. “We should be in accord. Oerestand is our common enemy.”

“Who is currently doing nothing. Let sleeping dogs lie, Nikolaj.”

“Sleeping dogs wake up, and if you don’t have a big stick, they bite.” His darling had learnt that the hard way. 

They separated. “Safe travels, Brother.”

“Thank you for everything, Brother. No need to see me out.”

“I wouldn’t.” He grinned. “Anton, Our Son and Heir, will escort you to the harbour. He was most insistent.”

With a nod, Nikolaj left the room. Crown Prince Anton was waiting for him outside. He looked like his father, tall and fair and broad but had his mother’s black eyes. He smiled at him. 

“I was right,” Prince Anton told him immediately. “You are going to war against Oerestand. It is for getting access to the sea, isn’t it?”

“Whoever said that?”

“No one, but first Your Consort denied it vehemently, and now you are here, discussing something secret with my father. Last night you two were whispering to each other as if you were planning a tryst. So, what else could you be discussing but war?”

What an observant child. He truly was Francis’s son. “How to go from here to there, and how fast,” he smiled. 

“I’m not a child, and I am the Crown Prince. You should respect me.”

Nikolaj leaned over the young man. “Really?” he said in a low voice.

“Really,” the prince shouted, looking straight at him. 

What a brave little prince he was. Nikolaj laughed. “And what if I were talking about war with your Father?”

“Against Oerestand?” he asked excitedly. 

“Perhaps?”

“Then, I would say, let’s go and give those bastards a lesson!”

He grinned. “My dear Prince, what do you think war is?”

“It is the game of kings,” he told him excitedly. “The field where men fight for their honour.”

He smiled. “I used to think the same, that war was I had to do because I was a king. Now, I know better.”

“So, what is war?”

“A means to an end. A weapon in a king’s armoury, but not his purpose.”

“Then… why do you want to go to war against Oerestand?”

This time he did not deny it. “Because We need access to the sea. Having a harbour would be to the benefit of Our people.” He smiled widely. “How lucky we all are that I no longer wish to fight,” he said loudly. It never hurt to behave as if there were spies everywhere, even outside a Hall where only his escorts, Prince Anton with his Guards and he were. 

“Eh?”

“If We were to take up arms against Oerestand, We would do it for Our people. Yet, we have no such wishes. We only want to go to Valentin and be with Our Darling Consort.” He put his hand over his heart, playing with the little swan. “Our Peerless Jewel, Our Priceless Treasure, Our…”

Prince Anton started laughing. “I get it, I get it.” He put his hand on Nikolaj’s arm as if they were old friends. “I know I am young compared to you.”

Nikolaj stayed as quiet as possible when he heard that. Prince Anton was almost half his age, and yet he spoke as if Nikolaj was ancient. 

“But I can understand you. If I had such a Consort, I too would go after her, if she left me.” 

This time Nikolaj couldn’t help but snort. “My Darling did not leave me.”

“He certainly seemed happy enough to be away from Bosilke,” Prince Anton said with a smirk that suddenly faded. “And he was most happy when he was here, at the sea.” He stared at him. “Your Majesty, you have a Consort for whom you would fight a war, don’t you?”

He nodded as his fingers closed around the jewel. 

“I will persuade my father to join your campaign against Oerestand, and I will do it no matter what it costs me. But you must promise me one thing.”

“If it is within my power to grant it.”

“It is. You must promise me that you will not go further than Oerestand.”

Nikolaj frowned for a second. Why… Of course. Yastba was the next harbour after Sabvajent, and almost as close as that Oerestand bay. Ustvela itself was only slightly bigger than Quhjan, and even though it had a fleet, its army, modern though it was, was no bigger than that of Quhjan. If he wanted, and set his eyes on Ustvela, he could have it. 

“Your country and mine are tied by bonds of friendship and alliance that have lasted for generations,” he said seriously. “I would not break them to make Our Most Peerless Consort happy. Besides,” he smiled, “Would Our Consort be Most Peerless if he allowed Us to break alliances? Our Consort is far too honourable. He would accept a war against an age-old enemy but never against a friend. And I do want to make him happy, as you realise.”

Prince Anton nodded slowly. “Yes, Your Consort is honourable. I saw that with my own eyes.” 

Nikolaj offered Prince Anton his hand. “I solemnly promise you not to attack Ustvela, especially not for a petty reason such as making my Darling happy.” What a strange thought. Though, Prince Anton did have a point; Yastba was only slightly further to their Empire than Sabvajent and they could take it… he shook his head. “What an idea,” he grinned. “My dear Prince, why don’t you show Us your famous sea, that made Our Darling happy, as you escort Us to the ship? And tell Us honestly, did he really seem glad to be away from home?”

*&*&

Nikolaj looked at the point where the sky met the sea. He couldn’t tell where one ended and the other started.

“Ah, darling,” he sighed, and took out his notebook where he had started writing his Thoughts to His Darling since he’d started on this journey.

_17th of Sweet Month, first day of the trip to Deep Port,_

_My Love,_

_You were right. The SEA is MARVELLOUS. It is never the same and it is endless._

_Do you love it more than me?_

_I was apprehensive that I too would feel this sea sickness you described in your letter, but nothing has affected me so far._

_I admit that I find it a bit boring, sitting here doing nothing. I wish you were here to tell me how you passed the time._

He put the pencil in its case and closed the notebook before turning to his secretary and his under-secretary. “Gentlemen, how do you feel about a little game of cards to pass the time?” He grinned. “Worry not, we will only play for trifles.” How on earth had his darling convinced his entire court that gambling for sweetmeats as if they were children was more fun than gambling for money, he would never know, but he didn’t mind. “Just a second.” He opened his notebook again and took out his pencil.

 _Darling, I can understand how you could make Your Court play for trifles, but how did you make MINE agree to that? You must tell me._

“Now, we can play,” he grinned as he put the notebook back in his coat’s pocket.


	26. Chapter 26

Elik looked at the stage, waiting for the curtains to rise. 

“This is a play about the triumph of constancy,” King Richard told him with a smile. “Clorinda is in love with a rake, and… No, I will not divulge any more details. You will see for yourself.”

“Thank you.”

The curtain rose slowly, revealing a garden with statues and a bench. Ah, so this took place in the past! Or a rich man’s garden. A person in yellow, flowing robes walked on the stage. There was something weird about them; they were a bit too small, a bit too delicate, a bit too… They took out a letter and held it against their bosom. 

“Janus writes that he will come at seven, yet it is seven-thirty and he is still not here,” SHE sighed.

Elik felt his eyes widen in shock. A woman! On stage! How…. Oh! How marvellous this was! He knew that women could do everything that men could, but he could never imagine that a woman would act! 

Irina turned towards him with the same surprise in her expression that he too had. “It’s a woman,” she whispered excitedly.

He nodded, wondering. Did this mean that here, at Aedley, there were also WOMEN SINGERS? He’d ask, later. Or… who cared if there were or weren’t? He’d just had the best idea ever. 

He’d get the Ladies to act and sing and dance! That would entertain them. He’d have new plays written for them, full of romance and adventure, just as they liked. He’d ask his Guards if they would be up to the task… Or maybe he could get more of His Husband’s Guards? 

He was certain that between learning the plays and rehearsing with his Guards, the Ladies would be kept busy enough to stop plotting and harassing him. Yes, this really was the best idea he’d had during all this trip. 

He smiled at Irina and held her hand. “Sister, this is just wonderful.” Oh, how wonderful.

And how absurd. He didn’t even know if he could go back, and yet he was thinking how to keep the Ladies busy. How strange it was, being human. Even when the future was uncertain, life pulled him forward. 

&*&*

“Sire, the play was marvellous. Thank you for inviting me to see it.”

“I am glad you enjoyed it. I hope you will not mind joining Us for a while longer. It is Our custom to congratulate the actors after a successful play, and share a drink with them.”

He glanced at Vasily, who gave him the tiniest of nods. 

Irina curtsied to the King. “May I also join you?”

“Erm…” King Richard looked more uncomfortable than when the steward disguised as a bull had tried to rape Clorinda’s maid. 

“It’s late, My Lady,” Lady Olga, the Ambassador’s daughter, said very quietly. “We should return home.”

He nodded. “Yes, you have to be up early tomorrow so we can attend a lecture at the university.”

Irina glared at him. “You are going to a Party, aren’t you?” she hissed in Quhjani. “I will be old enough one day, Brother!”

“And when you are, you may join us,” he replied in their language. As if he would ever let that happen. “My sister bids you good night, Sire. Lady Olga, thank you for looking after Her Excellency.”

Irina gave the King her most charming smile. “Good night, Sire.” She looked about to say something, when Vanya offered her his arm. “Fine,” she muttered in Quhjani. “Good night, Brother. Don’t get too drunk.”

“Worry not,” Vanya started telling her as he led her out of the Royal box, while Pieterjan followed her, after offering his arm to Lady Olga.

“I love the theatre,” said King Richard as he leaned on the parapet and looked down. “Everyone comes here. See? From poor students to laywers to courtesans,” he said as he nodded slightly towards them, the student in the ragged grey robes, the lawyer in his expensive but drab coat, the girl between them in the white, gauzy dress. “Even Kings,” he laughed. “And everyone stands next to the other. That student who can’t afford more than a single meal during the day can sit next to Gwen the Graceful, and who knows what he tried to do in the darkness, and what she allowed.”

“I like the plays,” Elik said. “Everything ends neatly. In a comedy, the bad get punished and the lovers get united. In a drama, the bad first triumph and then fail, and the lovers die. In life… everything is so complicated in life,” he sighed. 

“Surely not for us,” the King grinned. 

“For everyone, including kings and princes.” He smiled. “Forgive me. This play about Clorinda’s constancy has put me in a strange mood.” Not that he needed the play to be in a strange mood. How he missed His Husband. How he wanted to know if he still had his Husband. 

King Richard nodded as if he understood. “Let us go, then, and congratulate the performers for their good work.”

He nodded and followed him out, their guards opening the way for them. “I heard one can attend a session in the Parliament. Is that so?”

“Why would you want to do that? The Parliament is nothing but a room full of men who shout over each other, and who only agree on one thing: that a king should be seen but not heard. Your Majesty is lucky; you can do as you will.”

“Can the will of one be wiser than the will of many?”

The King frowned as he studied him. “I don’t know,” he answered, “but, a state is like a ship. It should have one captain. Here, we have many, and the ship never stays on course.”

Elik nodded. “But a captain’s unwise decision can cause the ship to sink.”

“So, what is better? A ship with a captain who may sink it out of ignorance or wilfulness, or a ship that flounders and doesn’t progress because its captains can’t agree where to go?” He laughed. “And, what does it matter what we think? You’re the captain’s wife, and I’m the one watching the captains run around the deck. All we can do, is do our job, and do it well.”

“So, we should not consider our positions, and think philosophically about them?”

The King continued laughing. “You talk like a student, not like a prince. Thought is a dangerous thing for us, my young friend. Too much thought and then we think that we can take over the ship.” His expression darkened. “And you know what happened to my Grandfather when he thought that he could take over the ship.”

“Yes.” The Parliament’s Rebellion was notorious, but so was King Roderick’s attempt to rule without the Parliament. “Forgiv…”

“Forget it,” the King smiled. “You are young, and young people either run around with swords, or they think. One day, you will understand what I mean.”

“I hope that day comes soon,” he whispered. “I must correct you in this, though. I would never think of taking over My Lord’s ship. Ah, I miss him so much,” he sighed. 

King Richard grinned. “Perhaps our little amusements can make you miss him a little less?” 

One of his guards opened a door to a brightly-lit room. Men and women were drinking and talking together. Elik recognised several of the courtiers he’d been introduced to, dressed in expensive and flamboyant garments, men he hadn’t seen before, dressed in even fancier clothes, and the actresses. He recognised the lead, still in her yellow costume. It was even more gauzy up close than it had seemed from the stage. 

Everyone stopped the moment the King entered and raised their glass to him. The lead actress smiled at him. “To the health of our Good Lord and Sovereign,” she almost sang, so musical her tone was. She took a drink and came to them. “My Lord,” she smiled. 

The King embraced her by the waist and kissed her on the cheek. “My lovely Lady. This is Anne Smith, the brightest star in the night sky of Aedley.” He grinned. “This is Count Berezin, who is really my Royal Brother-in-law, and suffers from longing for his Husband.”

She looked at him shocked. “A Husband who misses his Husband?”

“Yes.” The King turned towards him. “Do husbands and wives live together at Bosilke?”

“Usually not, but we do,” he replied, looking around. Everyone had gone back to talking with their partners. 

“You live together?” King Richard pretended to be shocked. “I can’t imagine living in the same palace as my Queen. That is the secret to a long and happy marriage: that husbands and wives lead separate lives and see each other rarely. She’s happy to do as she pleases, and so can I,” he said and kissed Anne on the mouth. 

“That’s exactly what the Bosilik believe,” Elik smiled. But his Husband used to be pleased with him, and couldn’t bear to be away from him. And Nikolaj indulged him so, that he even let him follow Quhjani customs in their private rooms, and allowed Elik to take care of him. He sighed. How he longed to divest His Husband of his clothes and caress him and…

“I believe our dear Count suffers from love-sickness,” Anne said, smiling. “I’ve played the part often enough to recognise the symptoms.” She slipped out of the King’s embrace. “If I may, I can offer him some of the remedies at hand?”

King Richard nodded. “But be back as soon as you have found the right cure for our dear Count.”

“Of course, Sire.”

She leaned close to him. “You have drawn the attention of many a lord and lady, but I guess that none of them will do, since you miss your Husband so terribly.”

“Yes, that is true.”

She led him to a different room where men and women were either seated around tables playing cards or were standing and watching the players. “After a lover’s embrace, only the excitement of cards can make one forget everything.” She pointed at a side, where he could see a fashionable bar, with bottles arranged neatly on the shelves behind the barman. “And alcohol always helps. Have you tried gin?”

Elik nodded. “Yes, and I did not like it much.” In fact, he had hated it only a little less than he had hated ‘living water.’

“I am certain there is something you will like here,” she said as she led him to the bar. “I must see how my Lord is doing, but I will be back to check your progress. Ed, start a tab for Count Berezin.” With a pleasant smile, she left him and hurried across the room. 

Ed the Barman nodded. “So, gin for the Count?”

He shook his head and turned to Adrian and Bela. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed. 

Adrian shrugged and Bela grinned. “Duty comes first.”

Didn’t he know it? He turned to Vasily. “This is like an evening at My Husband’s Court. Only, instead of slaves there are actresses and they wear fewer and more revealing clothes. I did not care much for that entertainment then, and I care even less for it now. Can we go?” He suddenly remembered that the Major used to be part of His Husband’s Court before he became Head of his Special Guards. “Or… If you have missed it, we can stay.”

Vasily shook his head. “I can play cards at the Embassy. Also, I have been on a losing streak. I think it’s better if I stopped playing for now,” he said with a smile. 

Elik stared at him. “Do you… I know it is not my place to say this, and it is a personal matter, but, please, let me know if you need help paying any debts.”

Vasily’s smile became softer. “Your Majesty, thank you.” He grinned. “But I only play for money with people other than the Guards, and the last one was the Purser of the Sea Nymph. With the Guards, we only play for trifles. So, I am fairly confident I can manage paying my debt of a kilo of walnuts to Gregory and of two dozens of eggs to Fyodor. And if Fyodor makes a cake before Gregory, then I will win the bet I placed against Vanya and gain three new handkerchiefs,” he laughed, as if his bet was the most exciting of them all. “Besides, even if I wanted to play here,” he continued, “I don’t think I could afford it. Did you notice the amount of coins on each table? I would be foolish to join this lot.”

“Ah.” Elik did want the Major to have fun, but even if he were happy to cover his debts, he was not that happy about providing him with money to waste on gambling. 

“Your Majesty is right,” Vasily nodded as he had another look around. “Gambling is the road to ruin. I’d rather play for more walnuts. If you are ready to retire, then let us go back. Who knows, perhaps the Guards are entertaining themselves with music.”

He hoped so. This was as boring as it could get.


	27. Chapter 27

Just as his darling had written, the commercial port of Deep Port was truly large. They sailed past it and he marvelled at the size of some the merchant ships there. Oh, how he would love to have his own port. One that would be even larger than Deep Port’s. 

His darling’s letter, though, had not prepared him about how truly charming the Royal Harbour of Deep Port was. At first it was wide, but then it narrowed, leading into the city. The area around the first part of the harbour was open and paved, as if it was in the middle of a town square. As the harbour narrowed, so did the paved court become a paved street, lined by taverns and inns, each building painted a different colour. In the sunny morning, the sea glittered and the buildings looked like open flowers. It was beautiful. 

The ship slid into the wide part of the harbour and began mooring. Nikolaj noticed that his Royal Brother was there to greet him, a tall figure in clothes that shone with gold and a wide-brimmed feathered hat, surrounded by mounted guards that wore a uniform that looked quite familiar. 

He left the ship, smiling as his Royal Brother came to approach him.

“Brother,” Hans Ulrich embraced him.

“Brother,” he embraced him back. “Thank you for receiving me.”

“It is Our pleasure.” He pointed at his guards. “What do you think of this? We had a new uniform made for Our guards after seeing Your guards.”

He grinned. “I think it suits them wonderfully.”

The King led him into his carriage. “I hope you will accept Our hospitality.”

What prank would the lecher play on him? He was curious and excited at the same time, and he nodded in agreement. “With pleasure.”

The carriage turned into a wide street and from there into a wide courtyard where it stopped. His darling had not said quite how close to the royal harbour was to the palace. The palace itself was white, and looked quite small compared to Ivanhof, but also new. 

As they stepped inside, he felt that Ivanhof was not only old, but also dark and oppressive, compared to this palace. The walls were pale and decorated with gilded stucco that looked delicate, and the windows were tall and large, letting the light flood the rooms. 

“I hope you won’t mind my showing you to your room first, so you can rest before dinner.”

“No, of course not,” he said, trying not to laugh and wondering if Hans Ulrich would present him with the kind of ‘gift’ he’d offered to his darling. Perhaps not. None of the man’s courtiers were around, and who would want to prepare a prank if no one was there to see it? That was a disappointing thought. 

“I expect this is not just a social visit and that we will have much to talk about at dinner,” Hans Ulrich continued, making him think that there would be no surprises for him after all. 

“Indeed, but let us talk about what needs to be discussed at dinner.”

“Of course. Here we are.” One of his servants opened a door for them. “Do you like this?” Hans Ulrich told him pleasantly. 

His room was beautifully appointed, but his attention was drawn immediately to the tall, blond man waiting for him on the bed. He was naked and had an inviting smile. 

“For me?” He smiled. 

“Indeed,” Hans Ulrich grinned. His eyes were shining, no doubt wondering what he would do next. 

Well, he was not his easily-turned-speechless darling. “Thank you,” he said most enthusiastically, as he started undoing his breeches. “It’s been a while since I was last with a blond.”

Hans Ulrich stared at him. Or rather, his hand. The blond’s smile faltered. He tried not to laugh. Had no one ever accepted Hans Ulrich’s ‘gift’? What fools. That blond man was as gorgeous as any of his darling’s Guards.

When he freed his cock, Hans Ulrich gasped. The blond shook his head, said something in Storjordi as he grabbed his clothes from the floor, and ran out of the room.

“Hey, where are you going?” He didn’t attempt to stop the young man as he ran past them, but he did turn to his Royal Brother. “Well, that was disappointing. Now I’ll have to rest alone.”

Hans Ulrich was still staring at his dick. 

“It won’t reply no matter how much you stare at it,” Nikolaj told him with a grin. “And it is real. Do you want to touch it?”

Hans Ulrich shook his head and looked up. “You are very gifted,” he told him with awe. 

He tucked himself in. “I know,” he said smugly. “Please, don’t be harsh on that young man. He’s not the first one to feel fear at the sight of my ‘weapon’, although he is the first who ran away just like that,” he laughed. “Good one, Brother,” he continued. 

“I’m glad you were amused,” Hans Ulrich laughed as well. “Get some rest, Brother. I have arranged for a little entertainment for us after dinner.”

“I’m excited already.” He stroked himself over his clothes. “Well, more excited than I already am.” 

Hans Ulrich laughed heartily. “It is a small play called ‘The torments of young love’, about an old man who marries a young woman who can’t sit still.”

Nikolaj wondered if he should be offended or amused. He wasn’t that old, but he knew that his darling couldn’t sit still at all, especially when there was music and dancing involved. “Was this inspired by a true story?”

“Of course not. If it were, the man would be in his prime and his young love would be unable to sit, let alone dance all night.” 

He grinned. His darling complained more about how difficult it was to ride after he’d been ridden hard, not about dancing. Ah, how he missed him. 

&*&*

Despite what his darling had written, Hans Ulrich’s table manners were impeccable. He was also a most gracious host keeping the discussion so light that Nikolaj did not want to start the discussion he really wanted to have. 

“It is Our habit to have coffee in a different room,” Hans Ulrich told him after they had finished dessert. He stood up and Nikolaj followed him to a room at the side of the dining hall. That too was charmingly and sparingly appointed, with only a few chairs around a table and a small sofa with a side table next to it. 

When coffee was served together with a platter of deliciously fragrant biscuits, they were left alone. Hans Ulrich smiled pleasantly at him. “What brings you here, Brother?” 

“My desire to get my Consort home. I have missed him,” he sighed. 

“If he were my Consort, I would have missed him too,” Hans Ulrich grinned, “Even though he did compete with Us in the art of giving parties. I even tried to stop him from upstaging me, but in the end, I joined his party, not he mine.”

Nikolaj grinned as well. “He did write that he was made to stay at the shipyards. That was you who gave that order?” He had suspected that. 

“Of course. This is my city. No one should give better parties than me, but Our Royal Brother-in-Law is the exception. He is allowed to give parties, provided I am invited and can play with…” His smile widened even further. “Ah, those guards of his!”

He nodded. “They are magnificent, aren’t they?” He was so tempted to ask how they had performed. 

“Indeed,” Hans Ulrich’s voice trailed off. “Having such a fun-loving and polite young… count here reminded Us that We have been single for far too long. It is time We married again.”

“Yes, being single is not as fun as being married. Mistresses just don’t have the same presence as a Main Consort, don’t you agree?”

“I suppose if one has the same mistress for years, she could gain almost the same prestige as a spouse and consort, but why keep a mistress for years when you can have a new one every few months?”

“I agree. Of course, that is also the only argument for keeping mistresses. When you are tired of them, you can change them. A Spouse and Consort you have to keep for life.” He smiled. Not that he expected to ever tire of his darling. 

“Yes.” He chuckled. “If you find an accommodating wife, like my Maria Carolina, then keeping her for life is not a problem.” His expression turned soft. “While she was alive, I never really cared for her, but since she passed away, I realised how good she was to me. If she had given me an heir, my happiness with her would have been complete.” Hans Ulrich stopped in order to have some coffee. “But enough of that. You did not stop here to hear that your Spouse and Consort likes partying nor that I should get married again. What do you want?”

“Your alliance in my war against Oerestand.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Strike when the iron is hot. While the new king’s court is in turmoil, we attack. I will hit them by land, while you attack from the sea.”

“Hm. They still hold Sandby,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t mind being the king who liberated that piece of Storjord from our enemies.” He offered his hand to Nikolaj. “Fine. You have it.”

Nikolaj clasped his hand between his and smiled at him. If only dealing with Francis had been that easy. 

&*&*

_at the same time at Valentin, however_

Alexandre glared at his brother. “I don’t understand why you are being so obnoxious,” he hissed, even though no one could hear them in that part of the garden. 

“Because I’m trying to maintain some standards in Our Court. You can’t go to Lanault to greet a count, no matter how he is not a count.”

“The Duke of Bennington did.”

“Just because he did that at Aedley does not mean you should do it here.” 

“But he’s not coming as a Count here, but as His Majesty.”

His brother stopped and glared at him. “Alexandre Louis Henri,” he said in a stern tone, as if the use of his full name was not indicative that he was being serious, “Your behaviour is shameless enough already. You think I haven’t been reading the reports that your ‘brothers’ have been sending you? You think I don’t know what you are after? Well, I l know, and I tell you that you can’t go running after another man’s Husband.”

“You keep running after other men’s wives,” Alexandre huffed. 

“Alexandre! How dare you?”

“How dare I say the truth?” 

They kept staring at each other until his brother looked down. “Fine, you can go at Lanault to greet him and escort him here. But don’t expect any other help from me.”

“I won’t need anything else, don’t worry.”

His brother sat down on the marble bench. “What’s so special about him? He’s just a man, and we have plenty of those here,” he snorted. 

“Well…” He sat down next to his brother. “He’s pretty.”

“That’s it?”

He sat down as well and looked at the fountain in the middle of the little room created by the tall hedges that they were in. “I like that he can be married to a man.”

“Alexandre,” his brother said in a low, warning voice, “not this again. Marriage between men is wrong.”

“It wasn’t wrong until you said so,” Alexandre protested once more. He held his tongue before saying that the true reason he had made not just marriage between men, but also being a ‘brother’ and loving men illegal was because he hoped that it would bring the blessing of the gods in his marriage bed. Ten years and no children with his Queen was a difficult pill to swallow for his brother, especially since all the children from his mistresses technically belonged to their husbands.

“How will the gods bless Our marriage bed when men are allowed to be with men and spill their seed uselessly across the land?” His brother said it for him. 

“Perhaps you need a different Queen,” he sighed. “We know you can have children. Little Antoine is the spitting image of you.”

His brother smiled proudly. “He is, isn’t he? And he’s so clever too. As for a new Queen? I can’t divorce her. Thur-and-Foir will turn against me if I do.” He huffed. “I must say, I envy Our Royal Brother Nikolaj. By marrying a nobody, a former slave at that, he can divorce him as easily as he pleases.”

Alexandre grinned. “If the Emperor were to divorce him, could we offer the Swan a home here? Just a small castle outside Sorain, and have him move to court?”

Charles laughed. “If you still want him after meeting him, and the Emperor divorces him, then yes. But you won’t get any other help from me.”

Alexandre grinned. “Fine. Thank you for your generosity, Brother.”

Charles suddenly hugged him by the shoulders. “I know this is not easy for you, and when I have an heir, things will change again. Please, be patient, my dear Brother.”

Alexandre smiled. He was nothing but patience itself! When had he ever waited for months just to glimpse at a man? “I should get that in writing, Brother.”

Charles snorted and ruffled his hair. “You’d wish, Brother.” He let him go and stood up. “It’s almost ten. I should go back and fulfil my marital duties. The doctor said We must lie with Our Queen twice a day.”

Alexandre nodded as he followed his brother. “Of course. May you be successful in your endeavour.”

“May the gods bless Us,” his brother said. “And if not, you know what you must do once your wife gives birth.”

“Of course.” He really hoped the gods would bless his brother’s marriage bed. He didn’t want to raise the next king of Valentin. That would be too much burden on his child, but him too. He’d probably have to stop going to clubs if he were raising a future king. 

He wondered how the Emperor planned on dealing with his lack of heirs. Not that he would ask the Swan that; he wasn’t that insensitive. No, he had other things he wanted to ask the Swan. 

*&*&

_meanwhile at the Bosilke Embassy_

Elik looked up at the brilliantly lit windows of the Embassy’s Great Hall. His bad mood instantly left him. He turned to his Guards. “Look, they are still up.”

Irina smiled. “Then why are we still here?” 

“I don’t know.” He got out of the carriage and smiled at the Embassy Guards at the entrance. “When you are off duty tomorrow, please join us for breakfast,” he told them even though he knew they could not respond either with a word or a nod while they were on duty. “I want to hear about your life at Aedley.” He gave them a little nod. “Thank you.”

He hurried up the stairs to the first floor, and opened the door to the Great Hall, surprised to see them in choir formation. “What is going on?”

“We are practicing for Valentin.”

“Ah, yes.” He turned towards Master Anton. “Is that going well?”

“Very well. I will be interviewing a few people tomorrow to help with the lyrics, but I think we are getting close to finalising the piece.”

“Wonderful.”

Irina glanced back, at the Ambassador’s daughter. “Lady Olga, thank you for accompanying me tonight,” she told her very politely. 

“It was my pleasure, My Lady.”

Both girls turned towards him with the same pleading expression. 

He looked at them, trying not to glare at Vanya and Pieterjan for allowing them to attend their party the previous night. He had been so shocked to come back from the theatre and find his sister and Lady Olga dancing with the Guards. That party, however, had not been as wild as any of their previous parties, and his Guards had been more than gallant and charming; they had been perfection itself. Perhaps having the two young ladies attend would not be such a bad idea. 

Still, he turned towards Vasily, and only when he nodded, he nodded as well. He couldn’t have people attend without the approval of his Master of Ceremonies. 

They hugged each other, speaking very fast and laughing excitedly for a few moments, before sitting down and staring at the Choir. 

Sometimes, he forgot how young his sister was, and how far away from all her female friends he’d taken her. 

Master Anton bowed to them. “Ladies’ choice,” he smiled at them. 

They turned and started their excited discussion again. 

Elik walked back and leaned against the wall, watching them all. How boring it was to be an old noble, especially a female one. If he could, he would change so many things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love completely unashamed and willfully inappropriate Nikolaj! :)


	28. Chapter 28

Gennady thrust his sword forward. Elik lowered his, and countered the stroke from below. Gennady stepped back and…

“Your Ma… Excellency…” Dima panted loudly from the door of the Embassy’s fencing hall, and they stopped where they stood. Dima waved a letter. “Urgent,” he gasped. “From His Majesty.”

Elik handed his sword to Gennady, grabbed the towel that Vanya threw at him, and, wiping his hands and face, hurried to Dima. What was the meaning of this? His Husband never wrote him Urgent Letters, although he knew that he sent his letters as fast as could be done. He took the letter and sat on the closest bench, opening it. 

The imperial purple scared him for a moment, but then he started reading. 

_Ivanhof, 22nd of Spring,_

_Our most Gracious, Wonderful, Perfect Consort of Imperial Rank,_

He sighed with relief. His Husband wouldn’t call him that if he were mad, would he?

_We are mad. We are mad that You dare think You are a problem to Us, when You are Our Most Magnificent and Brilliant Challenge, and We LOVE challenges._

He sighed deeply, realising he had been holding his breath for a few moments. His Husband wasn’t mad at him, even though he wrote he was. No, no, he wasn’t. 

_We are mad that You thought for a moment that there is a choice for Us. If We have to burn Our whole garden to rid it of the poisonous plants, We will do it._

“Husband,” he whispered, shocked and delighted and relieved. “You would? For me?” 

_We are mad that You did not confide in Us how Our courtiers were treating you, for then We would have told You that You are Our Empress, and You can punish those who dare offend You as You please._

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he muttered as he continued reading.

_But most of all, We are mad with love. We are suffering in the cold, while You burn away from Us._

_Our Dearest, Most Beloved and Honoured Spouse and Consort, We fear that Your fire will consume You one day. Please, calm Yourself and be patient until You are back to Us. Then You can burn Us._

_Nikolaj I_

He smiled. “Oh, Husband, if you want it so much,” he said. He forced himself to continue reading the rest of the letter, that was written in the usual black ink and was quite long. 

_p.s. My Love, My Darling, My Elik,_

_The Chiefs of the two police forces are being VERY thorough. They are currently investigating a few of the Ladies in relation to the unfortunate event of the 5th, but, officially, I have no knowledge of this. They fear I will order their execution before the interrogation is complete, and… I am afraid they are right. So, we both must wait patiently until they have apprehended all the conspirators, and give me an official report._

_After receiving your letter, I looked at your side-table, and found your box. I broke it. As you would say, Sorry, I’m not sorry. Since you have been so honest with me, so will I. I was angry at you that you kept it from me. I was annoyed that you were so stupid not to have told me what bothered you. And I couldn’t understand, why did you not confide in me? Didn’t I always treat you with kindness? Didn’t you always treat me with fearlessness? Or did you not want to burden me? Husband, I am still angry at you. You should have talked to me, but… since you yourself know that your behaviour was stupid, why should I berate you more? You probably feel guilty enough already._

_I have instituted a new task force, the Office of Secret Affairs. From now on, no one will be above suspicion, and everyone will be watched carefully for any signs of treason. Your letter describing the coffee houses of Krzydzov and how people gathered there for discussing everything, also gave me another idea. We will also allow coffee and tea houses to open in the cities, with the owners in the pay of the Office of Secret Affairs. Tavern and inn keepers will also be paid by this Office. I mean it, darling. No one will escape Our watchful eyes. No one will offend Us._

_Artemi already has samples of the writing of everyone at Ivanhof since that other unfortunate event, so he is confident that he will be able to find who were the thrice-cursed sons of  
whores who sent you that utter and disgusting filth. I fear he will take his time, as he really insists on being thorough, but when he is finished, believe me, NO ONE, ABSOLUTELY NO ONE will escape their punishment. _

_I meant it, darling. If I have to burn down Ivanhof with everyone in it to make it a place you can live, I will do it._

_Fear not – I will remove the books first. Then I will burn it._

_Now, My Love, My Darling, My Husband, will you stop worrying? Will you try to be happy? Not for me, but for you? Darling, please, be at ease. All this will pass and before you know it, you will return home, to a garden with no poisonous flowers, and a gardener who will be ever-vigilant. Until it’s time to come home, dance your way across the west, buy as many books you want, and shock everyone with your endorsement of common folk music. Do they think we are uncultivated and uncultured barbarians here?_

_Although, I suspect you and your merry men are making everyone jealous. You have the handsomest and most musically talented and athletically gifted men of Our Empire with you. I wouldn’t be surprised if soon we will start having people travel to Our Land just to see if the rest of us are just as handsome._

_Forever yours, Your Gardener,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. I do not want to reply to your second post-scriptum. Not with words, anyway. When we are together, I will give you my reply. Although, surely you must guess it. You are not the only one suffering from this sweet torment, nor the only one welcoming it._

_When we are together again, let’s both burn in the fire of our passion, and then be born again, united in even stronger bonds of love._

He shuddered. 

“What’s wrong?” Vasily asked him with obvious worry.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he whispered, his throat closed with emotion. 

“Then why are you crying?”

Was he? “Am I?” He lifted his free hand and touched his face, surprised that it was wet. “I am.” He sniffled and smiled. “Everything is fine. Everything is fine.” He looked up. Everything was really fine. His Husband loved him and he was going to help him and he didn’t mind that he would no longer be as quiet as he should be. His Husband had accepted him and his terms and he could go home! He looked down and saw that the Guards that were in the Hall were all gathered around him and were staring at him with concern. 

“I’m fine,” he grinned. “My Husband loves me,” he laughed. “He loves me!” he said even more loudly, his happiness suddenly overwhelming. His Husband loved him. 

Vasily looked back towards the others, rolling his eyes up and throwing his hands up in the air as if to say that was the stupidest thing he had ever heard, and he couldn’t even talk about it. 

“That was it?” Vanya snorted. 

Roman nodded. “His Majesty is crazy about you,” he said. “Everyone knows he loves you.”

Strangely, their gentle teasing didn’t make him embarrassed. “You don’t understand,” he told them seriously. “I told him that if he refused to listen to me, I would not go back. That’s a little treasonous, isn’t it?”

Most of the men frowned, but Vasily’s expression remained calm. Suddenly, he broke into loud laughter. 

“What is it?” He asked when it was obvious that whenever Vasily was trying to stop and explain himself, he’d look at him and he’d resume laughing wildly. 

“Oh, Your Majesty,” Vasily finally wheezed, “When I told you to do what every other wife does when her husband doesn’t listen to her, I had no idea you would take it to this level.” He started laughing again. “You’ve out-wifed all the wives.” 

After a moment of frowning, Vanya started laughing too. 

Elik felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, so he started wiping his tears with the corner of the towel. 

“Won’t you let us in on the joke?” Roman asked, seemingly annoyed. 

“What do wives do when their husbands don’t listen?” Vasily managed to gasp.

“They nag?”

“What else?” Vanya asked. 

Evgeni grinned. “I know. They say ‘I have a headache.”

Vasily shook his head, smiling. 

“They move to a different room,” Gennady chuckled. “Or tell their husbands to sleep elsewhere.”

“And we have a winner,” Vasily grinned. “Only, Our Young Lord moved to a different country instead of a different room.”

“A little further and it would be to a different continent,” Aron snorted. 

Elik hid his face behind his hands for a moment. “It wasn’t like that,” he whispered. 

Vasily and the others all nodded. At a gesture from Roman, they sang together. “Yes, it was.”

He laughed. “Maybe a little,” he smiled. Perhaps it really was as simple as that; he was frustrated that His Husband wasn’t listening to him, and so he fled. “But he loves me,” he grinned. “He loves me,” he repeated, his grin turning into laughter again. 

Vasily groaned. “Was there ever any doubt?”

Elik looked down as he thought about it. He was not the best of wives, although he tried so hard to be good. He was stubborn, and he didn’t believe in slavery, or the precedence of the Bosilik over the people of the Empire, he thought that the people of the New Territories should pay the same taxes as the Bosilik, and…. 

“Oh, My Dear Husband,” Vanya suddenly broke the silence.

Elik looked up. Oh, no. 

Vasily began clapping to the tune. 

“My Dear Husband, busy all day,” the others joined in the fast-paced song, clapping to keep the rhythm. “My Dear Husband, he’s busy all day. He doesn’t listen to me.”

Maxim grabbed Gennady by the arm and started dancing to it, laughing.

“He cuts the quills, he fills the inks, he writes and stamps reports all day.”

Anatoly winked at him and offered Elik his arm. 

“He reads reports and files replies and archives letters all day.” 

Why not? He put down His Husband’s letter, took Anatoly’s arm and they started whirling around, laughing. 

“My Dear Husband, aren’t you tired of work? My Dear Husband, come and drink. My Dear Husband, come and eat.”

They broke up for a moment and then all four linked arms and resumed dancing in a circle, faster and faster, trying to dance as fast as the singers. 

“My Dear Husband, come to me,” Roman said in his deep voice, “Don’t be busy all day.”

Laughing, they all stopped. 

“I like this song,” Maxim said, “but from now I’ll be thinking of His Majesty in his office, while our Young Lord sings this in the kitchens while chopping up animals to make meat jelly.”

It was quite a ridiculous image, and Elik snorted. “Actually, Master Dmitri is very strict about what happens in his kitchens. He does not allow any talking, much less singing.”

Maxim shook his head, pretending to be disappointed. 

“I am still impressed,” Vasily said. “From now on, you will be our Teacher of Love,” he told Elik. “Whenever we have problems with our darlings, we will come to you for advice.”

“I’m hardly an expert.” He glanced back at His Husband’s letter. “And I need to reply to My Husband.”

For some reason, that made them laugh until Vasily raised his hand and they fell quiet. “When you are finished, we can go for a ride with the barge.”

“We can? Thank you.” He grabbed His Husband’s letter, kissed it and ran up out of the Hall, ignoring how they had started laughing again, possibly because he was acting so madly. So what if they laughed? His Husband loved him!

He ran along the corridor and, on his way up, he crossed Irina leading Oleg down the stairs. “He loves me,” he shouted at her as he continued running. 

“What?”

“Nikolaj. He loves me,” he laughed. “He does.”

“He does?” She sounded surprised. “You mean, you had me worried for nothing? Eli? Come back here!”

He ignored her and shut himself in his room. “Oh, My Love,” he whispered, kissing his letter one more time before running to the desk. He dipped his quill hastily in the inkpot and started writing.

_Bosilke Embassy at Aedley, 22nd of Sweet Month,_

_My LOVE,_

_If you were here, I would give you a thousand kisses. Since you are not, I can only kiss your letter and imagine that I am kissing you. Oh, My Love!_

_My Love, My Heart, My Dearest Husband, My Nikolaj, My Sun, you love me! And I can come home to you! The further away I have been traveling, the more I have been wanting to return to you and our home… Or, should I say, to you? YOU are my home!_

_My Nikolaj, I burn with love and longing and nothing will soothe this fire in me until we are together. Oh, how madly I love you. I have no words. But when you are with me, I will show it to you._

_My Love, this time I will make you free one day from all your obligations so we can spend it together. Just one day – then we can both return to our duties and our work, glad that we can have the nights, since Our days belong to the Empire. But just one day? You will grant me that, Love, won’t you?_

_I am yours as long as I have breath in me,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s when I read your letter I cried with happiness and now I cry again because you are so far away and I am here, and I really want to come home, My Love. I have missed you, and I am missing you, and I am so lonely without you._

_And… I will say it… I’m getting tired of wandering. I am getting almost as tired as when I was back at Ivanhof and my main work was making sure the Ladies were not bored. That’s not for me – though I will do as much of it as I can because the Ladies’ Court is my responsibility. My Love, My Husband, I want to come home and work for the good of our country, now that I know that you will let me come back._

_Aedley is beautiful and large and I have never seen a city like it. How could I? There is no other city like it, and yet… I can’t walk anywhere because the streets are crowded, I can’t go to any coffee shops because they are so crowded, I can’t go to any lectures because they don’t accept women and find it UNACCEPTABLE that Irina can’t attend them, their best painters come from Fladd and I have already seen the best of Fladd painting, and they also have a male and female court. The male court is just like yours, and the female court is full of women doing embroidery while listening to romances. I had never thought I could be bored before coming here…_

_Irina says I have become a nag, and perhaps I have. I find no rest without you, nor any pleasure and, after seeing all the marvellous things I have seen, I want to come home and work by your side (and I want to hold you and kiss you and love you – how I love you, Husband)_

Once he had closed and sealed the letter to His Love, he started writing another, this time to Lady Ekaterina. 

_Bosilke Embassy at Aedley, 22nd of Sweet Month,_

_Dear Duchess,_

_We hope this finds you well._

_We are still displeased with the Ladies at Court, but not with You. We have finally understood why boredom is the worst enemy of a Court. When We are back, there will be changes that We hope will bring you pleasure and alleviate your boredom._

_We have missed you, Dear Lady, and We are looking forward to reading your news._

_Sending you Our warmest greetings,_

_Elik_

He closed and sealed that too before getting up. He needed to freshen up, get dressed, and get ready for work. What was the point of having favourites if he could not favour them? Somehow, he was certain that Vasily would tell him exactly how their Army would want to be spoiled by him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absence has made a complete and over-the-top romantic of Nikolaj - who would have thought? :)


	29. Chapter 29

_23rd of Sweet Month, en route to Valentin_

_My Sweet and Precious Darling,_

_I agree, traveling by ship is faster than traveling by carriage, but, Darling, this is also so… boring? We have played endless games of cards, and have studied the map of Our Empire over and over. Especially a particular part of the map._

_So, I really want to know:_

_How did you fight boredom on your journeys?_

_Was it easier because you had your Hundred Guards with you?_

_They really are handsome! It must have been easy on your eyes looking at them as they did whatever they did._

_I suppose, if I had something as pretty to look at, I wouldn’t be as bored. Oh, Darling, I know, when you are with me, I will not get bored at all, because you will be there._

_I also want to know:_

_How will you be when I meet you? I wonder if you have lost or gained weight. I have noticed that when you are upset, you don’t eat much. It worries me, Darling._

_I wonder, how will you act when I meet you? I saw a change in you through your letters, but will you be as different when I meet you? Or will you be quiet and meek again? I like this change in you, and even though I like your quietness, I much prefer your passion and your drive._

_I don’t know why I write these things. I will see you and I will know. I should be writing other questions for you, and thoughts – such as:_

_How did you persuade everyone at court to play for trifles instead of money? My Mother tried and tried to stop card games and gambling, but never succeeded._

_Do you get tired of trying to be good? I like that I am the Law, and what I say happens. What I do is good because I do it, not because that’s the rule, but you like following rules, don’t you?_

_Does that mean also that you like following rules in bed? You are always eager to do as I ask you, and please me, and how you please me, Darling, how much you please me…_

He put his pencil down and closed his eyes. He missed his sweet Husband so much. In the past, his mistresses and lovers had claimed to love him, yet they all expected gifts from him, and were quick to complain when they did not receive them. Only his darling…

_What gifts do YOU want me to give you? I don’t mean hospitals or foundations or new laws. Don’t you want anything for yourself? Oh, you did ask for a dog. Is that all you want?_

_Did you mean it when you wrote that Our Army is the only jewel you want? You’d rather have me improve the army with the money I could spend on diamonds for you?_

_I like seeing diamonds on you. I would like to spend a day with you in the Treasury. We’ll close the doors behind us, I will show you all our treasures, and then I will have you lie naked on … no, not the floor, I’ll have to remember to bring a rug or furs for you to lie on, and then I want to cover you in jewels. Your navel is so cute – I wonder what gem would look better in that tiny hollow._

_And, do you really want us to spend a whole day naked just so you can look at me? I don’t think you’ll manage to restrain yourself for a whole day if I am naked around you. Maybe we should bet on it. I bet that you will want to drag me to bed within an hour of having me naked. If I lose, I will clear another day of my schedule, so you can indulge yourself in my naked charms._

_If I win, you will devote one day cooking for me. You will make my breakfast, and my lunch, and my dinner. And you will make me desserts and freshly baked bread as well. You will cook everything I ask of you, and feed me with your own fair hands._

_I really want you to cook for me more often. I still think of that Lovers’ bread or however it was called. It was so fluffy and delicate that clouds must taste like that._

He looked up, at the white clouds crossing the sky, and grinned. Oh, what wouldn’t he give for a taste of his darling’s bread. Why was he getting so focused on it? Maybe it meant it was time to get something to eat.

*&*&

_24th , still on board,_

_I have been wondering, why do you hate fighting? You may not be the strongest of men, but I have seen you. You fight to win, and you would do anything for Our Army. An Army is meant to fight, Darling. Isn’t that a contradiction? You will explain this to me._

_I write this down before I forget; King Hans Ulrich was so impressed by your Guards that he designed new uniforms for his. They look good, if I say so._

_Oh, Darling, you will never believe what prank he tried to play on me. Or, rather, you will believe it, but you will never, NEVER (to use your favourite capitals) guess what I did. Or, maybe you will…_

_Why do you like Capital Letters so much? I don’t mind, but… I feel that you show more enthusiasm when you write to me than when you are with me. When you are with me, you are rarely that excited. You get mad at what I tell you, and you are sweet and affectionate and accommodating, but never so excited._

_Which reminds me, you know that you can be far too accommodating? I have been thinking about that. I do prefer your fire to your meekness, but… are you acting with meekness because you are afraid of me? There, I wrote it._

_Darling! I learned what acting and theatre is!_

_I got distracted. I was thinking about it (this trip is nothing but an excuse for thought, my Love. There’s nothing else to do but think, think, think). I admit that, when you obey my every whim and you submit to my desire and… Ah, Darling, when you look at me like I’m everything in your world, like I really am the sun and you are the most exquisite flower in my garden, turning towards me, needy, seeking approval and affection, I like it. I like it a lot that you desire me so much, and you need me, but…_

_You don’t have to need me all the time. Or be afraid of me. Or…_

_No, I lie. I want you to need me, because I too want you and I need you. But I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I don’t want you to look at me seeking approval, because…_

Nikolaj stopped and looked at the sky, a cloudless sky that was brilliantly blue and shining. He’d made his darling seek for his approval, hadn’t he? By denying him his impulses and not trusting him. 

_I don’t want that, but I do need to know that what you do is for the best of Our Empire. I’m sorry, Darling, I still need to know in advance when you have impulses and I promise I will try my best to trust you._

_I should have told you this before you left. You frightened me. You have so much power and you don’t even know it, Darling. You hold my heart, but, most importantly, you hold the Army in one hand and the Common Folk in the other. Do you even realise what that means? I am Head of the Army and its Supreme Commander, and Lord and Master of everyone in the Empire, yet you could make me fight for my position if you chose to oppose me. It scared me that you were my Equal._

_I shouldn’t be scared of you, though, should I?_

He stopped writing. He liked the change he saw in his darling’s letters, his confidence and pride that had been hidden from him for many months and now returned, even more focused than before. What if his Love became too proud, though? 

He snorted. He was being an idiot. There was one way of dealing with His Darling’s attitude. The way he’d chosen when he started this trip. He would teach His Love how to be is equal, instead of letting him follow whatever impulse he felt like following. At the same time, he would protect him. No one would ever use His Darling against him ever again. No one. 

He stood up and went to his cabin. Just because there were no daily dispatches and reports did not mean that he had no work to do. 

*&*&

_25th , still on board,_

_I AM SO BORED! MY LOVE, HOW CAN YOU STAND BEING ON A SHIP?_

_There, I wrote it._

_I worked all morning, and all afternoon, and I am still finding myself bored._

_I am going to see if the Captain or any of the officers is willing to dispel my boredom by explaining to me how they navigate and sail. That should take some time, right?_

&*&*

_26th, still on board_

_I am learning a lot._

_I was right; traveling is less boring now that they have explained it to me._

_My new routine is working until lunch, then learn new things, and then work some more until it’s dinner time. After that, we play for trifles. So far, I have won a bottle of ‘living water’, two pairs of socks, a new notebook, and have lost three notebooks, and five jars of strawberry jam. Darling, you will make the jam for me so I can honour the bet, won’t you?_

*&*&

_27th, still on board_

_Today I learned how to climb up on the masts. It was exhilarating to feel the wind from up there, but what was even more exiting was seeing the land from such a high point._

_Did you climb up on a mast? What did you think of it?_

_An Emperor must work, though, so I also did some more work today. I will show you everything later. I wonder if you will be amused._

&*&*

_28th, still on board_

_I regret not taking your letters with me. All the ones you had sent when I was at Ivanhof and the ones I got at the borders. But I was afraid of anything happening to me, or them. They are yours, and so they are so valuable to me._

_Darling, when we meet again, will you show me the location of the prostates? I wonder why they are called guardians when they don’t seem to defend anything. Did you ask your Dr Visser that?_

_A funny thing happened to me. Even though I am covering my arms and I wear a hat, my forehead, nose, and cheeks got sun burned! It hurts in a strangely annoying way, and my skin is peeling off in a fine, white film. It is kind of disgusting but fascinating at the same time. Dr Gotthardt made a special kind of poultice for me that smells of herbs and it is not unpleasant, but it reminds me of that ‘living water’ I had at Deep Port and…_

_I wonder, what would happen if I had a drink or two while on board? You had written that alcohol causes sea sickness, though, so I am abstaining as I have never abstained in my life. Your description of the symptoms was pretty disgusting._

_Darling, how could you stand taking care of men vomiting? Or, for that matter, how could you stand it in the hospital? I HATE HOSPITALS._

_Oh, I used capitals without even thinking about it. You see how much I hate them?_

_The ship’s carpenter has promised to show me what kind of repairs a ship usually requires. Truly, learning new things is the only way to pass the time on board. That, and doing work. Oh, you will be surprised at how much work I am doing._

_I suppose, one could also read, but, Darling, if I had a choice between fixing the ship and reading romances about wicked witches, I’d choose repairs any time. Ha, witches! THERE ARE NO WITCHES!_

&*&*

_29th, still on board_

_My One and Only Love, I must remember to share my thoughts on the theatre with you, so I will make a few notes here._

_First of all, I was shocked. Even before the play had started. The building – we don’t have anything like that in the whole of our Empire. It was more richly decorated than any palace I had seen – either in the Empire or at Deep Port. Even Ivanhof…. And when the play started, I understood what you meant about ‘acoustics’._

_But I was shocked also when the play started. It was based on a story I had read, but… what a difference it made to SEE the words accompanied by emotion. Instead of imagining how Joan the Brave had acted when she saw her dead children, I could see it! The actor made me shudder at her horror, and ache at her grief, and rouse my feelings to avenge the dreadful act._

_I understood why my Grandfather forbade it. One could get so easily manipulated by plays, and have their emotions twisted and turned and become confused._

_As I was watching, I was thinking. Could theatre be good for Our Empire?_

_You like theatre, though. Just for that you should have it. But maybe we need to think: should we have theatre for all, or just for the court? Are the common folk ready for it?  
Writing about Ivanhof reminded me – we need to do something about it. Hans Ulrich’s palace looked so delightful, and Ivanhof seemed to me old and oppressive. But we definitely have better and bigger gardens. _

&*&*

_30th, still on board_

_I wonder, how are you, My Love? Have you started traveling from Aedley-upon-the-river to the port?_

_If Luck is with Us, next week we will be together. My heart aches so sweetly at the thought._

_I’m going to find something to keep myself busy, or I will spend all day thinking of you, My Darling. An Emperor must do better things in his time, but for you, I am not an Emperor. I am just a man, Your Husband, and I miss you so much._

&*&*

_31st, still on board_

_Tomorrow we arrive at Lanault. And on the 4th, if Luck will aid Us, I will see you again._

_Right now, I have no words. Just this endless longing and excitement._

_A few more days, and you will be in my arms. Darling, you still want me, don’t you?_

&*&*

_I just realised something. Darling, I have been writing this as if it were a letter, but it is the most disjointed letter one could ever write or read. How amused you will be with me._

_So, I will make it all proper now. We need to talk about:_

_1\. No more dragging you to the nearest room when we are in public. And no more dragging me to the nearest room or behind the bushes when we are in public. You are my equal, and we must behave with dignity (you’ll say ‘fuck’, I know – and if you don’t, I will)_

_2\. The proposal to divorce you and get married to Princess Whatever-her-name-is from the Bright Empire (I WILL NOT AGREE TO IT EVEN IF YOU BEG ME, and throw all the salt on the floor and break all the loaves of bread that there are at Ivanhof)_

_3\. Our heirs – My Love, all my nephews are annoying. Do you have any decent and eligible relatives? (your sister DOES NOT COUNT – there has never been a Bosilik Empress in her own right, and I will not put Lady Irina on the throne after Us – she is even more of a revolutionary than you)_

_4\. Your role at Court – I know I want you to be Brilliant and make Our Court Brilliant, but, Darling? I have no idea how you can do that. I was hoping that you and Lady Ekaterina would find the way, because, all I know is how to fight and I never spent that much time in Court, so I left things as they were in my father’s day, and fucking, drinking, and playing cards was enough for me_

_5\. The war against Oerestand – fuck, this should have been FIRST._

_6\. Your Regency – and this should be SECOND._

_7\. Our Work! – OR should this be first?_

_Oh, Love, I can’t even make a list today. All my thoughts have turned to you with wild excitement._

Giving up, Nikolaj put his notebook in his pocket and looked at the clouds. How lovely and peaceful they were. How unlike him, who burned with love and ambition. He didn’t envy them, though. He was going to get His Love. 

Soon!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to add dates because I was losing track of the timeline... lol

_Port of Lanault , 1st of Summer_

Nikolaj walked down the gangway happily. He turned to look at the ship. “I will miss her,” he said. When he was back home, he’d have to ask the craftsmen to build them this kind of ship – fast and agile that a few friends could sail together. 

He couldn’t wait to be back on her together with his darling. Although, fuck, his darling had a hundred guards. He didn’t think they’d all fit there. Oh, well, the guards could come with a different ship. He would ask on the way back. 

Major Zarief saluted him the moment he saw him, drawing some curious glances. 

“At ease, Major.”

“Your Majesty, welcome to Valentin. I have arranged for you to have the fastest horses in the land. We should be in the capital in three days.”

“Great. We can’t wait.” Three more days, and on the fourth he would see his darling again. He wondered if he’d changed since he’d last seen him. He’d have to examine him most thoroughly when they were together again. 

*&*&

_Port of Lanault, a few hours later_

Elik glanced back at the ship’s masts. “I will miss her,” he said softly. He turned towards Vasily. “Who is that?”

“Who?”

“The one with the peacock coat and the feathered hat at the end of the line of Royal Guards.” 

“We will find out soon.”

“Hm.” He knew King Charles had a brother. Could that be him, and he was to be subjected to yet another ‘boring old noble’? 

Evgeni suddenly stopped in front of him, and saluted him. Then he went down. He was followed by Roman, then by Ivan and soon he realised that all his guards were in line, ready to salute him, before they disembarked. 

He tried not to sigh. “Formal visits are boring,” he sighed, unable to stop himself. “Once the celebrations for the King’s anniversary are over, can we travel somewhere else? Where I am not formally invited, and I am just a count again?”

Vasily stared at him with kindness. “Of course. We can go south, or maybe Thur-and-Foir?” His smile widened. “Or, we could return following the original schedule, and then… Then we could camp by the borders until the message that we can return arrives.”

Elik laughed. “We could do that. Ah, it’s been five months since the inquest on the ‘unfortunate event of the 5th’ has started. I thought the postal service was slow, but so is Our police.”

“They are being very thorough.”

Elik nodded. He almost understood Nikolaj’s impatience with them. “And what can we do but wait for them to finish?” He sighed again. He wanted to go home. 

“Your Majesty should go now,” Vasily said softly a few moments after the last of the Guards had disembarked. 

He approached the ship’s rail and looked down for a moment. King Charles’ Royal Guards were in line at the other end of the quey, and his own Guards were in line, starting from where the gangway touched the ground. They had effectively cleared the path for him and kept the common folk away. And how many there were. Even when they had arrived at Aedley there hadn’t been that many people curious to see him. 

He hated formal visits. The moment he stepped on the gangway, Gregory gave the command for his Guards to present arms, while another adjutant shouted the same in Valentinois. He glanced at them as they unsheathed their swords. He dared think his Guards were better. 

He nodded to his Guards, acknowledging their salute, and once more when he had reached the end of the Valentinois Guards. He stopped there and waited for the King’s representative to approach him. 

Something about him made him feel uncomfortable, but it was only when the man stopped in front of him, he realised what it was. The man leered at him the way people had done when he had first arrived at Ivanhof. 

“Your Majesty, on behalf of my brother, the King, I would like to welcome you at Valentin.”

He had been right; it was His Highness, Duke Alexandre. “Please, can you translate, Vasily?” he asked in Bosilik.

“You speak the language,” Vasily replied softly. 

“He looks at me strangely. I don’t like it.” 

“His Majesty is greatly honoured to be here,” Vasily ‘translated’.

“My Brother and I hope that you enjoy your visit. Please, follow me.”

“Others have looked at you strangely in the past,” Vasily continued ‘translating.’

“Not like they wanted to take liberties with me. I fear that if I speak his language, then he will take it as encouragement.”

“His Majesty is most grateful,” Vasily ‘translated’ again, “and would like to repeat his thanks for the invitation to your beautiful country.”

“Do you think I can be unwell for the rest of the trip?” 

“His Majesty would like to know, how far is the capital?”

“Two days, and we will be traveling by boat.”

“I don’t think you will manage being unwell on a boat trip,” Vasily ‘translated’ with a straight face. 

“You are right,” Elik smiled. “I love traveling by boat. I don’t want to be unwell for that.”

“His Majesty is delighted. Vessels have become his favourite means of transportation.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

“He’s happy, you’re happy, we’re all happy,” Vasily continued. 

“Did you see his expression? He knew!”

“Your Majesty, everyone from the empire to here knows by now.” Vasily turned towards the duke. “How big is the boat? And will it hold all our men?”

“Oh, it is big enough,” the duke laughed. “I don’t know the details. I mean, a boat is a boat, right? As long as it floats, who cares.”

“You are about to get angry and reply in his language,” Vasily smiled. “He has a point, and we will see the boat soon. I will find someone to answer all your questions about her.”

“Thank you. Oh, this will get very confusing if it continues. Tell him I’m looking forward to seeing his boat.”

“His Majesty is looking forward to seeing the boat,” Vasily translated.

“You will see. It’s a beautiful boat.” He offered his arm to Elik. 

“Tell him only My Husband can hold my arm. It’s protocol.”

“His Majesty is honoured,” Vasily said, glancing at the duke’s outstretched arm, “But according to Bosilik protocol, only His Imperial Majesty is permitted to hold His Majesty by the arm.”

“Really? I read up on Bosilik protocol and I can’t remember reading that.” He grinned. “I’ve always been interested in protocol and how it evolved and I love reading about how other courts do things. Our Court may be the most gallant and proper in the world, but if there is something good that we can borrow from another court, then we should do it.”

“Great. What is your answer to that?” Vasily looked at him. “He probably knows more about protocol than Count... your secretary. On the other hand, if he really knows about our protocol, then he must know that the seat next to yours is only for His Majesty. As his guest of honour, you will have to sit on his right, but perhaps we can insist on that, even though it breaks protocol about visits.”

“Yes, we have to give that a try. Tell him it is an unwritten rule.”

“His Majesty says it is an unwritten rule that everyone in Bosilke knows.”

“Besides, I’m from Quhjan,” Elik said. “No man is allowed to hold the arm of another man’s spouse there.”

Vasily translated that properly.

The duke looked at him even more hungrily. “Really?” He lowered his arm. “I heard that swans mate for life. Is that true?”

Vasily ‘translated’, “When I find whoever started calling you that, I will have them punished severely.”

“I fear it might have been His Majesty,” Elik chuckled. “But remember the story the Guards were making up some weeks ago? Maybe we can add another part. The prince is changed into a swan by the wicked witch – perhaps he is a swan by night and a prince by day?”

Vasily nodded. “The other way around would be more interesting. Swan by day and prince by night. And I think we have found our dragon.”

Elik laughed. “I am being so rude, talking to you instead of him, and he almost made Us cause an incident. How will this visit go, when it is starting that badly? Oh, is that the boat? It’s a barge! Look at how big it is.”

Vasily started ‘translating’, giving a very short lecture on swans and their habits to His Highness. Elik didn’t pay any attention to them. It was a good barge, truly big enough to hold them all. But where would they sleep? He knew that barges were not as deep as ships. He waited until Vasily had finished. “Vasily? There is no space for sleeping quarters in that barge. Please, can you ask him about it?”

Vasily did. 

“We will stop at Auby, where we will spend the night in one of our ancestral domiciles.”

“Do I dare ask if there is a garden. I can imagine that your gardener will be eager for one,” Vasily said, trying hard not to smirk. 

“Yes, please.”

“Is there a garden at your ancestral domicile?”

“Of course. How do I say that myself in Bosilik?”

Vasily told him.

“Of course,” the Duke smiled at him. 

“Tell him that We hope he likes roses.” 

Vasily translated. 

Oh, this was going to be such a long trip. 

&*&*

_2nd of Summer_

Alexandre looked at the Swan. Why on earth did he want him? He was as pretty as a picture, his envoys had been right about that, but the day before, all he had wanted to talk about was boats. Alexandre had been so frustrated and annoyed that he gave up trying to talk to him and allowed him to go meet the Captain and the other officers. He had hoped that this would put the Swan in a better mood, but the moment they had reached Auby, the Swan claimed to be unwell, hid in his room, and then, while Aexandre was having dinner, a servant informed him that the Swan and his dog were running in the garden. Alexandre had woken up to the sight of a garden full of holes and had coffee under the gaze of a not-exactly apologetic Swan telling him he should have more roses since he liked them so much. 

But that was the day before. Today would be different. Surely the Swan could have no more questions about the boat, could he? He gestured to his musicians to start playing as he approached him. 

Ah, how could he not want him? He liked collecting everything that was beautiful and precious, and the Swan was both. He looked like a figure out of painting as he sat there with his dog next to him, one hand absent-mindedly petting its fluffy head, and the other holding a book open. He was looking at the river bank, and listened to something that his translator was telling him. 

“Hello,” he said pleasantly as he sat next to him. 

The Swan gave him a cold look, said something fast in Bosilik and stood up. 

“That seat is reserved for His Majesty,” the translator told him as he immediately followed is Majesty’s example. 

The Swan might have avoided sitting next to him with that excuse the day before, but not that one. “At official visits, His Majesty sits to the right of the Host,” he said. He’d looked up Bosilik protocol during the evening just to make sure that he remembered that correctly. 

“His Majesty is very traditional,” said the translator with an icy glare. 

So, either he would stand up or the Swan? He snorted. The Swan could stay up as much as he liked. It wasn’t like Alexandre wasn’t enjoying the view. He did have very shapely calves, and his coat was unbuttoned, revealing a very tight-fitting waistcoat underneath. 

The Swan said something with a huff, and the translator snorted in response. 

They were making fun of him? He stood up. “Tea? How do you say ‘tea’ in Bosilik?”

“Chaj,” the translator told him. 

“Chaj?” he smiled. 

“It’s an ‘ee’ sound at the end, not ‘j’,” the translator explained before commenting in Bosilik. 

The Swan bit back a laugh. “Chaj,” he repeated. 

Lady Irina appeared suddenly next to her brother. She glanced at him, said something that definitely sounded like an insult, her brother replied with something that sounded like another rude comment, and the translator tried hard to pretend he wasn’t paying attention. 

“How nice to be a king,” he said softly, “and be rude to everyone.”

That made them stop chatting among themselves. The Swan said something and Lady Irina turned around and left them. 

The translator stared at him. “His Majesty would like that tea now, thank you.”

Alexandre snapped his fingers and a servant brought them a tray. Once that was poured into the cups, he offered the tray to the Swan. What was he doing? He was not a servant. The Swan was too distracting. “Does Your Majesty enjoy your visit so far?”

He waited for the translation while the Swan stared at the cup, sniffed it delicately and finally took a tiny sip. He stayed completely still for a moment, before replying. 

“His Majesty says your land is very beautiful. He also asks, what tea is this?”

“It’s tea,” he said with a frown. “Chaj.”

The Swan looked at him as if he were deeply insulted. He started saying something, and then continued. Bosilik was a strange language, he decided as he heard the Swan go on and on until the translator looked desperate for him to stop. 

“His Majesty wants to know more about the tea.”

He stared at the translator. They really were making fun of him. “His Majesty was speaking for a whole minute, if not more. That was all he asked?”

With a blank expression, the translator started speaking. “His Majesty says, this tea has a very distinct reddish colour that is quite deep and dark. The colour reminds him of… bricks?” He asked in Bosilik, the Swan nodded and started talking about the tea again. “He also says,” the translator also continued, “that it has a scent that is slightly smoky and with a hint of some fruit. Not berries or citruses, so perhaps something like apricot.”

Alexandre felt his eyes widen. Who cared about tea that much? 

“Furthermore, the taste is smoky and deep, but also earthy and slightly … nutty. He says it is also reminiscent of fruit and cinnamon. It is unlike the teas he is used to. So, what tea is it? He finds it interesting.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I like coffee. Everyone likes coffee. I just asked for some good tea, because…” He couldn’t say that he had His Majesty followed and so had learned that he preferred tea. “Because I wanted to have variety.”

The Swan looked at the translator with a patient expression. When he heard the translation, he grinned and replied in Bosilik. Strange language or not, he had a very pleasant voice. 

“His Majesty appreciates your consideration.”

“I aim to please. In all things, I am his loyal servant.”

The translator stared at him. He was a handsome man, but when he stared down at Alexandre, his beauty turned cold and dangerous. “That is not proper for me to translate. You are not His Majesty’s servant.”

“I wouldn’t mind being His servant.” Alexandre knew that the Swan understood him, so he leaned a little closer. “Allow me to pay homage to You, and worship You.”

The Swan’s expression remained patient while the translator stayed quiet and still as a statue. 

He glanced at the translator, feeling naughty. He turned his attention to the Swan, marveling at how clear his complexion was, how long his reddish-brown eyelashes, and how delicate his eyebrows. Truly, only the gods could have created such fine lines. “If you let me, I will prostrate myself in front of you and kiss your feet. Your beauty demands to be revered.”

With the same calm expression, the Swan turned to the translator and said something in Bosilik.

“His Majesty asks if you are talking about the tea. He really would like to know more about this variety.”

Suddenly someone started singing something fast in Bosilik from the other side of the boat. The famous Hundred were at it! Alexandre didn’t expect to hear them, since they had arrived as perfectly poised Guards and had denied him the spectacle of singing from the masts that he’d read about in the reports of his informants. 

Soon, that lone voice was joined by others, until he could hear the same song coming from all areas of his boat, and all the Guards he could see were standing up and singing as loudly as they could. 

The Swan smiled with delight. He put his cup down and gave him a little nod before walking fast to the other side. 

The translator smiled at him. Alexandre shivered. He felt like the translator wanted to tell him something deeply unpleasant. “If you really want to be His Majesty’s servant, you will obey Our rules, and Our rules say that You will not sit at the seat reserved for His Majesty ever again.”

“So, I can continue telling him how wonderful he is?”

“Doesn’t Your Highness find it tiring talking to someone who doesn’t understand him? You can continue, but His Majesty will not understand a word.”

“I doubt that is the case.” He knew that the annoying, but distractingly pretty creature understood every word he said. 

“I can assure you; His Majesty will not understand anything.” He grinned at some private joke, bowed deeply at him and went to find the Swan. 

He sighed. Why did he want him? One of the Hundred winked and smiled at him. Like all the other Guards, he was gorgeous. Why couldn’t he be happy with what was freely offered? 

Because he liked what was most precious, and an Emperor’s Consort was more precious than a Guard. He wanted Him. 

&*&*

Nikolaj looked outside his window. Just before sunset he could appreciate more the beauty of the land and of the buildings. Everything looked so clean and polished, the fading golden red light bathing the grey slates of the village houses and making them shine. Up there, watching this beautiful evening, he could forget how the streets stank of horse manure and piss. 

His Empire was cleaner, and so were its people. In the West, not even the palaces had running water, and he could swear that he had never met anyone who bathed daily in all the towns and cities he had stayed. Everyone smelled of perfume and sweat, some more stale, some less so. 

His poor Darling; he had thought Nikolaj was bad because he preferred washing off his sweat with a towel instead of wasting time with baths, a habit he’d acquired during his first campaign. What did he make of these people that seemed to bathe once a year? 

He sat down, took out his notebook and added that to his list of things to ask his Sweet Darling. 

Then he took out a sheet of official paper and started writing to his Royal Brother.

_Reverdes, 2nd of Summer_

_My Dearest Brother,_

_How are you?_

_We hope this finds you well and ready to start celebrating ten years of marriage to Your Most Honourable and Peerless Consort. We hope to share in Your joy and congratulate You in person, taking advantage of Your kind invitation._

_Dear Brother, We come to you tomorrow, not only as a guest, but also as a man on a long journey, a man whose sickness can be cured by one thing only. We pray you, open the gates to Your Gardens and Your House to this pilgrim, to this ailing person, and let him find solace from his journey and cure from his illness in the person of He Who is Most Dear to Us, and will be arriving tomorrow evening._

_Dear Brother, We ask of You to keep Our journey secret. We will be arriving hours before Our One and Only Consort and We would like to surprise him.  
Brother, I embrace you and hope to meet you tomorrow_

_Nikolaj I_

He folded, sealed and stamped the letter. Then he handed it to his secretary. “Tomorrow, we will be at Sorain. Do you think He will have changed? I hope he hasn’t lost weight. But I also hope he hasn’t put any weight either. Though… Hm… I wouldn’t mind squeezing his love handles if he has them,” he grinned. 

Count Njedzic bit his lips. “You only need to wait one more day, Sire, to find out.”

“Two, Your Excellency. If I meet him before dinner, I will never go to dinner. No, I have to meet him early in the morning, so We can have all morning and noon and afternoon to Ourselves.” He laughed. He hoped his darling wouldn’t have changed during the last two weeks that he hadn’t received any drawings from Lady Irina, but what if he had? His Darling would always be His Darling, His Precious, His Sweet, His Delight, His Husband. “Please, have it sent at Sorain immediately. I need to know if Our Royal Brother will keep his promise of entertaining us. If he does not, then I will camp outside Sorain and wait at the side of the road like a beggar for My Darling.” He laughed again. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Count Njedzic looked at him with an expression of mild horror. “That is bad luck.”

“No, that’s my Plan B, if Plan A doesn’t work,” he said as he gestured for him to go. “And have dinner sent up. We are hungry.” One day he’d remember that he could stop for lunch when he was riding. Someday. 

&*&*

_Sorain, 3rd of Summer_

“Enter,” Nikolaj said when he heard the knock. 

The door opened and Charles of Valentin walked in the bedroom’s antechamber. Nikolaj had never met him before, but he recognised him from his portraits. He was handsomer in real life, he decided, a wiry man with regular features and bright green eyes with a gentle expression. His clothes were particularly fine, he noticed. It seemed that the latest fashion in Sorain was for coats that were shorter at the front than the back, and patterned all over. Interesting. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Anything for my Royal Brother,” Charles smiled, and he seemed amused by some private joke. “I have placed my private retreat at your disposal,” he said, “but I hope that tonight, you will allow me to be your host here.”

“I am your guest,” he smiled and followed Charles out. 

He also liked the idea of a private retreat, where one could hide from courtly obligations, and spend time with friends. Charles’ retreat, hidden between trees somewhere in the gardens of Sorain, was a small house, but richly furnished and decorated, fit for a king. “I am also building a little retreat back at Ivanhof. A place for me and my Most Gracious Consort.”

Charles nodded. “Are you sure you don’t want to go meet your Consort tonight? He and my brother will be arriving soon.”

“And miss the chance of having dinner with my Brother?” 

Charles grinned, wrote something in a piece of paper and handed it to one of his guards. “I hope you will not mind dining with all Our Royal Brothers.”

Nikolaj shook his head with delight.

Charles led him to a small dining room where Nikolaj immediately recognised his Royal Brothers Leopold of Rodtal, Ferdinand of Thur-and-Foire, Otto of Nasdal, and Henrik of Fladd, either from their portraits, like Henrik and Otto, or because they had met before. “I thought that we could have one night away from Our gracious consorts,” Charles smiled. 

The next few minutes were spent embracing each other as was tradition. Nikolaj was so glad he’d decided to go get his darling. Even though all he cared was knowing where he stood with his immediate neighbours with Oerestand, but this? This was perfect. Even if he could not discuss his war at dinner, he’d find some other chance during the next days. 

He turned towards Ferdinand and they embraced. “It is such a pleasure to see you again.” Ferdinand had put on weight since the last time they had seen each other, but still had that same self-satisfied and jolly expression on his face. 

“For me as well. I am still annoyed that you did not marry my little sister.”

He grinned. “Anne can do better than me. I’m a complete and utter pervert,” he laughed. 

Charles snorted, and Ferdinand dismissed his comment with a wave of his hand. “Perhaps, but you deprived me of the chance of saying that I have brothers-in-law across the whole continent.”

“For a pervert, you are quite devoted to your Spouse and Consort,” Charles said.

“That does not mean I am not a pervert. Only that I am now focusing all my efforts in trying to pervert my Darling.”

Henrik broke out in laughter and gave him a little bow. He was more broad than tall, and the wrinkles on his face showed that he enjoyed as many laughs as Hans Ulrich. “Judging by the way Your Consort’s men behaved at Fladd, I must congratulate you on your success on perverting someone.”

Leopold grinned. He hadn’t changed at all since Nikolaj had last seen him. He still looked as if he had walked accidentally into the room, with clothes that were far too colourful and Nikolaj could not imagine even a jester wearing. “After hearing the reports from Ustvela I was so glad he decided not to visit.”

“That’s actually a shame,” Henrik continued before Nikolaj could defend his darling’s honour, still looking amused. “They were noisy and they liked to mingle with Our people, to put it politely, but they are a very good choir. Their barges passed under my palace on two different nights and,” his expression grew appreciative, “they can sing. They have this way of singing that is completely different to ours, and I had never heard anything like it. And,” he nodded, “Among them are some of the best singers you will ever hear. There was one bass singer in particular, you have to hear him to believe that a voice like that exists. I offered him money, land, titles, anything he wanted to stay at Fladd and join my singers, but he refused. Then I tried luring two of the tenors to my singers, but they also refused. What a disappointment. Tell me, Nikolaj, will they be performing here?”

Nikolaj felt like preening. These were His men they were praising. “I don’t know, but I hope so.”

“I hope so too. They may be a group of very lustful men, but, oh, how they can sing. One can put up with their noise and nightly carousing for the sake of their art. And they are very polite too. While at Fladd, they never got into fights, no matter how drunk they got. I was impressed.”

Nikolaj nodded. “Of course. Imperial Guards never get in fights. They are proud that they are nice.” When he’d first heard that march, he’d thought it was hilarious, but now it seemed that they lived by it. Either the Major ruled them with an iron fist, or they really took pride in being well-disciplined at all times. 

Ferdinand guffawed. “The Bosilik Court sounds so interesting. At my Court, every day there’s a report about a Guard or other who got in a fight, no one ever tried to lure my singers away to a different court, and my Spouse and Consort would lock herself in her room if I even suggested to her to take her guards out at night for a boat ride.”

“My guards only know how to guard,” Otto said primly. He had a thin face that matched his voice. “And my Consort is far too proper to even think about going out at night.”

Nikolaj grinned. His Consort was far too proper too – in all the things that mattered. 

Charles stared at them. He probably refrained from making any comments and Nikolaj couldn’t blame him; his Spouse and Consort was Ferdinand’s other little sister. “I have Mistresses for my pleasure and parties,” he suddenly said with a pleasant smile. “My Wife is my very proper Queen, and I am always dutiful and respectful towards her.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ferdinand said with a proud smile. “Philippa has a good heart.”

“Please.” Charles bade them sit. 

“No, don’t tell me we will have a contest of who has the best consort,” Leopold pretended to gasp. “After all, there can be only one winner. The wife of our Gracious Host.”

Otto looked like he wanted to disagree. 

“True, politeness obliges us to praise Our Hostess,” Henrik added, and NIkolaj nodded at that.

“Philippa is my sister,” Ferdinand said with a huff. “If I judge her a better consort than my wife, do you know what Louise will do to me when she hears about it?” He shuddered. “No. No such contests for me either.”

“We could have a contest of Mistresses,” Henrik smiled. 

Nikolaj stared at them. This was another contest he’d lose, since he had no mistresses any longer. “I hope you excuse me if I change the topic. Discussing wives and mistresses is light talk best left for dessert.”

“What serious matters you want to discuss, dear Brother?”

“Oerestand.”

Everyone fell quiet and studied him. 

Ferdinand broke the silence seconds later. “I am not getting involved.” 

Henrik and Otto nodded. “What you do with Oerestand is not Our business,” Otto said. Henrik nodded again. 

“Thank you, that is all I ask.” He turned towards the others. “And you? Will you stand back as I try to bring peace in my borders?”

Charles frowned. “Oerestand and We share old bonds of friendship. I should not stand back, yet… Oerestand is in the other side of the continent. I don’t see why I should drag my country in a war that has nothing to do with us, just for the sake of an alliance forged by my forefathers.”

Nikolaj smiled. “Thank you.”

Only Leopold remained quiet. 

“Brother?” Nikolaj asked him. 

“My grievances with George are personal,” Leopold told him. “After all, he locked my sister in a castle after he repudiated her, and she would have died there if I had not bribed her guards to let her escape. Even then, though, I did not think of starting a war to avenge her honour. For all I know, my nephew could very well be Duke Kazimir’s son, and not George’s, but that’s her business, not mine.”

Nikolaj studied him. So, he would support his nephew to take the throne rather than the widow and her baby? 

“I thought your borders were peaceful,” Ferdinand said, changing the subject. 

“They will be truly peaceful only when Oerestand stops bothering us.” He also decided to change the subject. “Can you believe that they attacked us last year as We were traveling with Our Most Gracious and Perfect Consort? Our Consort was devastated. He had to stop having parties every night,” he chuckled. 

“I’m looking forward to meeting this Most Gracious and Perfect Consort of yours,” Ferdinand grinned. 

“So am I,” Charles said. “Dear Brother, please let me be there when you surprise him tomorrow.”

“As you wish.”

“So, now that the serious business of the day is over, can we go back to talking about Mistresses? And Lovers?” Ferdinand asked with eyes that shone. “My dear Brother-in-law, last time I was here, I had met this most exquisite of creatures, the Marquise of Jeines. Will she be attending any of the festivities?”

“I think so. She is still one of Philippa’s Ladies of Honour.” 

“Wonderful.” He smiled at Nikolaj. “After Henrik’s high praise, I am even more curious to see His Majesty’s Choir of Guards. I really hope they put on a performance for us.”

“I hope that too,” Henrik said. “I want to try tempting that bass again. Last time, I did not know he was married to a peasant. This time, I will try bribing his husband.”

Nikolaj raised an eyebrow, realizing immediately who the bass was. All this fuss for a singer? His Darling had changed a law just to keep him in his Choir. Nikolaj had to ask to hear him privately, if the Guards did not perform. Or… “If they do not put a performance, I will personally command them to,” Nikolaj said. 

“I don’t think Ferdinand cares much about their singing,” Charles grinned. 

“What can I say? Why should one have to choose between apples and oranges when one can have both?”

“I’ll drink to that,” said Nikolaj as he raised his glass. “To Our Most Gracious Host Charles and his Court full of apples and oranges.”

Everyone raised their glass at that.

*&*&*

_Sorain, even later in the evening_

Elik was so glad to be away from the Duke. He wasn’t that boring, but how it bothered him that he tried so hard to get him. It was exhausting. At least, they were finally at Sorain, and the King’s Estate was much larger than he’d read. The gardens were almost as big as their gardens at Ivanhof, but they were arranged differently. He couldn’t wait to see them in the day light. Until that moment, though, he would enjoy being able to walk around with Oleg and just Ivan and Aron behind him. There was so much space they could walk, the air was fresh and smelled of flowers, and there were no people. How lovely that was!

He saw lights from behind some trees further down the path. Before he could take a step forward, he noticed the two guards that blocked the path with their spears. That must have been the King’s private retreat, then. Duke Alexandre had mentioned it when he’d spoken of his own retreat, which he’d given to Elik for his use while he stayed at Sorain. 

He nodded to the guards and turned around. “Come, Oleg,” he said. “Are you hungry? I think I am. Should we run?”

Oleg jumped around him, as if he agreed. Sometimes, he felt that Oleg understood him so well. 

“Yes, let’s run, Oleg. This is such a good garden for running.” He smiled at his Guards. “Ivan, Aron, want to play ‘catch Oleg’ with me? I will make a pie for whoever catches this Gardener. Maybe one with a marzipan base and fruits on top?” He could make one for himself too, and have it for breakfast with Irina, Vasily and the Count. 

They all started running, and Oleg danced between them as he tried to escape them. What a lovely garden this was. 

“With all due respect, if you make one pie for whoever catches the Gardener and we are the only ones playing ‘catch Oleg’,” Ivan said, “everyone else will be jealous. I don’t want to upset anyone.”

“You mean, I should play ‘catch Oleg’ with everyone?” Elik laughed. 

“Well… I was thinking… what if you made pies for everyone?”

Elik stopped in his tracks. Oleg ran ahead and then came back to him. “Pies for everyone?” He scratched the top of Oleg’s head. He liked the idea, but he’d never cooked for a hundred people on his own. It would take him forever. 

“We can help,” Ivan smiled. 

Aron nodded. “I bet everyone will help.”

“As His Majesty says, the idea has merit. What are we waiting for?” he smiled as he started running towards the service building his Guards were staying. “If we start soon, we can have them ready for breakfast. Ivan, can you please tell the Count that I will be at your service tonight? I would not dare go off my schedule without him knowing where I am.”

Laughing, Ivan ran towards Duke Alexandre’s retreat. 

“Aron, we need to check what’s in the kitchen. We have to make the best pies imaginable!”

&*&*

The noise coming from everywhere in the building made Vasily put his book down. It was as if someone had rung the alarm, and all the men had started running out of the building. He listened closely as he got up and looked out of his window. He could hear no doors, and no one was running out. So, where were they running? And why? 

He got out of his room, catching a glimpse of one of the men heading down the corridor. He did what any curious person in his place would do; he followed him. 

Down they went, down the first floor, and down the ground floor, and down in the basement. Vasily found himself smiling the further down they went. The only room down was the kitchen, a kitchen as big and cavernous as that of Ivanhof, made to accommodate the needs of hundreds of men. And the only place in the whole building that could hold all the Guards if they wanted to have their party.

His smile grew even wider. Ever since their long stop at Aedley, their parties had become private, and the invitations to them had become as precious as diamonds and gold. It was as if they all needed a break from spending time with complete strangers. He knew very well that the rule of not having parties during official visits could be broken easily had His Majesty wanted it broken, but neither he nor the Guards had tried to break it, preferring instead their own company to that of strangers. 

He stayed just behind the door’s opening, and only peeked inside the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

His Majesty was in the middle, in front of one of the middle of the three tables that took up almost all the length of the room, while the Guards were arranging themselves in four rows facing him as they wiped their hands clean. After months of living closely with His Majesty, his mania for washing had infected them all. The Bosilik were much cleaner than the people of the Western lands, but His Majesty had taken cleanliness to another level. When they were all ready, they saluted him. “Special Guards here to help,” Vanya shouted. “And Blacksmith attached to the Guards,” he added, pointing to Stepan. The poor man turned red. 

“At ease,” His Majesty smiled. “And thank you.” He bowed deeply to them, as if they were the one in command. 

His smile grew. For His Majesty, they were, and he was there to serve them, not the other way around. 

“I had a look, and there were not enough ingredients for the pies I was thinking of making,” he started saying, raising his voice to be heard over the slight disappointed murmurs.

“However, Aron was kind enough to send a message to Dima, and Dima one to the Royal Kitchens. He should be arriving soon with everything we need.” His Majesty stood up straighter. “And he will bring them, or We will be most displeased, and cause an Incident,” he said in the stern and haughty tone that Vasily was used to hearing from their Emperor.

“That said, until Dima gets here with all the almonds, we can start working on the dough and the filling. Actually, can everyone eat almonds? I have a cousin who gets sick when she eats them,” he said in his usual concerned tone. “I can make a separate pie for those who can’t.”

Surprised, Vasily saw a couple of raised hand. 

“Thank you.” He pointed at the left. “Can you start washing the fruit?” He pointed at the right. “You with me, we’ll start on the dough. Roman, can you bring the eggs here?” He turned around. 

Vasily watched as they obeyed the command as if it were that of a General. The sight made him grin again. 

“Are you all ready for tomorrow?”

Roman nodded as he carried a large crate. “Yes,” he added a second later. 

“I’m afraid you might be asked to perform more than once in the following days.”

“Since when was this a problem?” Vanya grinned. “I hope we can sing some Bosilik songs for them. If Your Majesty wishes.”

“Yes,” Evgeni said, surprising him at how forceful and irritated he sounded. “That Duke was so annoying and stuck-up.”

Vasily couldn’t agree more. And Evgeni didn’t even know half of it; he hadn’t been the one watching as the idiot courted His Majesty, nor the one who really wanted to beat him up for his impertinence, but couldn’t. 

“If the rest of the court is like him,” Evgeni continued, “they deserve to hear our rendition of Brothers, the night is dark. The special one, we one from Deep Port.”

“We could try practicing that,” Roman smiled and started humming.

“No, no, we can’t break things in the kitchen while we’re baking,” His Majesty stopped him. “We could practice Triumph of Love over Time, though. I can join you.”

Vasily smiled. He could go back to his book, and let them have all the fun. Or he could join them. “We should have a song that can help with baking,” Vasily said from the door as he started rolling up his sleeves. “I always liked In the Woods for that,” he continued as he washed his hands. “Are you making a dough with butter?”

His Majesty nodded. 

“Then, that’s perfect.” He grinned. “It has the perfect rhythm for mixing the sugar with the flour and the butter, and then for kneading.” It was also his Grisha’s favourite song because it reminded him of their wedding in his village near Zhalemnye forest. He smiled. Soon, he’d become like His Majesty, going around with the eyes of a wounded soldier, whispering how much he missed his husband. Ah, but he did miss his Grisha. 

No wonder they had stopped having open parties. They had all become homesick; the sounds of home were more welcome and soothing than the new and foreign sounds they had encountered in their journey. 

“Is it any good for cleaning fruit?” Maxim asked.

“Any song is good for cleaning fruit,” His Majesty replied. “In the Woods? On the count of three?”

“Yes, Sir, Yes,” they shouted. 

“Three, two, one. In the Woods,” His Majesty started, his voice disappearing under that of the others. 

Vasily grinned as he sang. They were ready to go home, but the question was, would home be ready for them? His father would have keeled over if he had ever seen an Empress in the kitchen baking for her Guards, but the dead were not his concern. He was more interested in the living. 

They had so much work to do. 

His Majesty put a bowl with flour, sugar and butter in front of him. Yes, they had a lot of work ahead of them, both here and back home. How did the Quhjani put it? Forward or fall? Forward it was.


	31. Chapter 31

Alexandre took the little note from his page and read it. He crumbled it into a ball and put it into his empty cup of coffee. Not only had the Swan spent all night at the building where His Guards were lodging, but, according to the information that his servant had just sent him, he’d only just returned to Alexandre’s little garden retreat. He was about to finish breakfast and that maddening creature had just gone to bed? Surely, he meant to avoid him all day by sleeping. 

“This is so annoying,” he whined to his wife. “For the last three days, I have offered him his favourite foods, gave him nothing but tea, had my musicians play for him non-stop, and what does he do? He hides behind his translator, as if I don’t know he speaks Valentinois. He makes me follow Bosilik protocol and leave an empty seat between us as if the Emperor is about to show up at any minute, and you know what’s the worse? For the last three nights, he claimed to be unwell the moment he was off the boat, only to go running around with his dog. Can you believe it? Running, not even walking, while I was forced to have dinner with that dour secretary of his. That man has an expression like everything around him stinks.”

“Serves you right for trying to seduce another man’s Husband,” she snorted, looking at the little cakes in front of him.

He couldn’t help but smile. “My Brother would agree with you,” he told her, pushing the plate with the desserts towards her. He snorted. “He’s very annoying, but he really is as pretty as a picture. You will meet him today and see how charming he is. Even when he pretends that he doesn’t speak our language.”

“Your brother, our King, is a wise man, and you’re a fool if you still want him just because he’s pretty. He’s probably making fun of you in Bosilik together with his translator.”

Alexandre took a deep breath. The thought had crossed his mind on a few occasions. “That does it,” he said as he sat down and started writing a series of small notes. “If he hides behind protocol, then I will also use protocol against him.” After three days of using all the sweet and persuasive words and means he had in his arsenal, he knew that he had to admit defeat as far as seducing the Swan went. He’d be damned, however, if he didn’t see the Swan in all his naked glory at least once. 

“What will you do?”

He grinned. “He is a king, is he not? Well, I will treat him like His Majesty.”

His wife stood up. “I would like to watch that. Marie, Marie, get my green gown. We’re going to see His Majesty from the North.”

&*&*

A couple of hours later, Alexandre was at the head of a small procession of friends and servants that he’d led from his palace rooms to his retreat. Even though he had offered use of his little abode to the Swan and told him to treat it as his home, no one dared tell him he could not go inside his own house. Without protests or problems, he guided his entourage to the bedroom. “Open the door,” he told the two guards who were positioned outside. 

The guards stared at him. 

“His Majesty is on an official visit, and so he must be welcomed officially at Sorain as well.”

The guard at the left said something quickly in Bosilik that made the guard at the right huff softly and his lips turn into the slightest of smiles. With a nod, they opened the door for Alexandre and his entourage. 

The Swan’s page looked up from the book he was reading. He stood up immediately. Like most of the men in the Swan’s entourage, he was blond, and he’d be a very handsome man when he got past his the awkward adolescence. “What are you doing here?” he asked them in Valentinois. His accent was thick, but charming. “His Majesty is sleeping.”

“Good, because I have come to wake him up.”

The young man stared at him with shock. 

Alexandre ignored him, strode across the room and opened the door to the Swan’s bedroom. Ah, what a sight that was; the Swan was sleeping peacefully in Alexandre’s bed, wrapped in Alexandre’s bedcovers, his rich, copper hair spilling over Alexandre’s pillow. The only thing missing was Alexandre himself, but that would never be, would it? 

He enjoyed the sight and felt regret for less than a second. The Swan’s dog stood up almost immediately upon his entrance from where he was lying over the covers at the foot of bed and started barking loudly. He grinned; the dog was just like its Master; beautiful and elegant in repose, but a complete pest when it opened its mouth or moved. All his castle gardens had so many holes after that dog had run through them.

His Majesty sat up as well, blinking at them in shock. The covers slid off him, revealing that he was sleeping in the plainest chemise imaginable, as if he were a peasant. It was a good thing that Alexandre had brought one made of lace for the Swan. That would suit him much better. It was also good that he’d brought a wig and make-up. The Swan’s hair looked untameable; a wig would work better. As for the make-up… well, everyone looked better with make-up, especially if they had spent all night up, and they had the beginnings of dark circles under their eyes, like the Swan. 

The Swan asked something in Bosilik and his page replied just as quickly. When had that young man slipped into the room?

“Your Majesty,” he bowed. “It is our custom that a king is dressed by his most honoured and noble servants.”

Even half-awake, His Majesty managed to keep up the farce of not speaking his language. He gestured to his dog to calm down, looked at his page, waited until his page translated (or was that, ‘translated’?) and then replied in a murmur. 

“His Majesty says, He is not Your King. Leave him alone,” translated the page, and this time, he was certain that it was an accurate translation. 

“But Your Majesty is in Our fair Land. You will follow our protocol and let us greet you and wake you up like our king.” He nodded and Marie, the Countess of Chevres, gave the chemise she was holding to Alice, his cousin and Duchess of Saon, and she in turn gave it to him. “As the king’s brother, I have precedence over everyone else, and so it is my right to dress you,” he smirked. “Will you get up now?” he told him gleefully. 

His Majesty stared at him. His eyes narrowed for a second and he squared his shoulders. “It is not Our habit to get dressed before having a bath. We will call you when We are ready,” he told him in Valentinois as he raised his hand and made a slight, but clearly dismissive gesture. 

Alexandre was shocked. Not from the Swan’s treatment of him as if he were a servant. He himself had accepted that, in exchange for the privilege of sweet-talking to the charming, but annoying creature. Not from the way His Majesty spoke his language, with almost no accent. No, it was what he said that was unheard of. “A bath before dressing? Who ever heard of that?” he asked, still surprised, not moving from his spot. 

“Dressing without having had one? Who ever heard of that?” His Majesty countered and kept staring. “Out,” he suddenly ordered them pointing at the door and making Alexandre flinch. 

Well, if his brother had commanded him that, then he would have left. With a bow, he turned around, and his courtiers filed out of the room with him. Before the doors could close behind them, he couldn’t help himself. “We will be right here, Your Majesty.”

Alice laughed the moment the doors closed. “Oh, Alexandre, this prey is far too stubborn.”

“Oh, I have given up on it,” he grinned. “But isn’t this fun?” He stepped close to her, and whispered in her ear. “I will see him naked, Dear Cousin, or my name is not Alexandre.”

“One naked man is much like another,” she smirked.

“I agree, but some men look better naked than others.”

She nodded. “So, we just wait now?”

“Seems like it.” 

She reached inside one of her pockets. “Should we play a game while we wait?” she asked as she removed two decks of cards. 

“What a splendid idea,” he said and they sat around the table, the Countess and his wife facing him and Alice. As Alice shuffled the cards, he noticed that everyone was following their example. If the Swan thought that he’d get rid of him that easily, he had a surprise coming. Alexandre was not going to move from the room until he’d seen him naked. 

One game turned into two, and they were half-way through the third when the bedroom doors opened again. His Majesty’s page looked dishevelled, as if he had been running back and forth, but his expression was mischievous. Alexandre felt like he was about to bear the brunt of a joke, instead of playing the joke on the Swan. He stood up, and went back into the bedroom.

His Majesty was sitting at the edge of the bed. His hair was still free, with the damp ends falling over his shoulders, yet he still managed to look composed. In fact, he was far too dignified for a man still in his chemise and a dressing gown and whose oversized, fluffy toy of a dog was half-lying across his lap. 

Most of his envoys had reported that the Swan was Quhjani royalty, which meant nothing more than rich peasant in Quhjani terms, but looking at him, he wondered about that. His brother sat in exactly the same haughty manner even when he was dressed in nothing. Perhaps royalty was royalty no matter the country or the amount of wealth, Alexandre thought as he bowed before him. “May we continue now?” he asked, taking the chemise again from Alice. 

“No.”

“As our guest, you must follow our protocol.”

“As Our Host, You should be gracious and allow Us the freedom to continue doing as is Our habit. We are not your king,” he said, firm but at least somewhat polite. 

Before Alexandre could counter, even though he realised that the Swan would argue and tell him ‘no’ until he left, a low, deep voice said something in Bosilik from behind him. 

His courtiers parted as the same time as the Swan’s eyes opened wide. He let out a cry, pushed his dog aside and ran towards the entrance of the anteroom, saying something very fast in his own language. The only word Alexandre could understand was ‘Nikolaj’. Like his courtiers, he turned around to see the next scene of this farce. 

With a gasp, the Swan fell to his knees in front of a ridiculously tall, broad, and handsome dark-haired man and kissed his feet. With a smile that made him look even more beautiful, the man reached down and offered his hand to the Swan, as he spoke to him in the same warm, low tone. The Swan took it, stood up and, for a few moments, they just stared at each other. 

They were such a beautiful couple and they were so absorbed in each other. Alexandre felt a little stupid; the Swan was like the bird in grace and elegance, but also in his mating habits. How could he have thought that he could seduce a swan who’d chosen his partner? Especially a mate as magnificent as the Emperor. 

Reading that he was tall and broad and seeing drawings of him, had not prepared him for the reality. The Emperor was a big man, and he had the face of a god, with chiselled featured and a strong jaw that Alexandre wanted to bite for some reason. 

Before his imagination could run away with him, Alexandre turned his attention to his brother and approached him. “You knew,” he accused him. 

“I had no idea until yesterday evening,” his brother told him, still smirking at him. “I swear.”

He snorted. Like he could believe that. 

He heard the Swan say something to the Emperor. He hadn’t thought that Bosilik was a beautiful language when he’d first heard it, but hearing the Swan and then his Husband converse in a low and loving tone made him change his mind. The next sound was definitely that of a kiss. He glanced at them, saw them trying to devour each other as they hugged, and looked towards his brother again. 

This time, the Swan’s translator, his secretary, and a man dressed in the same uniform as Count Rasoulin, were also in the room, standing in attention a little behind Charles. They were looking at Their Majesties with resigned amusement, as if that was a sight that they were used to but still didn’t know what to make of it. Lucky them. 

He heard the Emperor gasp, and he dared look back at the happy couple. Still embracing, the Emperor was staring at the Swan with adoration. The Swan stared back just as lovingly, touching a little swan that was suspended from a brooch over the Emperor’s chest as if it were the most treasured thing he had ever seen. 

They truly were magnificent together, and they seemed to be made for each other. The Emperor had the right height for the Swan to rest his head against his shoulder, and the Swan could nestle against his broad chest easily. Anyone taller or shorter or broader or slimmer would not fit in the Emperor’s embrace as well as the Swan, and the Emperor’s big and strong arms seemed like they made to hold his husband, who was slim, but not dainty. 

It wasn’t fair at all, and a big part of him was jealous that two such gorgeous people could exist and had found each other. Part of him was enjoying the show, though. Not even the best actors could portray two people so in love with each other, and he definitely had never seen two actors as handsome as these two together. 

The Emperor suddenly lowered his hand and cupped his husband’s ass. He said something that made the Swan freeze. The translator coughed, and the Count glanced at his brother mildly horrified before addressing the Emperor with deference.

The Emperor shrugged, snorted, and replied. His tone expression made clear that he probably told them ‘I don’t care’ to their protest. 

For some reason, that made the Swan laugh. Before Alexandre could take in the sight of the Emperor staring at his husband hungrily and with anticipation, the Swan pushed off his dressing gown, grabbed the hem of his chemise and pulled it off him. He stood still, but he smiled. The Emperor began circling him, and the Swan’s gaze followed him, unashamed and completely uninterested that others were watching them. 

How could two people be so absorbed in each other, seeing nothing but each other in a crowded room? 

“What is he doing?” his brother gasped in shock. “We should go.” He grabbed Alexandre’s arm.

Alexandre refused to move. Naked, the Swan was even more glorious than he’d imagined. The drawings did him no justice. His body could put ancient statues of young gods to shame, and his skin looked so smooth, with nothing but the finest of hairs on his arms and legs and a few curly, reddish-brown tufts on his groin. Compared to Alexandre and Charles, and most of the men Alexandre had been with, the Swan was as hairless as a woman. Was that because he was from the North? How would it feel to touch skin so fine? The Swan’s only imperfection was an old scar on his left arm, where his skin looked even paler than the rest of him. 

“What is he doing?” he whispered, stunned. 

“His Majesty is checking if His Majesty has lost or put on weight,” the translator told him, grinning. 

“He is very concerned about His Majesty’s health,” the newcomer said as seriously as he could, which was just slightly. He made a short comment in Bosilik that made the translator chuckle and had even Count Rasoulin smiling. 

After making a few circles around his husband, the Emperor stopped and smiled, as if he were satisfied by what he’d seen. The Swan asked him something, and the Emperor laughed and stepped closer. Alexandre expected them to start kissing again, but the Emperor grabbed his husband by the waist and lifted him up. With a delighted gasp, the Swan wrapped his arms around the Emperor’s neck and his legs around his waist. The Emperor started carrying him to the bed, saying something that sounded like an order. The Swan nodded and whispered something that must have been the sweetest love word in their language, for the Emperor seemed to melt at the sound and he stopped moving for a second.

“Now we really must go,” his brother told him.

“But, but…” Not even at his private club had he ever seen such a feat of strength, although he had seen other men just as flexible as the Swan. 

“You may stay, if you want,” the translator said as straight-faced as he could be under the circumstances. 

The newcomer and Count Rasoulin nodded with matching smirks, the Count snorting slightly. 

“But, but…” were still the only words Alexandre could manage as he watched the Emperor sit on the edge of the bed, the Swan still wrapped around him and busy kissing him hungrily again. He started feeling uncomfortably warm and heavy, and blood began flowing downwards, gathering in his cock and filling it. 

“Their Majesties don’t mind,” the newcomer said, trying not to laugh.

The Swan slid off his Husband for a moment, only so he could kneel before him and start undressing him. Shoes were pushed away in haste, and the Swan focused on unbuttoning the Emperor’s breeches. At the same time, the Emperor started taking off his coat and upper garments, throwing one after the other carelessly on the floor as he removed them and sitting up for a moment so that his husband could slide his trousers off him. When the Emperor was as naked as the Swan, he caressed his hair before standing up. 

Alexandre stared at him. Or rather, at his groin, where his cock was rising proudly from under a thatch of dark curls. In the name of all the gods, how did _that_ fit in anyone? And if one had _that_ , how could one be satisfied with anything less? No wonder the Swan did not want to mate with him. He probably found all men lacking after being with his husband. 

“But,” his brother said, also frozen as the Emperor pulled his husband up and pushed him down on the bed. “This is outrageous.”

Alexandre glared at him. If they were allowed to stay, then he would stay. The drawings from the Winter Solstice Ball were nothing like the reality of seeing the Emperor cover the Swan with his body and kiss him, nor like seeing how the Swan parted his legs to cradle his Husband between them and played with the Emperor’s hair as they kissed. Paid performers at his private club did not put such a good show. Like fuck he would leave. 

“Having relations with your main wife in public is an old fertility ritual,” the translator said sternly, as if his brother was the outrageous one. “After their long separation, His Majesty is only affirming his right as First Husband of the Land and asks Luck to bless their marriage and the Empire. It is our duty to witness and take part in the ritual and ask Luck to bless us all.” He suddenly smiled wistfully, looking even more handsome than usual. “It is nice to be married when this ritual takes place,” he said softly. 

Alexandre bit back a snort. All his envoys had written to him that the Bosilik used ‘Luck’ as an excuse for anything. He was about to make a joke when he saw his brother’s look at the happy couple. He glanced at them again. They were kissing exactly as one could expect two lovers to kiss after their separation: hungrily, with their whole bodies touching and each embracing the other tightly. Their moans, soft though they were, were arousing. His brother, though, had a calculating expression. 

“Do you think this ritual works for others?” he asked without a trace of irony or amusement.

The Count nodded with a serious expression. “Luck blesses all married couples who take part. There are always many, many children born after the Winter Solstice Ball, when the ritual usually takes place.”

His brother snapped his fingers. “Quick, send word to the Queen and tell her to come here immediately. We command it. Now. Run.”

Alexandre glanced at his wife. She grimaced and turned away, leaving the room. “Well, we are expecting,” he said. “No need for us to take part,” he sighed, wondering if he could at least take his cock out and start stroking himself. He felt he could burst just by the sounds the happy couple was making as they kissed and whispered love words and touched. 

Someone coughed behind him. He turned and saw one of the Hundred, a tall, blond man with bright blue eyes. He had a small slash across his temple, but that somehow made him more attractive and manly. “Yes?”

“I’ve never been with a Royal Prince before. Would you mind indulging me?” He too spoke Valentinois with an accent, but how wonderful their language sounded from his mouth. 

He glanced around. His brother was looking between the door and Their Majesties, as if he were about to ask them to slow down and wait until the Queen was there. His friends who were with their partners had decided to join in the ‘fertility ritual’ as if they were at a private club. Each of his friends who had come to his procession without their partners had started talking to a Guard. 

Really, from where had they come? There had been only two guarding the entrance when he’d arrived, but at that moment, the anteroom was full of them, and possibly the corridor too, from what he could hear. The only ones missing from the room were The Swan’s young page and the dog. 

The Guard smiled at him charmingly. “Since you mind, my friend Valery wouldn’t mind indulging you,” he told him as he presented him with another tall, blond man with an eager smile. 

A third blond man waved at them from behind Valery. “I wouldn’t mind either.”

“Ah, Luca.” The Guard with the small scar grinned at him. “Well, Your Highness? Which one of us do you want to indulge?”

Alexandre found himself praying to all the gods that this fertility ritual worked. Then his brother would repeal his stupid law and make the ‘way of brothers’ legal again. Taking pleasure in men was good, not a waste of seed. 

All his informants had stressed how the Guards were keen to have a lot of fun wherever they went and how easy they were, but, really, one had to see them to believe it. 

“Must I choose?”

“Of course not,” Luca told him with a teasing smile. “This handsome fellow is Maxim, by the way.” 

“Pleased to…” he started but was cut off by Maxim kissing him eagerly at the same time as Luca hugged him from behind and Valery started unbuttoning his trousers. A hand teased his cock with a sweet caress. He closed his eyes and let himself in the care of the Guards. They seemed to know what they were doing.

Maxim’s tongue was a wild, insistent thing and Alexandre surrendered to it, giving up trying to control the kiss in any way. He felt hands on him. They moved on his shoulders, on his chest, on his thighs, on his back, on his ass, caressing him as if they wanted to learn what could make him moan the loudest. When a pair of firm, warm lips closed around the tip of his cock, Alexandre broke the kiss so he could gasp with pleasure and opened his eyes. Maxim grinned at him before kissing his neck. When had they divested him of his clothes? 

He glanced at the Swan and his husband on the bed, curious to see what made their whispered love words break off in gasps. The Swan had one hand around his husband’s neck, and one on his back. The Emperor had one hand lowered between the Swan’s legs, making an unmistakeable motion, while with the other he caressed the Swan’s chest. And they still looked at each other like they were alone in the room. 

The soft lips opened further, and Alexandre felt his cock being taken in by a warm, tight mouth. He looked down and Valery looked up at him with delight. 

“Yes, look at him,” Luca whispered in his ear. “Isn’t he handsome?”

Alexandre shivered. Gods, he was. And he could suck cock like he’d been made for this, his tongue agile, his mouth wet, his hands teasing his balls and making them tighten in his gentle grasp. 

“I like your chest hair,” Luca continued, his hands busy caressing his chest. “It’s soft,” he marvelled, as he pressed himself against his back and rubbed his hot cock against Alexandre’s body. 

“I like the hair on your belly,” Maxim whispered as his hand slid down. “It’s wiry.”

He felt a finger slide across his ass and tease his opening. He gasped again. 

“No?” Maxim asked him gently and the finger left him. 

“No, no, that felt good.”

This time, he smelled oil, and when the finger touched him, it was slick. Alexandre shuddered as it circled and circled his sensitive hole, while Valery drew his cock deeper into his mouth and Maxim’s mouth closed over a nipple, his tongue teasing it to hardness and making his desire stretch from his chest to his belly, where it pooled and gathered. They were making him burn, these three. 

When that finger breached him and pressed against something inside him, Alexandre lost it. He pressed Valery’s head close to his groin and started coming down his throat, closing his eyes and feeling like he was breaking apart, leaving the three to gather all his pieces. 

When he opened his eyes, Valery was licking his lips hungrily, making his cock stir again at the sight. “I should…” he started saying, but his attention was drawn to the bed, where the happy couple had stopped whispering and they were only moaning, the Emperor’s low rumble a perfect match to the Swan’s softer tone. The Emperor’s hand stopped moving and the Swan arched up to embrace his husband, as the Emperor lifted him up to hold him and kiss him. Gods, they were beautiful together. 

Maxim grinned at him. “They’re greatly pleased with each other. You never had a chance, my Royal Prince,” he told him kindly. “Let us comfort you.”

Alexandre looked at him with surprise. “What were you doing so far?”

Luca laughed. “Practice.” He kissed the small of his back. 

Valery smiled at him. “We are a choir. We always practice a lot before a performance.”

“We need to be familiar with the tune,” Maxim added, caressing Alexandre’s chest with both hands. 

“And the instruments,” Luca grinned, rubbing his head on Alexandre’s thigh. 

Alexandre groaned. These three wanted to kill him, he was certain of it. He glanced around, noting that his courtiers were still busy, and most of them were as naked as he was. Further back, his brother’s guards had formed a human fence in front of the day-bed, and were looking at the ceiling with clear disappointment in their faces. 

He looked once more at the bed, where the happy couple was now lying, and they were whispering lovingly to each other again. It was not fair at all that they had each other, while he could only steal moments of happiness with foreign Guards or friends at his private club. 

Maxim tapped him on the shoulder. “Do you want some tea?”

“Or have you had enough?” Valery asked him considerately. 

He grinned and shook his head. What if they wanted to kill him with their incessant lust? There were worst ways to die.


	32. Chapter 32

His darling made a soft sound, something between a chuckle and a purr. “I can’t believe you’re here, My Love,” he whispered, and he tightened his hold around Nikolaj. 

“I told you, I couldn’t wait for you to come back, Darling. And, I can’t believe you just let me have you naked in public,” he grinned. He’d only told Elik that he wanted to see him, and Elik had stripped for him without hesitation, with pride even. And when he said that he wanted to take him regardless of who watched, Elik had accepted it so easily. “And fucked in public too,” he murmured, still happily surprised. 

Elik kissed his nipple, making him shiver. “Did you not like it?” he asked coyly. 

Nikolaj caressed the top of his darling’s head and pressed him closer to him. “I loved it. I just thought…”

“As I wrote you, we must learn how to accommodate each other’s desires. I had a lot of time to think about it.” His darling looked at him. His expression was serious, but his tone was loving and sweet. “I don’t mind if you want to show me off, or fuck me when people watch. I’m not ashamed of us. As long as you never, ever share me,” he finished and there his expression and voice turned desperate. This was not an order, but a plea. 

Nikolaj nodded. He’d come all the way to Valentin determined to be a Good Husband, so he had to be as accommodating as His Darling. Since his darling let him show him off, he’d agree to His Darling’s term and never break his word again. “This I vow to you, I will never share you,” he promised Elik and was rewarded with a kiss over his heart. 

Ah, but there would never be another chance like that once they left Valentin – not until the Winter Solstice Ball. He wondered for a moment if maybe he needed to think about why, after his first words and thoughts upon seeing his darling kneel before him (“My King, My Husband, rise and let me hold you,”), and after his second request (“My Husband, your clothes hide your body from me – let me see if you are well”), his third demand was “I want to fuck you with the doors open now.” Shouldn’t that have been just ‘I want to fuck you now?’ 

He sighed, leaving the thought for another moment. “I’m glad you think that way, but…”

His darling put his finger on Nikolaj’s mouth. “You want to talk work. Can’t it wait? My Love, My Husband, My Nikolaj, can I have one day where we are just Husband and Husband and you are not the Emperor, while I am not your Consort of Imperial Rank?”

Nikolaj grinned. He didn’t need to look into the anteroom to know what was happening. The noises coming from there revealed that Charles’ courtiers were still fucking their Guards. “My Love, My Husband, My Elik, we are in an official visit at the court of King Charles of Valentin and we just corrupted half his court. I think we couldn’t stay away from work today, even if we tried.”

“Yes, you’re right, we corrupted them,” he snickered. “Still, can’t we stay like this for now, My Love?” Elik closed his eyes as he laid his head to rest against Nikolaj’s chest again. “I’ve longed to be in your arms for months. How I missed you.” He nuzzled him as he made another noise like a purr or a sigh. “But, why didn’t you take me?” he asked, opening his eyes to stare at him. 

Nikolaj looked at him, feeling like he could stare into that clear, curious gaze forever. It had been tempting, but after so much time apart, it would take him forever to open his darling for him. He was hungry for his Love: he didn’t want to wait that long. And, the sad truth was, that even a long preparation might not be enough after all these months; the last thing he wanted was to make his darling freeze or cry in pain as he fucked into him. He needed time, and he needed to be calm and have his hunger satisfied before he took him. 

“I’ll do that later.” He smiled. “After you take me. I want you to come inside me, and when you are all relaxed, and I have spent my seed on you once already, then I will open you slowly and prepare you for me.” 

His darling shivered and his eyes showed his delight. “I so want to take you, Husband,” he whispered even more softly than usual. “And I want you in me. I want you to burn me from inside.”

Nikolaj grinned. “Some guardians,” he laughed. 

“You got my letters from Fladd?” His darling asked excitedly. 

“Yes. I caught up with the courier as I was leaving the Empire, but I was afraid that if I replied to them from there, then you might have suspected something. So, you hired doctors and painters and you learned all about the male body, my Clever and Sweet Darling?”

Elik nodded. “You don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind when you do good things for Our Land?” He leaned down and rubbed the tip of his nose against Elik’s. “I really love doing this. Your nose is so soft and cute,” he whispered, making his darling snort with amusement. “Later you will show me where the prostates are, so I can tease them and stroke them and make you very, very pleased with me.” 

“Anything you do pleases me,” his darling whispered and kissed him again. 

He chuckled. “And you please me greatly, Darling. Tell me, did you use anything while I was away? Just so I know how much work I’ll have to do tonight.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Training cocks are not the same. I thought I had written it to you,” he said, reaching down to cover Nikolaj’s cock with his warm, soothing palm. “The postal service is so slow. What can we do to improve it?”

“Short of using birds to take messages, nothing.”

“Hm. As much as I like the idea, I don’t think birds can carry anything but the tiniest of letters.”

He grinned. His Love was so fond of writing long letters to him. “So true. Hm… maybe we need to look for faster horses for Our couriers. We should find the best and fastest ones in the Empire and breed them.”

“Horse racing is very popular at Aedley. Maybe we could get some horses from among the winners at the races to improve our stock?”

“Maybe. That is a good idea, darling. We will send a message and…” He laughed. “Darling, you’re making Us talk work.”

His darling chuckled. “Sorry. Ah, I missed you so much. Kissing you, holding you, talking to you.”

“I’ve missed you too, My Love.” He listened to the sounds from the anteroom. “Our hosts are still enjoying themselves. Your idea has merit; let’s be Husband and Husband for now,” he said as he lowered his hand so he could touch his darling’s dick again. It pulsed happily under his touch. “We can work later.”

His darling smiled at him. “Thank you, Husband.”

“You’re welcome, Husband.”

“Should I show you where the prostates are now?”

“Why not?”

He felt his darling’s hand move lower and lower. He teased his balls with his fingernails. 

“I don’t think they are there, but keep doing this,” Nikolaj grinned, feeling them tighten a bit. 

“I have missed you so much,” Elik sighed as he rubbed Nikolaj’s balls very softly with his palm and caressed their base with his fingertips. 

“I am certain,” he nodded, as he continued stroking his darling’s cock. “And so have I. Your cock looks prettier to me after all these months. I so want to suck you off.”

“Your Imperial Dignity,” Elik gasped, dismayed. “You can’t.”

“Says who?” he grinned, and made to move.

“But if you move now, it will be harder for me to reach down and show you where…” Elik’s finger teased the soft skin behind his balls. Nikolaj suddenly felt something jolt him from the point where Elik was pressing. “The prostates are,” his darling continued as he rubbed the same spot. 

The waves of pleasure made him dizzy. “Darling,” he groaned, going limp on the bed and at the same time feeling his whole body tighten. “Oh, this feels good,” he moaned. 

“And you can reach them from inside too, but I can’t be bothered to find the oil now,” his darling told him with the ‘sorry, I’m not sorry’ tone.

Together with the touch, his darling’s voice made Nikolaj’s desire crest inside him. He felt like he was falling, happy and sated and his Love, proud and beautiful and helpful was there to catch him. How happy he was. 

When he opened his eyes, Elik was napping peacefully wrapped around him. He glanced at the anteroom and saw that their hosts were still busy, most of them with the Guards. He smirked; the Guards seemed awfully obliging and nice. 

Petting his darling’s fine hair, feeling his soft breath warm his chest, Nikolaj raised his pillow so he could watch the Guards better. They really seemed to know what they were doing. His darling was made of really stern stuff; in his place, Nikolaj would have tried each one of them personally. And then done it again, just to make sure of the quality of their fucking. 

He glanced at His Love. No, this man was enough for him. His Darling, His Sweet, His Treasure, His Precious, His One and Only Love who enjoyed fucking as much as Nikolaj. Although, really, that Guard at the far left seemed to have no bones in his body; how had he twisted himself like that? Were his feet really behind his ears or were his eyes deceiving him? 

And the ones in the centre of the room looked like snakes mating, all wrapped in each other, kissing and touching fervently. He could count five heads, because that was the only way he could tell how many there were in that pile. Or… no, six….seven? He shook his head, grinning. 

Young people; they made him feel old and exhausted just by watching them. It was so good that he too had a young man in his arms, who’d soon open his eyes and would be all excited and eager to be pleased. Ah, how he had missed His Love. No past lover had ever shown his ardour. 

Even if Charles kicked them out of Sorain at the point, he could consider his journey a success. He’d had the assurance that half the kings that mattered would leave him alone to pursue his actions regarding Oerestand, he knew that he had to keep a close eye on Leopold as well as Francis, and he had His Darling.

What more could he want? 

&*&*

Between a lazy morning, doing nothing but caressing and kissing each other between short naps, a quick lunch and a long walk in the gardens of Sorain, the day had passed easily and quickly. Truly, he hadn’t realized how large the gardens were until he strolled together with His Darling, holding his hand as they looked here and there. Nor had he realized how big Charles’ palace was until he saw it from garden’s main avenue. It really was designed to hold all his courtiers, even the ones who were not invited to the first of the formal dinners celebrating Charles’ ten-year anniversary. 

And what a dinner that was. The food was delicious, the wine was the best he’d had in years, Charles’ musicians had played the most delightful airs, and even though he was seated to the right of Queen Philippa, as protocol demanded, and not next to his darling, he had enjoyed himself tremendously. He tapped on his glass to make everyone fall silent, and then he stood up. “Brother,” he said, raising his glass to Charles, “Here’s to many more years of married bliss.” He drank a little, leading the toast. 

“You really are a pervert,” Ferdinand huffed once he put down his glass. 

Next to him Queen Philippa blushed. As if anyone had paid attention to what she was doing with her husband, since everyone was busy with their own partners. He’d already told her that, but probably he needed to repeat it. 

“And what is worse, is that no one told me anything,” Ferdinand laughed. “I found out at lunch. Shame on you. I demand a repeat.”

Charles cleared his throat. “We would not feel happy participating in a ritual with Our Brother-in-law watching.”

“I wouldn’t watch, I’d be busy,” Ferdinand grinned. “Sister, who is that lady with the pink lace chocker? She’s new to your court?”

Queen Philippa nodded. “Is that why you didn’t bring your wife? So you could be free to go after Our Ladies?”

“My Sweet wife is busy with our youngest. Poor Franzie is teething and he’s impossible. Only Louise’s embraces can soothe him.”

Charles and his wife shared a look.

“I hope nothing happens to him,” Ferdinand continued with a miserable expression. “You may be sad because you have no children, but I think you are lucky for not having known the loss of a young one. Louise and I have lost three of our seven little ones. I so hope that I will find both of them well when I am back. My Antoine’s fever also started when she was teething and…” He drank a little, sighing. 

“It is bad luck to talk of such matters on a happy occasion,” Nikolaj told him seriously. “I share your hope to find your family well and healthy upon your return,” he said as he drank to that.

They all raised their glass and drank in silence. 

“It is a happy occasion, indeed,” his darling said. “If Your Majesties permit, We have prepared a little gift to thank you for inviting Us.”

Nikolaj grinned. What had his darling planned? 

Charles smiled. “Of course, We permit.” 

“Is it the Choir?” Queen Philippa whispered to him, looking more than curious. 

“I don’t know, but I hope so,” he told her just as quietly. 

It really was the Choir. The Guards started entering the banqueting hall, drawing the attention of everyone, and making people fall quiet. They really were magnificent. His darling loved him very much indeed and was greatly pleased with him, if he could be around these temptations all day and never be tempted. 

Queen Philippa sighed softly with admiration, but stayed quiet, watching as the Guards arranged themselves. 

His darling stood up. He didn’t even have to tap his glass; everyone was still too curious, and perhaps a little in awe. “Your Majesties, We would like to wish you all the happiness that a married couple can have,” he said and nodded towards the Royal Composer before taking his seat between Charles and Ferdinand. 

The Royal Composer bowed to them. “This is the Triumph of Love over Time.” He turned back towards the Choir and raised his baton. 

Nikolaj leaned forward so he could look at his Elik and smile at him for a moment before leaning back and enjoying the Choir. One of the Guards started singing a slow tune in Valentinois. Half of the Choir joined him a few words later. 

The more they sang, the prouder he felt. Truly, this was a piece that was just as delightful and dignified as what Charles’ musicians had played during dinner, and what made it even better was that no one had expected it. It wasn’t just him looking at the Choir with genuine surprise at listening a piece of proper court music. 

He thought at something Prince Anton had told him. He truly had a Consort worth fighting for, but more importantly, he had a Consort he wanted to make happy. He wouldn’t talk work as much as he could during this visit, he decided. 

He’d save all their work talks for their trip. They would have two long weeks between Lanault and Yastba. That would give them plenty of time to work. For now, they should enjoy the dinners and the gardens and the music. They deserved it. 

&*&*

His darling had attacked him the moment they had entered their rooms, and hadn’t stopped since. Even though kissing his darling was one of his favourite activities in the world, he really had to stop so he could talk to him. “Your surprise gift was excellent and well-received. I hope your Royal Composer will write such music for Our court too.”

“Hmmm,” his darling nodded as he finished undressing him and captured his lips in another kiss. 

He pulled away. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I waited for five hours to kiss you. I’m so hungry for you.”

Nikolaj grinned. He wasn’t surprised that they had managed to show restraint during the dinner, but how had they managed during the fireworks display was still beyond him. “So am I, but I also want to go to the privy. Can you wait?”

His darling laughed. “No, but I must,” he said as he let released him from his arms.

By the time he was finished, his darling was in his chemise. “Why isn’t there a second privy room here? I now need to use it too,” he said as he passed him by on his way to the privy and touching him briefly on his arm.

“Who knows? We only have one in Our bedroom too. Darling, may I brush your hair tomorrow? I noticed that it’s grown longer.”

“Yes, I was too busy to cut it lately. I will do that tomorrow,” his darling told him loudly from the privy. 

“No, no, I like it. Do you know that in the Bright Empire the men never cut their hair?”

“Do you want me to try starting a new fashion, My Love?” Elik laughed. “After no wigs and no make-up? Ah, but no, long hair is not for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because then my Guards would follow my latest fashion, and long hair do not become soldiers.”

He lay on the bed, grinning. This was the last answer he expected, yet, it really was what he should have. “You really care about Your Guards so much?” 

His darling didn’t reply immediately, but Nikolaj could hear him washing himself. When those noises stopped as well, his darling came out of the privy and came to lie beside him. 

Nikolaj covered them both and hugged him. How he had missed Elik next to him, his warm weight, his soft breath, his caressing fingers, his teasing toes. “I’m not jealous of them,” he reassured his darling. “I know you only love me.”

Elik smiled at him. “I do.” He kissed his chest. “My Guards… They are the only ones who were always kind to me, except for Lady Ekaterina and the Chancellor. I have no other friends, My Lord. Of course, I care for them.” He nuzzled him. “You know, I felt more welcome when I visited your camp for a week in the middle of a war than I felt for two years at Ivanhof.”

He sighed. “Darling, we really need to talk about that, but… Like you, I want to have a few days without work and just enjoy the sweetness of our love. Can we postpone this discussion until we start traveling back?”

“The idea has merit,” Elik replied immediately. “I have missed you so much,” he said as he started kissing his chest again. 

Nikolaj gasped. “Yes, oh, yes… oh, what is that noise?” A low, weird sound was coming from somewhere.

Elik stopped and raised his head. “Oleg.” He smiled awkwardly at Nikolaj. “He whines when he’s not in the room with me.”

“Well, I’m not fucking you in front of Oleg.”

“Really?” Elik burst into laughter. “You can fuck me in front of strangers and friends, but not Oleg?”

“It’s different.” Friends and strangers didn’t look at people with the same attention as dogs. 

Still laughing, Elik left him, picked up his dressing gown and put it on. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he took something out of a box. 

Curious, Nikolaj got up and followed him. 

The moment Elik opened the door of the anteroom, Oleg started jumping up. “Down, Oleg. Down.” When Oleg obeyed, Elik gave him something. “Good Oleg,” he said as he scratched him behind his ears. “Good night, Oleg,” he said as he led the dog to a rug, made him sit, knelt down and scratched him again. “Good night.” He gave him another treat. “Good night, Oleg. Good Oleg, go to sleep.” 

He grinned at Nikolaj as he stood up. “Oleg knows that ‘good night’ means I’m going to leave him alone for a few hours. But we need to let him in the room in the morning, or he will be very worried.”

Nikolaj looked at the dog. He was lying quietly on his rug, but was staring at them intently. He was as terribly cute as his darling, who was staring at him with an earnest expression. “Maybe we need to let Oleg stay with Dima for a while. I don’t think my ardour for you will be spent during the night. I have plans for the morning too.”

“Husband!” Elik cried happily as he ran to him. “Oh, how I have missed you.”

How he had missed him too. Especially like this, laughing and running excitedly. It had been quite some time year since he’d seen Elik like that, perhaps more than a year, he suddenly thought. How could he not have realized how His One and Only was miserable? He opened his arms and Elik ran into his arms, letting Nikolaj trap him between them. 

His darling nuzzled his chest. “Oh, how I have missed you,” he whispered. “But now you are here. Oh, My Love.”

He kissed the top of Elik’s head. “And what does My Love want me to do so that I can please him?”

Elik’s reply was a soft, happy trill. 

How he had missed his noises. He started walking backwards, Elik following him. “My Love?”

“I want to take you but I also want to hold you. This makes me so happy.”

“Can’t you do both?” he smiled.

“Well…” 

His calves hit the side of the bed, and he fell back with his darling still in his arms. Elik looked at his expression that was no doubt surprised and laughed as if that was the funniest thing in the world. “What?”

“I have missed you so much,” he said and started kissing him again. 

How had he managed to live without Elik’s sweet, possessive kisses for so many months? He wanted nothing but to play with his darling’s tongue, to pull it into his mouth and caress it with his tongue before sliding away from it so he could lick his darling’s mouth. So, that’s what he did. 

How had he managed to live without Elik’s hands on his skin for so many months? No one else ever touched him with so much reverence and hunger. It was… it reminded him of the time around their second wedding. Elik had been just as frantic then, and unable to stop touch him. But this time was better, because they knew each other better. 

He knew that if he pressed his palm at the small of Elik’s back and left his hand there, Elik would shiver moments later, and push back, like a cat demanding to be petted. And if Elik was lying on top of him, then he would also nuzzle him. So, that’s what he did, and Elik did not disappoint him. He broke the kiss and nuzzled his cheek. 

Nikolaj reached for the side table, opened the first drawer, and searched for the bottles of oil with his fingertips. When he found one, he rolled it close, grabbed it, and took it out. He glanced at it. Ah! “I bought lavender oil at Reverdes. Want to try it?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” 

Elik reached for it with a look of such excitement that Nikolaj had to laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. How do you want me?”

“I… I can’t decide. I’ve been wanting you for so long and now that you are here, I don’t know where to start.”

“Start randomly.”

Elik slid off him. “Alright. I want…” He stared at him, breathing deeply. “I want to look at you. And hold you. Can you spread your legs for me?”

Nikolaj did and Elik settled between them. He took off his night clothes and stroked his already hard cock once. “How can anyone be as beautiful as you?” he whispered with awe in his voice and his eyes. 

He shrugged. “Luck, I guess?”

With a smile, his darling opened the bottle and the scent of lavender filled the air around them. “Your ancestors blessed you greatly,” he said as he poured some oil on his fingers and dragged them down Nikolaj’s balls. 

Nikolaj shivered. “Darling?” he said as Elik started rubbing his opening softly, with a look of concentration as if he were doing something that demanded a lot of thought. 

“Love?”

“Can you move, so I can suck your pretty cock as you prepare me? Or maybe….”

With a nod, his darling shifted. He knelt over Nikolaj’s head, leaned down supporting himself on one arm, and continued teasing Nikolaj. Because he was such a tease, his lips closed over the tip of Nikolaj’s cock in a kiss, and then they opened and took him in his warm mouth. He shuddered at the double pleasure that wracked his body for a moment, before he could get used to it.

Nikolaj looked at the sight above him, tempted to tickle his darling’s toned stomach for just a moment. Instead, with one hand he reached for the side table again, and tried to find another bottle. With the other, he caressed the smooth skin on his darling’s stomach, carded his fingers through the small curls on his darling’s groin, and his hand finally closed around his prize. His darling was beautiful everywhere, his skin was soft everywhere, and his heart was strong, blood pumping through his veins in a steady beat. 

Nikolaj enjoyed feeling his darling’s rhythm for a few moments. When he was satisfied and with a smile, he took out the bottle he’d grabbed, opened it, and poured some oil on his fingers. The scent of rose was as strong as that of lavender, he realized immediately.

His darling stopped his gentle sucking, but not the circling of his hole with his slick finger. “Love?”

“I will start preparing you for me now. I don’t think I can wait until later. Not when your ass is right in front of my face and it looks in need of attention,” he grinned. 

“Does it?” His finger finally breeched Nikolaj. 

Nikolaj took a deep breath. He’d forgotten how weird it felt at first to be opened. All he’d remembered was how good it felt afterwards. He kissed the cheek right in front of him. “Yes. It looks like it hasn’t been touched in months. What a shame. Such a pretty thing, left untouched,” he said.

“This pretty thing belongs to My Husband. No one else can touch it,” Elik replied, and there was some slight annoyance in his voice.

Did his darling expect him to say something about it being shared? He was a man of his word and his darling was about to be surprised. He made a noise of appreciation from deep down his throat. “Lucky Husband,” he said, amused that he almost purred the words as he parted his darling’s ass with his hands and his little hole was revealed to him. “Yes, he is a very lucky Husband indeed. What a treasure lies here.”

With a huff of amusement, Elik started sucking him again. How soft his lips against his sensitive cock. How gently his love prepared him. He was a lucky Husband indeed, and he was a Good Husband too, he thought as he teased his darling’s hole. They’d be preparing each other for the better part of the next hour, he was certain of it, but they had time. 

Just as he’d predicted, it took his love forever to deem him ready for him. But what fun it had been to feel his darling slowly stretching him as he kept up the maddening kissing and sucking that only teased and promised, but offered no release. His desire was kept burning steady, although every time he managed to stretch his darling further and press another finger in him, he felt a spike in his blood and the flames of passion burned even more hotly in his belly. He wanted to fuck his darling as much as he wanted to be fucked by him. 

He sighed as Elik moved away from him.

“What is the matter, Love?” his darling asked with concern. 

“Training cocks.”

“Excuse me?”

“I just spent…” he refused the urge to find his watch and check the time, “all this time opening you for me, but now you will fuck me and your hole will close a little. If we had a training cock, I could keep you stretched.”

Elik frowned, and made a soft noise of agreement. He looked around. 

So did Nikolaj. “We could use the candles?”

“No,” his darling replied immediately. He continued looking around. “Oh, fuck,” he sighed.

“What?”

“I just had an idea, but…” he stood up, muttering something as he ran to the corner where they’d put his luggage after he moved from the Duke’s to the King’s retreat, and started rummaging through them. A few moments later, he turned around showing a tube to Nikolaj. “This is the case of a portable telescope I bought in Fladd. It pains me to use this, but it is the right shape, is it not?”

Nikolaj thought of it. It was the right shape, but it was not as long as the candles, nor did it have the wide base of training cocks. What if there were an accident? Explaining how he got a tube up his darling’s ass would be even more embarrassing than talking to his doctor about the diseases that sometimes came with pleasure. “No, I wouldn’t want you to use something that is precious to you. We can manage without it.”

Elik put it back in his luggage with a happy smile before coming back to him, his cock bobbing on his stomach as he moved. “So, where were we?”

Nikolaj opened his legs even more widely. “We were at the point where you fuck into me. Darling, how I have missed you.”

His darling’s smile grew happier. “I too have missed you,” he said as he climbed on the bed and knelt between his legs. 

Nikolaj bent his knees and grabbed his thighs, keeping himself open. “I can’t wait for you, Love.”

Elik looked at him hungrily. He took a deep breath and the head of his cock touched Nikolaj’s hole, sliding over it.

“Love, enough with the teasing, please,” he begged him. It felt good, but that was not what he wanted. No, he wanted to feel his darling slide inside him.

With an intense look of desire and concentration, his darling obliged him. He groaned deeply as he was stretched. “Darling, don’t stop. I want to feel your balls touch my ass and then I want you to pound into me. Please.”

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Elik moaned as he started entering him slowly. He reached and grabbed Nikolaj’s hands from his thighs, entwining their fingers as he pressed them on the bed. “My Love,” he sighed happily as he moved, his dick warm and heavy and feeling so good inside him. 

Nikolaj stared at him. “My Love,” he gasped. “You feel amazing.” He grinned. “When you fuck me, I think I was made for you.”

“And I was made for you.” 

They smiled as Elik bottomed out inside him, making feel so full. 

“Husband, I want to move,” Elik told him. 

How sweet his darling, deferring to him in their bed even when he fucked him. He nodded. 

Staring at him lovingly, his darling pulled away and slammed into him. Then he did it again, fucking him as fast as he could. Nikolaj shuddered at the intensity of the look Elik was giving him, part adoration, and part possession. He’d forgotten how Elik could get completely lust-crazy sometimes. He’d only remembered how much he loved being fucked raw by him. He grinned. “More.”

Elik leaned down. Nikolaj surged. Their mouths met in a kiss as Elik really pounded him just as he needed. How wonderful the feeling of being stretched, of being fucked, of being possessed. How wonderful to have his darling’s tongue seek his, and he could taste the sweetness of him. How his desire finally broke free, and the flame that was burning steadily inside him now consumed him. How wonderful. 

Nikolaj freed one hand and started stroking himself, trying to match his caresses with his darling’s furious thrusts. How he burned with love and pleasure. No one else could do what Elik did. He moaned low into his throat, feeling his desire rise and rise. 

“I’m coming, Love,” he cried, breaking the kiss and closing his eyes as his whole body tensed for a long, wonderful moment, where everything was pleasure. That moment stretched and stretched, until his seed erupted from him, and suddenly, he was One with His Love. 

He opened his eyes to a feeling of warmth inside him, and a sweet, sweaty face smiling above him. “Ah, My Love.” He reached with his sticky hand and caressed Elik’s mouth, not surprised when the tease started sucking his finger clean. He liked what he saw, and desire started pooling inside him again. “Give me a few minutes to rest,” he smiled. “Then we can see if I opened you as well as you prepared me.”

&*&*

Nikolaj stretched. The first day of the official visit had gone well. The second should go even better… But something was wrong. Where was Elik? He opened his eyes, and they confirmed what he’d felt: he was alone in the room. “Darling?”

“Over here,” his darling replied from the other room. “Oleg was restless.”

He frowned. 

“I’ll be right back,” Elik continued. 

Did his darling love Oleg more than him? He closed his eyes, and went back to sleep. 

&*&*

The second time he woke up at that morning, his darling was nestled against him. He smiled happily. All was as it should be… Or, almost all, he thought, feeling a strange warmth coming not from his darling, but above him. He opened his eyes and looked straight into a black snout sticking out of white fur. He blinked but Oleg was still there, looking down at him with what seemed like a smile on his face and sniffing him delicately. 

He nudged his darling. “Elik, Elik,” he whispered. “Darling. Love. Wake up.”

“Hm?”

“Oleg is here,” he continued in the same quiet voice. 

“Hm,” his darling agreed. 

He nudged him again. “Love, he’s staring at me.”

“Hm.” Elik opened one eye, stared at Oleg, and made another noise. “Oleg, down.” He suddenly sat up. “Oleg? What’s wrong? He only comes so far up when he’s ill,” he explained as he reached over Nikolaj so he could grab the dog and hold him in his arms. “Oleg, how are you?”

Oleg licked Elik’s face. 

“Oleg,” his darling said in the delighted tone he used whenever Nikolaj had done something new and exciting in bed. “You’re fine.” Elik looked at him from behind the dog’s neck. “Nikolaj, I think Oleg wanted to meet you. Will you say ‘hi’?”

He stared at his darling. He did love the dog more than him. 

“Oleg,” his darling continued, “you should be in your bed, not mine. Now I have My Husband, and he will look after me. You will, won’t you?”

He froze for a moment. Where was his clever and sophisticated Husband from the night before? How could Elik be so cute and naïve when they were alone? Adorable though he was, Nikolaj tried to ignore the awkward feeling rising inside him. He wasn’t there just to look after his darling, or just because he missed him. He was there because he wanted to go off to war, and leave him again. “Perhaps Oleg can stay,” he said quietly, smiling a little. 

“Does this mean that you no longer have plans for this morning? You spent all your ardour last night?” Elik asked him innocently. 

Nikolaj’s smile turned into a grin. Oh, no, he wasn’t naïve; he was just teasing him. Wasn’t he the luckiest man in the world, to have a Husband whose lust was as hearty as his? He stood up, picked up Oleg from his darling and went out. 

He handed the dog to the Guards outside their room. “We are not to be disturbed,” he said. “And get someone to walk Oleg.”

The moment he closed the door behind him, he heard the Guards laugh. “What is wrong with them?”

“You’re naked, Love,” Elik said as he sat up and took off his chemise. “But now so am I. Come to me, My Husband.”

Laughing, Nikolaj approached him. How could he refuse?


	33. Chapter 33

The second day of the celebrations for Charles’ ten-year anniversary had ended with a dinner that was as extravagant as the one of the day before. This one Nikolaj had enjoyed more, since protocol was not followed strictly, and instead of having all the crowned heads in one long table, each couple had their table, so he could sit by his darling. This was Valentin protocol for the Valentin king, it was explained to him: the king and queen ate alone in their table, while everyone else sat at long tables around them. Who cared? He could sit next to his love, that’s all that mattered. 

“I can’t wait for dinner to be over,” his darling said. “I’m…”

Queen Philippa stood up, and everyone fell silent. She was a beautiful woman, but that night she looked even more radiant, her pale skin looking even as fine as porcelain in her gold brocade dress decorated with dark blue irises, the emblem of Valentin, and with strings of pearls around her delicate throat and her dark hair. Her posture and grace reminded everyone that she was the daughter and sister of an Emperor, and the wife of a King. “I want to thank you all for joining Us in celebrating ten years of marriage.” She nodded towards her husband. “Sire, You have given me all the happiness in the world. Allow me to give you my thanks.” She turned towards the others. “And allow me to lead the other wives in offering thanks to their husbands.”

“What is this? What does she mean?” his darling asked him softly. 

“I have no idea.” 

She walked to the middle of the room, accompanied by six of her Ladies-in-waiting, all dressed in dark blue dresses and with necklaces composed of single or double strands of pearls, complimenting their Queen. The King’s brother, also dressed in dark blue, but with the Valentin irises in gold signifying his royal birth, led forward six of their courtiers. “We have prepared a little performance for you, Sire.” 

The musicians started playing a sweet and slow melody, as the couples joined hands and danced forward, then parted, then joined hands again, before leaving the stage for the Queen and the Duke to dance together. 

“I think that’s Charles’ idea,” Nikolaj whispered. “Someone had mentioned a contest of Consorts the other night.”

“A what?”

“A contest where each of the Husbands praises his Consort and claims she’s the best. A game one can’t win, since the Hostess is always the best Consort.” 

“That was not in the Book of Conduct,” his darling remarked with a huff. 

“Why would it be? We have no such silly things in Bosilke. Everyone knows the Hostess is always the best consort, and at Bosilke that’s the Empress.” He put his hand on Elik’s thigh and squeezed the firm flesh. “If she makes you perform, do whatever you like. Since you won’t win, you should enjoy yourself.”

Elik smiled at him. “Thank you. She’s a very graceful dancer. And so is he. He’s a pest, but it looks like’s he’s good at something.”

Nikolaj wondered what the story behind the comment was, but before he could ask, the Queen and the Duke finished the dance. She curtsied to Charles, while the Duke gave him a small bow. 

Charles stood up, clapping wildly and everyone joined him. 

Queen Philippa raised her closed fan and pointed it at Queen Amalia of Fladd, before taking her place next to Charles. 

Queen Amalia, a tall beauty with light blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and a curvaceous figure, had also dressed splendidly for the occasion, in a purple brocade dress and swathes of lace around her arms. Unlike Queen Philippa, she wore few ornaments: a pair of large pearl earrings, and a single strand of pearls around her neck. Well, what was the point of wearing necklaces or brooches, when her breasts drew the gaze of all men and women? And judging by the way the lace over her breasts only highlighted how rounded and generous her bosom was, she knew it well. 

Hm, it seemed that the fashion now was for pearls, and not diamonds. He had to ask his darling how he felt about them. 

Queen Amalia gestured to one of her maids-of-honour, an equally blonde and pale young woman, and she produced a type of lute that he hadn’t seen before. Oh, how quickly the fashions changed in the West, and how far they were from them. 

“I think they all came prepared, My Love,” he told Elik. That was a very mean joke to play to his darling. 

“Obviously,” Elik snorted, sounding just as annoyed as Nikolaj felt. “If My Lord permits it, I will be outrageous, should I be asked to perform.” 

Nikolaj was certain that his love would not avoid doing something in his honour. He smiled at him softly. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you, nor would I want anything else.”

With a grateful smile, Elik took out his notebook, tore a page and handed it to Dima, who had been standing in attention behind him, next to Boris, Nikolaj’s attendant. The young man hurried out. 

Queen Amalia stood up. “This is a piece I wrote for you, Sire. It is called ‘Happy the hours that we spend’.” She curtsied to Henrik before sitting down. She didn’t even have to check if her instrument was tuned. How mean was the person who had come up with that idea. 

She started playing a piece that could easily be danced, happy and rhythmic, but not wildly exuberant. It also demanded great skill; even he could understand that the seemingly simple melody was produced by playing very quickly. As she played on, it became even faster, but retained its charming character. 

“It’s like being in a garden in a summer’s evening,” Elik told him with a gentle sigh. “Just as light and pleasant. It’s beautiful. If this were a fair contest, she could have won it.”

“Not everyone has competed yet.”

“It is a most charming piece,” he told him seriously. “And how nimble her fingers,” he sighed as if he were lovestruck. 

Judging from the way Henrik looked at his Queen, it pleased him greatly. Or maybe just watching his Queen pleased him greatly. He could understand that very well. Nikolaj squeezed Elik’s thigh again. What a stupid idea; why couldn’t Charles call an end to the festivities, have some fireworks, and let them all retire to their bedrooms and enjoy their spouses? 

Despite his jokes about the Guards making him feel old, Nikolaj knew he was not an old man yet, and neither were any of his Royal Brothers in that room. They were all young and lustful, Otto the oldest among them with his thirty-eight years, and Henrik the youngest at twenty-nine. Their manly passions surely burned hot in all of them. Except maybe Otto. He didn’t look like he enjoyed himself much in the bedroom – or anywhere else for that matter. 

Queen Amalia finished with a sequence of languid notes and nodded towards Otto’s Queen Sophia. For the second night, Nikolaj wondered about her; did Otto choose her clothes? Her chestnut hair seemed velvety soft, and her dark eyes and red mouth promised pleasure, but she was dressed in a black dress that covered her from neck to toes, as if she were an old widow. All the consorts were beautiful in their way, but Sophia could have been the most desirable of all, if only she had dressed like the others, and showed off her beauty. What a miserable man Otto was. 

She stood up, curtsied in response, and then sat down again. Next, surprising everyone, she reached under the table and lifted a violin, not even asking one of her ladies to fetch her instrument. 

“Like my Royal Sister, I also like to compose music. This is called ‘Sweet torment’.” She started playing something slow and repetitive that became faster and faster but still kept the same basic motif. 

“What is that?”

“It’s beautiful,” His darling sighed, seemingly entranced. Of course, he would like it, it had started off slow and now it was becoming furiously fast, but kept the main motif. It was not what he would have expected from the consort that Otto had described as prim and proper. Perhaps Otto didn’t know her as well as he thought. Nikolaj smiled at Otto’s look of surprise at seeing his Queen play with such passion.

“Something tells me Sophia is bored at her court,” he murmured, making his darling grin. 

“Maybe we can invite her? I really like her music. And invite Queen Amalia too? Her music is different, but just as beautiful. Had I known she likes music as much as I do, I would have tried to get an invitation for her court.”

Nikolaj wondered if Queen Amalia had been snubbing his darling, or trying to give him the privacy he wanted, since he was travelling under an assumed name. Her husband seemed to be the Choir’s biggest fan, after all, and Elik had mentioned that he’d attended only a couple of NOT-official dinners at Fladd. Perhaps Henrik and Amalia had been kind to his Love. He nodded. “Maybe we can.”

She finished, curtsied to Otto, and gestured towards Queen Charlotte of Rodtal. She had dark blonde curls and what a pretty, little pouty mouth she had, and what bright eyes. Her best features, though, were that she was short and a little plump. Oh, how much fun Leopold must have had with her cute, little love handles as he covered her with his body. For a moment, Nikolaj envied him. 

On the other hand, if his darling became plumper, then maybe it wouldn’t be as easy to lift him up as it was. How Nikolaj loved grabbing him and holding him and putting him over his shoulders, or in his arms and…

“I think I know who’s behind this little farce,” his darling said with the tiniest of sighs, disrupting Nikolaj’s thoughts. 

He looked and saw Queen Charlotte take the arm of the king’s brother. “The Pest? Later, you will explain?”

“Of course.”

He watched as the Duke and Queen Charlotte danced One fine morning. Unlike the first dance, this one he knew already, but these two danced it beautifully and it was a joy to watch them. The Duke really was a great dancer, and Queen Charlotte was even more graceful than Queen Philippa. She was also dressed in a yellow silk dress that suited her complexion and hair perfectly. Of all the Consorts, she looked like she would be the most fun to bed, he decided when the Duke lifted her up, and he caught a glimpse of her slender ankles. 

When they finished, Queen Charlotte raised her fan and pointed at Elik.

His darling nodded and gave another note to Dima. “What would I do without my Guards?”

“You’d sing alone,” Nikolaj grinned. 

Elik smiled. “So true. But I’d rather not. I’m not that good.”

This time Dima came back with seven of his darling’s Guards. Elik stood up and joined them in the middle of the Hall, making Nikolaj realize that his darling’s dark blue suit was very much like his Guards’ uniform in cut and simplicity. Even the colour was very similar. 

Perhaps, like Otto, he should dress Elik for the third dinner and make him wear pearls, like Charles and Ferdinand, or lots of lace, like Henrik. All three looked quite elegant and fashionable, and worthy to be emulated. What was the point of having the best Consort of them all, when he dressed as if he were in the Army? This was even worse than the costume he’d wanted to wear for the Winter Solstice Ball. Elik the Wise, he snorted. More like Elik the Unfuckable. 

Although, his suit was only slightly less tight-fitting than the Guards’ uniform. That he approved of. Yes, he’d definitely make him wear pearls for the next dinner, and maybe tighten his trousers a little more? 

While he’d been thinking of his darling’s austere taste and how to fix it, his love and the Guards were discussing something. A few moments later, Elik smiled at him. “This is called In the Woods.”

Nikolaj grinned. He loved his darling when he was being outrageous, and what could be more outrageous than a song of the common folk in this most glittering of courts?

They started singing together, surprising Nikolaj. The song sounded far different than the last time he’d heard it at the camp. The Royal Composer had clearly worked on it. The sound was also different; they all sang as if they were singing Western music. It was not the clear, loud sound of the common folk. His darling’s voice and that of another Guard seemed to lift the song up, but one of the Guards had a low rumble of a voice that seemed to hold the song together. 

Nikolaj couldn’t be prouder of his darling than at that moment. Well, no, that was a lie. He’d been just as proud of him the previous night, when his choir had performed a beautiful piece of court music. Ah, how lucky he was. His darling seemed to have found his way to make his court brilliant. Ah, how proud he was. 

The song started coming to its close, and the only ones left singing were his darling, a guard with light brown hair, and the blond Guard who was almost as tall as Nikolaj. The lighter voices of the first two trailed off as the giant kept singing and singing lower and lower, until Nikolaj felt a shiver run down his spine. 

When the song finished, it was Henrik who started clapping like mad before Nikolaj even had a chance to raise his hands. When they stopped clapping with him, Henrik cleared his throat. “Can you also sing…” He started humming something that Nikolaj recognized as By the river. “And…” he hummed another piece that was definitely Brothers, the night is dark. 

Elik looked at him, deferring to him. 

Nikolaj looked at Charles, letting their host decide. 

Charles nodded, so he nodded as well. 

“But Brothers, the night is dark sounds better with all…” Elik started saying, when Dima appeared leading the rest of the Guards inside. 

Queen Philippa started clapping. “How wonderful. All of The Hundred are now here.”

That’s how people called them? It sounded good. 

Elik smiled and made to come back to Nikolaj’s side. He shook his head. “I want you to be outrageous, and sing for me.”

“Thank you,” Elik mouthed, giving him one of his happiest smiles. 

Ah, his music-mad Love. What would he do with him? He lied; he knew exactly what he wanted to do with him. It was just a matter of when. 

&*&*

Alexandre watched the fireworks with a dark, miserable feeling still churning in his belly. He’d wanted so badly to embarrass and maybe humiliate the Swan a little by arranging this little Contest with the Queens, but the Swan could actually sing. They had written to him that he could, but he’d thought it was like the drawings. 

When he’d seen the drawing of the Emperor’s dick, he’d thought that the draughtsman had exaggerated because he was the king. Everyone wanted to make kings look Good and the closest thing to Gods that existed on earth. How could he believe that he really did have that monster between his legs? 

When his informants had written to him that the Swan had a lovely voice, he’d thought that was the usual praise diplomats and courtiers always bestowed on royalty. Fuck, people wrote that Leopold could dance, and that was the farthest thing from the truth. How could he believe that the Swan really had a good, no, a great voice? 

Ah, where were the Guards to comfort him at that moment? Although, probably they wouldn’t comfort him anymore. Not once they learned that he had been the one behind trying to make their Empress look bad in front of Charles and the other royals. 

“You are…,” someone hissed behind him in an angry tone, making him jump.

“What?” He turned around, ready to ask the Royal Guards, who were watching everything discreetly, to remove whoever was bothering him. He shut his mouth just in time when he saw it was the Swan, looking even more gorgeous in anger than he did in repose. His eyes shone and his cheeks were reddened as if he wore rouge. 

“That was a mean joke you tried to play on me,” the Swan continued, shocking him with his honesty. “Why? Because I refused your advances?”

Well, two could play at honesty. “Because it’s not fair,” Alexandre told him with annoyance. “You and your husband can walk around the Gardens all day holding hands, you can sit next to each other, you can share the same bed without anyone batting an eye, but I can’t. While you two walked around the Gardens hand-in-hand, making loving eyes at each other, I … Well, it’s not fair,” he said, preferring not to reveal that while the Swan and his husband took their stroll, he’d had to listen to his brother lecture him on his behaviour. 

“You were with persons who were not your spouse,” his brother had complained as if he’d been the only one to frolic a little with the Guards. Each and everyone of his courtiers had acted in the same manner, and his brother’s behaviour had been just as shameless. Only, according to his brother, his behaviour alone wasn’t shameless, because he was taking part in a ‘ritual’ for married people only. The translator had said that everyone could witness it and take part, but did his brother listen either then, or when Alexandre had protested? No, he hadn’t. Nothing was fair. 

“So, you wanted to make yourself feel better by trying to humiliate me?”

Alexandre felt himself frown as he thought about it. Perhaps he had. Hm, that wasn’t like him, was it? How could he have been so petty? He’d never been with anyone else who’d rejected him or broken up with him. Was it because he’d been waiting for months just to see the Swan, wondering if he’d be disappointed at the reality, but the reality proved that the man was far prettier and far more annoying than Alexandre had expected, thus leaving him unable to decide if reality was better or worse than his expectations?

“I think I preferred you when you hid behind your translator,” he finally said, feeling more and more ashamed of his behaviour, and even greater annoyance at the Swan’s. “Do you have any idea how rude you are, and how rude it is to be so honest at court?”

The Swan nodded. “Of course,” he told him as if it were obvious. “What is the point of being Empress if I can’t be rude to those who are rude to me?” 

Alexandre studied him. Perhaps royalty was not the same everywhere, after all. Perhaps his informants were right; Quhjani royalty meant rich peasant, and like a peasant elevated too high too fast, the Swan had no idea what he should be doing. And he was young, almost as young as Alexandre, but he did not have Alexandre’s upbringing in the most elegant court of the world, nor the knowledge that he would always be second to his husband, the way Alexandre always knew that he was second to his brother. 

“It does not work like that,” he smiled kindly. “A King can be as rude when he wants, but not his Queen. A Queen must always be gracious and accepting.”

“I tried that,” the Swan said softly. “It…” he sighed, looking down at the ground and sounding utterly miserable. “I don’t want to be accepting any more,” he suddenly said proudly, staring at Alexandre.

Poor Swan. He needed help. “But you must,” he laughed. He looked towards his brother’s courtiers. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, but perhaps he was a little drunk. “Do you know that I’m the laughing stock of the court after failing to seduce you, and after failing to embarrass you? Yet, I will not be rude to them no matter how they laugh at me behind my back, because that’s what I must do as the King’s brother.”

“You were not rude behind my back, though,” the Swan told him seriously. “You embarrassed me in front of my staff and Guards, and tried to take My Husband’s place. What other option did I have, but be rude to you?”

Oh, was that what the Swan had thought? “Staff and Guards don’t matter.”

“At Bosilke, they say the same for slaves. But they do. They matter to me.”

The last traces of his annoyance at the Swan’s behavior vanished, and only his embarrassment remained. He had read up on the Empire. He prided himself on knowing everything about its history and protocol. How could he have forgotten? Captive Quhjani royalty meant slave at Bosilke. They didn’t treat captive nobles like they did at Valentin, treating them as guests and offering them rooms in princely houses so they could stay in comfortable house arrest until they were ransomed and sent back to their countries. Alexandre was certain that if he’d ever been enslaved, he would never forget the experience, no matter how short, nor even after he would have regained his freedom. Little wonder that slaves mattered to the Swan, when he’d been one, however brief his slavery had been. To the Swan, Alxandre's behaviour had been as bad as if someone had told Alexandre to his face, in front of his courtiers, that he was as stupid and useless as an ornamental plant. 

Alexandre suddenly felt very badly for his behaviour. The Swan’s rudeness could be understood, if not forgiven. “I see. Do you even know how courts work?” He smiled at him gently, trying to take the sting off his words. “The King does as he pleases, and everyone else does as it pleases the King. If you are family, you can get away with telling the King your opinion, but you can’t seem to do anything that is against the King’s will. Nor can you be rude, for that reflects badly on the King. Ah, the Bosilik court must be so interesting if you can be so openly rude to everyone you don’t like.”

The Swan studied him, a slight frown appearing for a few seconds. “I really hurt your feelings, didn’t I? I’m sorry for that. But you shouldn’t have tried seducing me. Do you know that you looked at me as if I were a piece of meat?” He shuddered. “I don’t like it when people look at me like that. I’m not meat, and I’m not a slave. I’m free.”

Alexandre felt even worse than before. Even a brief period of slavery did such harm. How glad he was he only had to struggle with being second best. “I am sorry too,” he said earnestly. 

They looked at each other. They shouldn’t be enemies, or even rivals, Alexandre thought. They were the same age, more or less, and they seemed to be in similar positions, always walking two steps behind their ‘betters’. True, no one had ever looked at him as if he were a piece of meat, but people did look at him as if he were stupid. In his case, though, they were well-versed in court etiquette to know that they shouldn’t open their mouths as well. Perhaps because the Swan had been a slave at Bosilke, his courtiers did not feel such restraint? How awful. And what a breach of etiquette. 

“I don’t enjoy being rude to people,” The Swan told him softly after a few moments, “But I can’t be quiet anymore when people are rude to me. Unless you know of a way to make people stop being rude?”

Alexandre frowned deeply. “People shouldn’t be rude to you in front of you. You are the Empress. Etiquette says that the Queen is forgiving and pretends not to notice how they look at her, nor does she know how they talk of her behind her back. And the courtiers are polite and respectful in front of the Queen, even if sometimes they slip and look at her inappropriately, or as if she is an idiot who knows nothing.”

The Swan looked at him with understanding. “Then my Court does not work properly. My courtiers don’t respect me much,” he whispered. “At Bosilke, they call me a Quhjani peasant and they refuse my invitations. Even here, in the West… I did travel under an assumed name, but that did not mean that I wanted people to humiliate me. You looked at me as if I were a slave, Queen Amalia never invited me to her court, and King Hans Ulirch made me stay at the shipyards. Although, I enjoyed that,” he smiled. “I learned a lot by the ship builders at Deep Port.”

Alexandre grinned for a moment. Then he grew serious. He wished he knew how to fix a broken court. “My brother’s courtiers don’t respect me much either. I’m not good at politics, and we have peace, so I can’t go fighting. And now that my Most Good Sovereign has made the way of brothers illegal, I can’t even be with my lovers openly.”

“That is horrible,” the Swan told him with sincere surprise. “Do you have a sweet heart?”

He snorted. “How can I? I am the King’s brother. Anyone who is close to me, gets access to the king. Therefore, how can I trust that someone wants me for myself, and not for what I can offer them?”

“That is a lonely way to live.”

He sighed, nodding. “I wish I knew how … Oh, no, I know. I don’t know if it will work at your Court, but here, do you know what we do? We keep everyone very busy, and every benefit stems from Our Good and Mighty Sovereign.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t know if your Court will respect you the way they must, but you can keep them busy enough to stop being rude.”

“I thought of introducing plays at Court and keeping them busy with them.”

Alexandre snorted. “No, no, you need to do more than that. You should have a different play or entertainment every evening. Make them the most glittering events you can imagine and,” he raised his eyebrows excitedly, “Make them understand what an honour it is to attend.”

“Like we did at our parties? At Aedley, we decided to keep them private, and…” He grinned. “I heard a Lord lost a whole village at cards for one of the invitations and, would you believe that? They kept bribing my Guards with gold and gems for them.”

“Exactly like that,” Alexandre grinned. “Make them wish they would give anything and lose everything in order to be there. Also, why can’t you do something about that rumour that you are a Quhjani peasant? Or, are you?” he finally dared to ask. 

The Swan looked at him affronted. “Of course not. But royalty is the wrong term either.”

“Well?”

“My family owns land, but I am not a peasant, nor is my family.”

Alexandre waited. 

“My family is one of the twelve that founded Quhjan, and they were all equals in rank and status. We never had a king, except for a brief period in the past, and now, that we have two.”

“Still not helping your case. You need to make people understand that you are not a peasant, even when you refuse that you are royalty.”

The Swan glanced at the fireworks. “Perhaps I could… but no, I am not of Quhjan anymore. But I understand what you are saying. If I prove to my Bosilik courtiers that I am like the princes and royals they are familiar with, then they will have to respect me.”

“Exactly. You have to prove not only that you are no more a slave, but also true Quhjani royalty, and that Quhjani royalty does not mean peasant. Really, what does it mean?”

“It means living for duty. We fight for the land, we protect and guide the people, and, when it comes to that, we sacrifice ourselves for the people.”

“That sounds very much like a definition of royalty my brother would understand and live by.” He snorted. “Him and the rest of his family. You know that I had to marry in order to do my duty to my country?”

“No, I didn’t know that, but I too married for duty.” The Swan looked at him with concern. “Maybe you can learn to love your wife? I didn’t love His Majesty when we first got married, but then, I decided that it would be better if I did.” 

“I envy you,” he said, truly envious. “You found love in your marriage. I can’t. Women… they are not for me.”

“Oh. Why? Have you tried being with a woman? They are lovely,” the Swan said with obvious appreciation of the female form. 

“No, eurgh,” he grimaced. “Oh,” he said with sudden understanding, “No wonder you rejected me, if you don’t like men. But… no, you do like men, I swear you do.”

The Swan looked uncomfortable for a moment. “I like His Majesty,” he whispered, still awkward. 

Alexandre stared at him. “No, you like men. I saw you,” he insisted.

He blushed furiously, nodding. “I know that you saw. Everyone saw. And I don’t care that people see,” he said proudly. “I love him. I love him so much,” his voice trailed off. 

He huffed, trying not to laugh. “Yes, that too was obvious.”

The Swan laughed, still mostly embarrassed, but also amused. 

“I am really curious, though,” Alexandre continued. “If you weren’t so in love with His Majesty, would you have rejected me?”

The Swan nodded. “I’m sorry, but yes,” he said with certainty. He studied him. “It is such a shame that you can’t get married to a man, as you desire. I am certain that you would have make your husband very happy. Also, I don’t understand why people don’t think much of your intelligence. You are a very clever and insightful man.”

Alexandre gave him a little bow. “Thank you. And you are not that annoying, despite being honest.”

They laughed again. 

“Well, at least I can sleep with whomever I want. Illegal or not, my brother makes sure that the law never catches me,” Alexandre said airily. “My life is not that lonely. I really enjoyed getting to know some of the Guards better. I wouldn’t mind if… Could you put a good word for me? I fear they will be annoyed with me once they realise that I was behind the contest of Consorts.”

The Swan nodded with a smile. “I can do that.” 

“Thank you.”

“You still look a little sad,” the Swan told him. 

“Well, I still envy you. You found love in your marriage with a man, even though you prefer women.”

“And I envy you. The courtiers are polite to you even when they don’t respect you.”

They stared at each other. “Maybe…” the Swan started.

“I think,” he said at the same time. “Go ahead.”

“Maybe we could go have a drink?”

“I thought you don’t drink.” 

“I don’t, not on formal events. But I do drink a little, on occasion. Usually under Vasily’s supervision,” he laughed, amused. 

“Vasily?”

“Major Lesnev. The Captain of the Guards? The one who was kind enough to translate for me?”

“Ah, that one.” He smirked. “And how much did he really translate?”

“Quite a lot, actually. It would be very confusing if I was having one discussion with him and another with you.”

Alexandre laughed. “This is hilarious. Know what? Let’s find all the Queens in this place and have a drink. I’m certain that Amalia did not mean to snub you, and Philippa is such a good soul. She only agreed to this farce because she saw how upset I was. As for the others? Charlotte loves showing off how well she can dance, especially since her husband is the clumsiest dancer you will ever meet. And poor Sophia, she’s so bored, she would agree to anything. They didn’t mean to humiliate you.” Unlike him. Alexandre suddenly gasped. “You know what I just realized?”

“What?”

“You should join the Circle of Second-best. No, you must.”

“The what?”

“Philippa and I started it, and by now we have included almost every Queen consort or princess, and several of the younger brothers in the continent. We write to each other, and even though we don’t agree on many things, we take comfort in the knowledge that even though we always are two steps behind our husbands or brothers, we are not alone.”

The Swan looked at him strangely. “You mean that?” 

“Yes. You are a Consort, aren’t you? One that lives a bit further than the rest of us, but…”

“Oh, we really must do something about the postal service,” the Swan growled. “Let me inform His Majesty, and then we can go for that drink?”

“I’ll go find the others.” 

They started walking back towards the terrace where all the Royal Brothers were. 

“Your Highness? Even if I don’t gain the respect of my court, I will never forget your kindness and your advice. Please, accept my friendship and my gratitude,” the Swan told him as they walked. 

He smiled. “And, please accept mine. I’m sorry I wasn’t a gracious host when you arrived.”

“And I am sorry I was a rude guest when you received me.”

They laughed as they separated, the Swan to find his husband, and he to Sophia, who was standing the closest to them.

&*&*

Nikolaj was surprised that his darling wanted to have a drink with the Pest, but perhaps that meant that they had finally resolved what differences they had? Or that they were going to have a duel at dawn? “Well…” he started, when the fireworks stopped and everyone heard Otto shouting. 

“No, my wife is too proper for having drinks in the middle of the night.”

He turned around and saw the Duke talking quietly to Otto, while Queen Sophia was trying to calm him down. “Darling, maybe it is a bad idea.”

“Yes, Husband,” Elik said, looking disappointed. 

“Don’t you want to go to our bed instead of having drinks with the Duke and the other Consorts?”

Elik looked at him. “My Love, I do, but… I also want to be friends with them. Or, at least try to be. I so want to be a proper Consort, and this is a good opportunity for me to learn how to behave from them.”

“Each Consort is different, Darling. You don’t have to be like them.” He tapped Elik’s nose with his fingertip. “Or do you want to learn how to please other kings than me?”

“What? How dare you say that? You know that….” Elik started shouting and then stopped, clearly realizing at the same time as Nikolaj that everyone had turned their attention from Otto and his little domestic drama to theirs. “Well, you know,” he said, lowering his voice and looking miserable for a moment, grinning the next. “I’ll never be a Good Consort, but as long as I please you, I will be a happy one.”

Nikolaj chuckled. He remembered how much his love needed to be praised and reassured, so he smiled and nodded, and used his words. “Oh, Darling, you please me greatly, and for me, you are Our Most Perfect One,” he said, watching Elik shiver with delight at his words. 

He really wanted to grab his darling and take him to their bed when he looked like that, but he was determined to be a Good Husband, and make sure his darling was pleased. He took Elik’s hand and went to Otto and the Duke. “What if you also had drinks in the middle of the night?” he told Otto in Valentinois.

Otto grimaced, while Sophia’s eyes shone with understanding. “Yes, My Lord, won’t you join us?”

“I will also be there,” Nikolaj said. “I’ve been very curious to see what happens in those all-nighters of yours.”

“There’s singing,” Henrik shouted. “Lots of singing, and dancing too.”

“Dancing?” Charlotte asked. “Husband, can we join them?”

Leopold looked uncertain. 

“I will teach you Little Lady, Little Miss,” Elik told Leopold. “It is the easiest dance in the world. You just take two steps forward and one step back. It’s made for dancing when you’re drunk. Not that I would know anything about that. Maybe… Husband, may I ask the Guards and Vasily to join us? Vasily always knows how much people can drink, and never lets anyone drink more than they can. He is very strict about that,” he said, speaking so rapidly Nikolaj felt dizzy. 

“You meant to have drinks without them?” Nikolaj asked, pretending to be shocked. 

“Erm…”

Charles clapped his hands. “What a splendid idea,” he said. “The gardens are lit with torches that will burn all night, and my cellars are at your disposal. Why don’t you have a party here instead of drinks in a room?”

“A party?” Charlotte asked. “Sire? Please. We rarely have parties home.”

Otto lowered his head and nodded, defeated by his wife’s pleading, or too ashamed to be the only one who had refused his Consort’s plea to join the party.

“Will there be a ritual?” Ferdinand asked with excitement. 

“Who knows?” Nikolaj grinned. “As long as no one tries anything with my One and Only,” he growled. 

“Husband,” his darling gasped in Bosilik, delighted. “You are jealous of me.”

Nikolaj grinned. When his darling was clever, he was marvelous and Nikolaj wanted to ravish him, but when he was being all naïve, he was adorable and Nikolaj really wanted to ravish him. “Of course, I am,” he replied in Bosilik. He sighed, still grinning. What would he do with this Love of his? What else? He would dance all night with him.


	34. Chapter 34

Day two of the official visit had gone well, if Nikolaj said so, but day three was promising to be even better. It had already started in the best way possible, after all. 

“This is my favourite treat of any time of the day,” he grinned before lowering his head again so he could take his darling’s cock into his mouth and suck it furiously. How beautifully it pulsed in his hand, how it trembled in his mouth. How smooth and hard it was. How he loved it.

“And I am more than glad to provide it,” his darling chuckled before moaning happily. 

Nikolaj started stroking himself furiously. He wanted to come together with his love. 

“My Nikolaj,” his darling gasped as he started playing with his hair.

He made a noise low in his throat as he caressed himself. His darling’s scent filled his nostrils, his heavy cock filled his mouth, and his body ached with desire. Nothing could be better than pleasing his love as he pleasured himself. 

“My Love,” his Elik moaned. “I can’t hold…”

Nikolaj looked up and winked at him. The next moment, his love’s seed filled his mouth, hot and slightly salty, slightly sweet, utterly delicious. He swallowed it quickly, and felt his body tense with joy for a moment, then go limp with pleasure as he started coming. 

Satisfied, he let his darling’s cock slip off his mouth and he lay on his lap. Elik continued sighing softly, and caressed his head with utter gentleness.

“So, what will you do today?” Nikolaj asked when he felt that he could speak. He looked up, enjoying the sight of his darling after his climax, relaxed and with languid eyes and red cheeks. “I am invited to lunch with Our Royal Brothers. It was my understanding that Queen Philippa will also have lunch with the Consorts. Have you been invited?” he asked him softly. 

Elik smiled beautifully at him. “Yes, I was,” he said with a happy expression. “My Husband, My Heart, My Nikolaj, you are so wise and right. Each Consort is different. I saw that last night.”

Nikolaj grinned. “You had a lot of fun last night dancing with Charlotte and Philippa, did you not?” 

“Yes. They are both such wonderful dancers.”

“And even Leopold learned how to dance something without stepping on everyone’s feet all the time.” He laughed. “You are a very patient teacher.”

“I had help,” he chuckled. 

“The Hundred,” he nodded. 

“King Henrik still wants to steal Roman and Evgeni from me,” Elik continued, still grinning. “Stepan informed me, and he was very indignant about it too. They said no, if you are curious.”

“I’m glad they did.” Had they said yes, he would have had them arrested for abandonment of duty and executed. He grinned. No, he wouldn’t do that to his darling’s best singers. He’d arrest them, chain them and send them back to the Capital. Oh, but they were going back in two days anyway… He’d just chain then and take them with them. “I thought Henrik wanted to steal three of your singers from you.”

“Yes, yes. I wonder why he changed his mind about the other. Who cares?” His darling dragged his foot across Nikolaj’s back for a moment, and then let it rest on his ass. 

“Darling,” he said in a low voice, “You want more?”

“I always want more. But His Highness promised to show me the Royal Art Collection in the morning, before lunch. I must get up and get ready. Would you like to join us?”

“No, no, enjoy yourself.” Perhaps he could do some work. Having spoken assurances that his Royal Brothers would leave him free to pursue his plans against Oerestand was nothing like having it in a written form. Instead of working on it on their way to Lanault as he had planned at first, he could work on the draft of the peace and non-attack treaty between their kingdoms in the hours before lunch, and present it for discussing the details and agreement at lunch. “I have a little work to do.”

His darling nodded. “Does this mean that we will also start working later?”

“No, no, My Sweet. We will work on the way back home, not before. This, I promise.”

“Husband, thank you.”

After one more kiss on his darling’s soft cock, Nikolaj started moving. “We should get ready for the day. I have noticed that the tub is big enough for two, but…”

“Yes, if we share a bath, we will never leave the room. Please, go first. Your work is important, and the sooner you finish getting ready, the sooner you will get to it. I’ll go ask someone to get us breakfast.”

Nikolaj smiled softly at his love. How sweet and considerate he was, and how well he knew him. “Thank you.” He got up, leaned down so he could kiss his love briefly, their kiss as soft as butterfly wings, and then he stood up. He glanced back at his darling. “Ah, My Love,” he smiled, “How beautiful you are.”

Elik shook his head. “You are the beautiful one,” he told him in a low voice and with a hungry expression. 

Nikolaj grinned. “If we did things your way, we’d spend all day in bed, and all night too, and die of exhaustion.”

“Oh, no, never, Husband. I would make sure to feed you and water you.”

“Just water?”

Elik nodded, grinning. 

“Even if I were very, very good and you were very, very pleased with me?” He laughed. “Ah, what am I doing? I should get ready for work, not ready for fucking.” He ignored his darling’s disappointed little noise and went to the bathroom. Even there, they could not spend one day alone and naked. Why was this his life?

&*&*

“And this is the last of the rooms with the paintings,” the Duke said as he stopped in front of a bench at the end of the long Gallery and sat at one end. “What do you think?” 

Elik sat as far as possible from him as he could. He looked around, at the long Hall with the walls covered with paintings, and that was at the end of three more rooms filled with paintings. “Thank you for showing me the collection,” he said politely.

“But?” the Duke smiled at him, teasing him. 

“But I find it all too confusing. You have landscapes together with allegorical figures and portraits of noble men and women. If this were my Collection, everything would be in its own room.” He stood up and walked to the closest portrait. He looked at the withered face of an old fisherman. “Wouldn’t it be more interesting if all the portraits were in a room?” He continued walking until he stopped in front of the portrait of a young lady with blonde hair and a solemn smile. “I would put these two close, and when I would see them, I would imagine what would happen if they had met. Or, maybe I would put her next to that warrior, and think that they are secretly in love.” He stopped in front of a meadow bathed in a soft morning light. “And I would put all the landscapes together, so that, I could stop in front of the one that suited my mood at that moment, and then, I would imagine myself there.” He turned and grinned at the Duke, who was staring at him with a soft expression. “I’m being silly. Forgive me. You have a wonderful collection. All of the paintings are beautiful and beautifully made. In all my journey, I have not seen one that could match it.”

“Thank you. Do you collect paintings too?”

He shook his head. “I have hired a few painters and draughtsmen to record Our journey, but… Oh, how strange you will think me,” he smiled. “I prefer collecting the art of the common folk.”

The Duke stared at him in shock. “Why?”

“Because, it has meaning. A rose is never just a rose, a raven never just a bird. This Lady, what is she but herself?”

“You like allegories,” the Duke nodded. 

“I suppose so. I do like Western art,” and how he wished that they could have Academies of Art and Schools of Painting and Sculpture and Music in the Western manner, “but, sometimes I feel that, by pursuing verisimilitude, Western artists have lost the essence of art.”

“Which is?”

“To make people feel, and make them part of something bigger than them. Back home, we use art to remind people who they are, and to make them feel proud of who they are. At the Empire, they use art to impress people and connect them to the past. A portrait of a warrior is not just his image; it is his essence and his honour taken form. I find that lacking in Western art.”

“As worthy and intriguing as that sounds, I have seen Bosilik art. It does not appear to have changed in the last three hundred years. And it is the same with the art of the common folk. It transmits meaning, but never innovates. It was the same two hundred years ago, it is the same now, and will be the same in a hundred years.” The Duke stood up. “There’s little beauty in something that doesn’t change.” He joined Elik and together they studied the portrait of the warrior. “How would he be depicted ‘back home’?”

Elik studied the man’s sharp features and his cold eyes. “As a wolf,” he said without hesitation. “And at the Empire, they would have painted his eyes large, and showed how frightening they had been when he had stared down at his enemies.”

The Duke nodded. “When you look at him here, though, you can still tell he was a great warrior. He wears an armour, he has his sword, and his expression is one of calculation and control. In ‘Western’ art, we do not hide character behind symbols anymore. Nor do we lie by presenting a hare as a wolf,” the Duke smiled at him. 

“Don’t you? ‘Western’ art lies through other means. King Hans Urlich looks very noble and serious when you only see his portraits, and King Charles looks happier.”

The Duke snorted. “Don’t tell him that to his face,” he advised Elik with a grin. 

“I won’t.” 

They smiled at each other. 

“Why don’t you talk like that in front of others?” the Duke asked him as they started leaving the Gallery. “No one would ever call you a peasant if they heard you talk of art or music. Or tea,” he laughed. “That day, when you started analysing the tea I had offered you, oh, how shocked I was.”

“I’m just my Husband’s ornament,” Elik told him seriously. “And the one who stops the Ladies from being bored. Our Ladies do not care much for art, although I think they will be delighted to have more Western art at Ivanhof. I am certain that they will love having their portraits painted for my Gallery, and sitting still for hours will keep them away from trouble,” Elik smiled.

The Duke laughed, but as they walked his laughter faded into a sad grin. “I’m one to talk,” he snorted. “You are Your Husband’s Ornament, and I am My Brother’s Decoration. If I did talk of art the way I talk with you, my Brother’s courtiers would think me far too serious for Court.”

“Oh, no, no one should be serious at Court,” Elik snorted. “I’m not even joking,” he sighed. 

The Duke nodded. 

They smiled again. 

The Duke opened a closed door and led him up through a small staircase. “This passageway will take us directly to Philippa’s rooms.”

“We crossed half of the Palace while looking at art? Oh, your collection is truly beyond compare.”

“It is,” the Duke said a little smugly, but Elik couldn’t blame him. He too would be smug if he had such a collection. He opened the door and they were in front of an ornate gilded door. “And here I will leave you.”

“You won’t join us?”

“No, this lunch is for Consorts only,” he said as one the servants outside the door knocked on it before opening it. “Till later, Your Majesty,” he bowed slightly to him. 

“Till later, Your Highness,” he nodded. 

He stepped inside a large room that was as pink as Lady Ekaterina’s rooms. Queen Philippa’s Ladies were gathered around a round table, setting it. They stopped their work and curtsied at him. He nodded at them as well and waited as one of them knocked on another door. The door opened into a smaller room with delicately creamy walls, and Ladies dressed more magnificently than the ones in the previous room, curtsied at him again. He smiled as he nodded. Why did they all look at him so curiously? They had seen him at dinner the previous nights. 

The third door opened to the smallest of the three rooms. It was the most opulent, though, and had as much as gold on the walls and the furniture as his own rooms at Ivanhof. Queen Philippa was sitting on an armchair in the middle of the room, while the other Consorts sat around her, also in armchairs. An armchair next to Philippa was empty, clearly meant for him. 

He looked at the Consorts as he walked into the room. Like the previous days, Queen Philippa seemed dressed in jewels rather than clothes, with pearls hanging from her hair and neck and over her chest and arms. Queen Amalia was wearing even more lace than the night before, and it hid even less of her generous curves. Queen Charlotte was in a pale green dress that seemed made of layers of foam, while Queen Sophia was dressed in a dark gown again, a brown one this time, that covered her whole body. Elik liked how simple it was. 

“Brother,” Queen Philippa grinned as she stood up and they embraced before they took their seats. “Now that we are all here, and before we proceed to having lunch, I wanted to tell you of my idea. I am certain you will all agree it is a wonderful idea.”

He smiled. What kind of an idea was that that had all the Consorts looking so excited? He was certain they knew already. Well, he would find out soon, wouldn’t he? 

&*&*

“Now that our work is done,” Queen Philippa smiled at everyone as her servants started gathering the dessert plates, “We can have our coffee at peace.”

The servant behind him poured some of the beverage into his cup. He frowned. 

“Is it not to your taste?” Queen Philippa asked him. 

“No, I was just struck by its smell.” He smiled. “It smells fuller than the coffee I’ve had so far.” He stopped himself before telling them more of his impressions.

She smiled and nodded, and the strings of pearls framing her face moved delicately. She glanced at herself in the mirror, and smiled even more pleased. “I have an idea,” she continued.

“Pray, do tell, Sister, what is it?” Queen Amalia asked her. 

Queen Sophia nodded. 

Queen Charlotte put down her cup. “Well?”

Queen Philippa touched the massive pearl that was hanging over her chest from a string of large, round pearls. “My Most Wonderful Husband gave me this for the ten years of our marriage. And these,” she touched the pearls falling over her hair. “And this,” her bracelets were next. “So, I was thinking, we could have a little contest. Each of us will tell what she, or he,” she smiled at Elik, “has received from Her, or His, Husband, in the last twelve months, and whoever gave the most expensive gift, he will be declared the Most Generous of Husbands. This set is the most expensive gift I got this year, and I dare say it cost him over 200,000 gold coins.”

Queen Charlotte sighed. “My Most Wonderful Husband did not give me any jewelry. He did give me a new house, but I do not think it cost as much as your jewels.”

“I got jewels and clothes, but, you win, my Royal Sister,” Queen Amalia smiled. 

Queen Sophia also smiled. “I got a new pack of hunting dogs and a few horses, but they were not that expensive. I prefer dogs and horses to jewelry anyway,” she grinned. 

“I too prefer horses,” Elik smiled. 

“And, what about you, Royal Brother? Did you receive any gifts from your Husband worth mentioning?” Queen Sophia asked. 

“He certainly seems very fond of you,” Queen Philippa said with a deep blush.

“And I am most pleased with him,” Elik smiled.

They laughed a little. “We know,” Queen Charlotte giggled.

“I’m not ashamed of us,” Elik told them. “Especially since it is very important to perform well in rituals. Luck blesses the couples that take part,” he said. “Married or not.” When Maxim had told him the story Vasily had made up in order to excuse His Majesty’s behaviour, Elik had decided that it was a good story, and swore that he would uphold it with as much fervour as the Guards. 

“Really,” Queen Amalia laughed.

“Really,” he replied seriously. 

“We all heard how happy the ritual made His Majesty,” Queen Charlotte smiled. “So, have you received any valuable gifts from such a happy Husband?”

“I…” he thought about it. “He did give me a diamond dress, but I have no idea how much it cost.” 

“A what?” Queen Philippa asked him shocked. 

“A dress, made of little pearls and diamonds. From here,” he pointed at his neck, “to there,” he gestured towards his feet. “I suppose it cost a lot. I can ask My Lord how much it was worth, if you wish.”

Queen Philippa suddenly put her cup down, ran across the room and kissed him on the cheek. “Oh, I am so happy His Majesty married you,” she laughed as she ran back to her seat. “You have no idea how insufferable Anne would have been if she had married such a Generous Husband.”

“I gave it back to the Treasury, though,” Elik said, “so now it’s Crown property again, and not mine.”

“Why would you do that?” Queen Amalia gasped. Queen Charlotte nodded.

Even Queen Sophia seemed dismayed by his behaviour.

“To be honest,” he started and all of them leaned a little forward, as if they were about to learn a secret, “It was uncomfortable,” he grinned. “Have you ever tried sitting on diamonds?”

“I can’t say I have,” Queen Philippa said after sharing a look with the others. 

“It was not pleasant,” Elik nodded. “Frankly, I would be happier if he gave me horses. And men. I wouldn’t mind having a regiment to serve the Empire.”

Queen Charlotte shook her head with the same expression of despair as his sister. “Men,” she said, just like his sister. 

He grinned. “Thank you.”

“That was not a compliment,” Queen Charlotte giggled. 

“I would have kept the dress, uncomfortable or not,” Queen Philippa said.

Elik shrugged. “Really, I’d rather have horses. And dogs,” he nodded towards Queen Sophia. 

“Yes, speaking of dogs, can we, please, see your dog?” She asked him. 

“Yes,” Queen Charlotte and Queen Amalia added. 

He nodded to Dima, and the young man gave him a sharp nod before leaving as fast as he could. 

“What kind of a dog is he?” Queen Sophia asked.

“He’s from the North, from Tanovo. There, they use such dogs for hunting deer or herding, but he’s also such a splendid companion.” 

“He seems big,” Queen Amalia said.

“But not as big as Sasha. Dogs like Sasha can hunt wolves.”

“Do tell,” Queen Sophia said with excitement. “Have you ever hunted a wolf?”

“Or deer?” Asked Queen Charlotte.

He hesitated for a moment. He had stopped enjoying hunting once he went to Ivanhof. 

“I prefer small dogs, with soft fur,” said Queen Philippa immediately, perhaps realising that he didn’t want to talk about it. What a wonderful host she was. 

“Oleg has the softest fur. You’ll see.” He smiled. He really couldn’t wait to show Oleg to them. He was certain they’d fall in love with his cheerful expression and his sweet disposition the moment they saw him. Oleg was just so marvelous. 

“I think…” Queen Sophia said a little shyly. “Can I show you Mitzi?”

“Mitzi?”

“My best hunting dog. I brought her with him in case there was a hunt, but…” She made a disappointed grimace. 

“Charles is more of a dances-and-fireworks person,” Queen Philippa said. “And I’m happy with that,” she smiled. 

“My Husband prefers dinners without music, so that people can hear each other as they talk,” Queen Sophia said, looking even more disappointed.

“Dinners without music?” Queens Amalia and Charlotte gasped in shock at the same time. 

“We also have music,” Elik nodded. 

Queen Sophia’s shoulders slumped further. 

“You must talk to him,” Elik told her sympathetically. 

“No, he never listens. It’s either things done properly or not at all.”

Everyone sighed together with her and stayed silent for a few moments, drinking their coffee and no doubt thinking of their husbands and how demanding they could be. Elik certainly thought of that. His Husband seemed to have changed, but in the past, he’d been so…. He sighed again, and Queen Amalia smiled at him kindly. 

Someone needed to speak, he realized, as they had all started looking despondent. It was just like at his Court, when the Ladies got bored. Back home, that would be his job, but here he was a guest. Surely, Queen Philippa had to start?

The door opening saved them all. He turned and grinned. “Dima, thank you so much. Let him loose, please. Come, Oleg.”

Oleg walked to him with his tail wagging happily, and his mouth open in his happy grin. Now that he was getting enough exercise, he didn’t run everywhere, and he could look so dignified. 

“Good boy, Oleg. Sit.” 

Oleg sat and looked at him. As he looked up, he realized that all the Consorts had risen and were around them as well. How quietly they had moved. It was admirable! 

“He’s bigger than I thought,” said Queen Sophia. 

He nodded. “You may touch him, if you want.”

Queen Philippa was the first. “His fur is so soft,” she marveled as she knelt and petted him at the same time as Queen Amalia. Oleg stayed still, but his tail wagged even more happily than before. 

“He’s very well-trained,” continued Queen Sophia. “Well-done,” she praised him. 

“We are now teaching him a new trick. Watch.” He took a piece of dried meat out of his pocket.

“I also do that,” Queen Charlotte laughed, “but my Lulu is a greedy, little thing and when she smells treats, she jumps around until she gets them all.”

“If Oleg gets them all, he will grow fat, and no one wants a fat Oleg,” he smiled as he scratched Oleg’s head and then put the treat down in front of him. Oleg sniffed, looked down, and then up. 

“He doesn’t smell like dog,” Queen Charlotte said with surprise. 

“Oh, he does. When he gets wet, he stinks,” he grinned. “But as long as he’s groomed daily and has a bath every now and then, he’s fine.” He glanced at Dima. “My page is the only one allowed to groom Oleg apart from my sister and I. I don’t know what I would do without him,” he smiled at the young man. Ah, how he would miss him when he left his service, but he finally had an idea about what to do with him. 

“Where is Her Excellency? We hardly saw her after she was presented to Us,” Queen Philippa asked him.

“She’s exploring Sorain and the town with her best friend, Lady Olga. They met at Aedley, became friends in a day, and have not separated since.”

Queen Amalia smiled. “Ah, the friendships of youth. When I met my best friend for the first time, we talked for half a day.”

Queen Philippa nodded with a wistful smile. “I wish I had been allowed to keep my maids-of-honour when I came here. Even though I have many friends among my Ladies, none can replace the friends I grew up with.”

Elik nodded with a heavy feeling. He too had lost the friends he had grown up with. “Should I show you the trick?” he asked instead of dwelling on his misery. 

“Yes, please.”

“Oleg, eat.”

At the command, Oleg lowered his head and started munching on the treat. 

“How?” Queen Charlotte gasped. 

“By reinforcing his good behaviour.” One day, Vasily had come up with the idea of teaching Oleg to eat only when Elik told him, and he’d agreed that it was a good idea. 

Queen Philippa stood up. “I have an idea. Why don’t we go to the kennels, so I can show you Our dogs, and then, Sophia, you can show us your Mitzi?”

“And after that, maybe we can play cards?” Charlotte asked with delight as she stood up. “Dear Brother, you must tell me more about how trained your Oleg, so I can train my Lulu.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Call me Sister,” she laughed. 

Elik liked her bright eyes. Bosilik protocol and Quhjani customs be damned. He offered her his arm, she took it without blinking, and together they followed Queen Philippa and Queen Amalia out. He couldn’t wait to see her dogs. 

&*&*

Leopold looked at the treaty for the longest time before putting down his signature. Nikolaj did not like his hesitation at all. Well, if it came to Leopold not honoring it, he would deal with his treachery, but until that time, he wouldn’t do anything. “Thank you, Brother,” he said pleasantly. 

Leopold snorted. “I bet.”

“Coffee?” Charles said before any arguments could start.

“Thank you. Tell me, Brother, is there anyone who can help me with a small, but urgent thing?”

“What is it you require?”

“Ah,” he grinned, “I want to surprise My Most Precious Consort with a little something. He is Most Perfect, but his taste in clothes,” he sighed, shaking his head with disapproval.

“Good luck with that,” Otto suddenly said. “I thought I had never seen anyone dress as plainly as Sophia, until I saw…” he bit his lips and stopped talking. 

Sophia dressed herself like that? That was a shock. “No, no, you are right. He dresses as if he were in the army.” He shared a look of commiseration with Otto. 

“Isn’t that a good thing? Philippa is…. Well, she must have the costliest jewels and fabrics in the country,” Charles sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, she does dress like a Queen ought to dress,” he glanced at Otto and Nikolaj, whose Consorts clearly didn’t dress the part, “but if she dressed a little less extravagantly, I would be happier.”

“Maybe you should talk to her?” Leopold asked him. 

“Why?” Ferdinand asked sternly. “She is Our Sister and she has high standards and good taste. Instead of complaining, you should be proud of her.”

“I am, I am,” Charles said quickly, cowering a little under Ferdinand’s gaze. “She’s never lacked a thing,” he told him, raising his voice defensively. “Just ask her.”

Nikolaj felt sorry for him, and relief that he didn’t get married to Ferdinand’s other little sister. He’d rather have his austere Love than an extravagant wife like Queen Philippa.

Henrik started laughing. “Oh, how far we have gone! From trying have a contest of the best Consort, to one of the worst.”

Nikolaj grinned. “Actually, there has never been such a contest. And unlike the one of who is the best Consort, anyone could win this one. I’ll start! My Most Perfect Consort has awful taste in clothes and…” Nikolaj stopped himself before saying how much garlic his darling loved to add to his food. They wouldn’t understand why Elik cooked for him, the way Nikolaj himself had not understood at first, and it had taken him months before realizing that for his Elik, love was better shown than spoken. His sweet, sweet love. 

“And?” Henrik asked, still smiling widely. 

“And once he starts dancing, he forgets to stop. You saw him last night, right? Believe me, he can dance all day and all night. Once, he danced from ten in the morning until the dawn of the next day.” He decided not to tell his Royal Brothers that after a short nap, his darling was up and ready for their coronation, looking radiant and gorgeous and the people shouted so much in their honour, he’d thought the windows of the shrine would break. No, this was a contest for the worst Consort, not for the most magnificent one. 

Everyone laughed. 

“I’ll continue, then,” Otto said, grinning widely. “My Most Gracious Queen refuses to dress like a Queen, even at formal functions. Furthermore, when she goes hunting, she forgets everything but her prey, and I can’t tell you how many times she’s shown up for dinner still in her muddy and dirty riding clothes. I keep telling her to be proper, but when it comes to hunting, she never listens.”

Nikolaj sighed and laughed at the same time. 

“My Most Gracious One,” said Leopold, “keeps trying to teach me how to dance.”

“Oh, you poor man,” Charles told him sympathetically.

“I don’t think that’s the sign of a bad Consort, but of one who loves you dearly and wants to share what makes her happy with you,” Ferdinand said. “You are out. Nikolaj and Otto, you still have a chance at winning this.”

“What about yours?” Charles asked him.

Ferdinand frowned. “Louise has become far too serious. I don’t blame her, and I share her grief, but…”

Nikolaj coughed. Ferdinand was about to say something that was bad luck, he knew it. “You’re out too,” he said, smiling kindly. “Your Most Gracious Consort has reasons for her sadness. That does not make her bad.”

“Damn,” Ferdinand spat out, before grinning widely. “Henrik?”

“My Most Wonderful Consort has no faults,” he grinned. “I lose. Charles?”

“Apart from having expensive tastes? She sleeps with three of her dogs, and every time I…” he cut himself off, glancing at Ferdinand. 

Nikolaj laughed. “My Most Gracious Consort’s dog whines so pitifully if he’s left outside the bedroom. Your Most Gracious Queen probably does not want to disturb you with the noise.”

“But she does disturb me with the fur,” Charles complained. 

“So, we have a tie,” Henrik laughed, “Between Nikolaj, Otto, and Charles. At least your Consorts have great taste in music and they can dance. I would forgive them everything for their art.”

They smiled. 

“Sophia doesn’t play like that when we are at home,” Otto said quietly, his smile a little sad. 

Henrik stared at him with surprise, his eyes as wide as saucers. “Why? She plays marvelously. If I were you, I would add musicians and singers in my court, and have them play her music.”

“Is that proper?”

“Everything You want to do at your court is proper,” Nikolaj told him. 

Otto seemed to be thinking about it.

“So, what did you want to in order to surprise your Most Gracious Consort?” Charles asked him, changing the discussion.

“Ah, yes. I want to get him a new suit for tonight, so he can wear it at dinner.” 

“Hm. I’m not sure if it can be done.”

“Why not? It’s not like I can’t afford either the materials or the craftsmen.”

“You can’t buy craftsmen in Valentin,” Charles told him sternly.

“I wouldn’t dream of that. I just meant to pay for their time. I’m willing to pay for as many craftsmen as it takes, and give them as much as they ask, provided he has something nice to wear by tonight.”

“Let me ask my brother to join us. Alexandre knows everything about art and fashion. If there are people who can produce this by tonight, he will know them.” He nodded towards one of his servants. 

Nikolaj grinned. “Thank you. I really hope they can. Our Royal Tailor can produce anything We ask him within a day, if We ask it.”

Charles and Ferdinand shared a look. 

“I wonder how they are doing,” Henrik said. “In Philippa’s place, I’d have them singing and dancing right now.”

“Why don’t we go check what they do?” Charles smiled. “Our business here has finished, hasn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Leopold agreed. “Lead the way, Brother.”

Charles and Ferdinand started walking out. 

For a moment, Nikolaj was tempted to address Leopold and discuss what he could sense. But why be unpleasant? Leopold would not honour that treaty, he was certain of it. The question was, with much strength would he support Oerestand? 

“Brother?” Otto approached him. “I apologize if I insulted your Most Gracious Empress.”

“No, no, you didn’t insult him. He has dreadful taste in clothes. I made the most wonderful diamond dress for him, and he only wore it once.”

Charles and Ferdinand stopped, turned back and stared at him. “Diamond dress?”

“Yes, and it was so beautiful. Twenty-five thousand diamonds, and fifty-thousand little pearls all hugging his delightful body.” He sighed deeply. “I don’t even know where it is. He’s hidden it so he won’t have to wear it again. Now that We see that pearls are fashionable, though….” He took out his notebook and showed Henrik the first design he’d made while his Brothers were debating if they should use the word ‘non-attack’ or ‘neutrality’ at a specific point in the treaty for thirty minutes. “When We are back, We will make a cape for him with Our Emblem in gems set against pearls. It will be glorious.”

Henrik whistled. “You have more money than sense, do you?”

He shrugged. Yes, he did. He showed the others his design, feeling quite proud of it. 

Charles looked at him strangely, Ferdinand even more so. “Brothers,” he shouted loudly. “If a word of Our Brother Nikolaj’s generosity reaches Our little Sister, I will protest formally. That girl dreams of nothing but jewels and keeps asking and…” He frowned and turned towards Charles. “Oh, I see what you mean about Philippa. We will talk to her, and then talk to Anne. Their ridiculous contest about which one has the best jewels must stop.”

“Especially since now we know who wins the contest of Most Generous Husband,” Otto laughed as Charles and Ferdinand started moving. “Our Brother Nikolaj.”

Nikolaj smiled. “Of what use is Our wealth if it is not used to adorn Our Most Precious?”

Henrik and Leopold laughed, while Otto nodded in agreement, looking sad. 

“Our Most Precious would prefer it if I learned how to dance, rather than have pearls and diamonds,” Leopold said.

“You are a lucky man, then,” Ferdinand told him. “And I dare speak for Charles too now,” he grinned. “How I wish Louise had joined Us.”

“You talk of mistresses and lovers, but she’s the true Mistress of your Heart, is she not?” Nikolaj asked him gently. 

Ferdinand nodded, and gave them a wistful smile. “She’s always been a little fragile and her health is not the best, especially not after having given Us so many children. She is My Most Precious,” he sighed.

“I hope you find her well upon your return,” Nikolaj told him seriously. 

“Thank you.”

The servant outside the Queen’s Rooms opened the door for them. 

Charles stepped in, guiding everyone inside. Their Most Gracious Queens were indeed most gracious, all gathered around a large round table playing cards. Nikolaj smiled as he saw Oleg lying on the floor by his darling’s feet, while a little white and red dog with long fine fur and upright ears sat on the table next to Queen Philippa. A similar small dog looked up curiously from Queen Amalia’s lap, surely a sibling to the one next to Philippa, and a black, muscular short-haired dog raised its head from next to Queen Sophia and stared at them with alert eyes. 

As they walked in, three more tiny dogs started running around them, heading straight for Charles. “Philippa’s little pets,” he grinned. “She has ten in total. Is that, yes, it must be. He’s so furry. How do you deal with that?”

“Oleg never sleeps in our bed.” And his darling’s page had been promoted (or was that, demoted?) to Oleg’s official groomer, responsible for brushing him every day, so there would be as little fur as possible littering their room. 

Charles looked at him with envy as the tiny dogs did their best to climb on him. 

He looked at them with a little trepidation. Would this happen to him once they were back, and his darling got Sasha too? Then he noticed the table, heaped with small fruits, nuts and candies, and his good mood returned. 

“Our Most Precious, you have introduced playing for trifles here as well?” He grinned. 

“It is such an outrageous idea, that is just most marvelous,” Queen Charlotte told him with an expression of delight.

“Her Majesty, Queen Philippa, was kind enough to indulge me,” his darling replied. 

He looked over the table, and the winnings of each of the Consorts. Picking up one of the strawberries next to his darling’s cards, he leaned down. “No wonder you play for trifles,” he whispered to him in Bosilik, “you are pretty bad at this,” he laughed.

“I’m not bad, they are good,” his darling replied with an annoyed little huff, before looking at him. “No, you are right, Husband, I am bad,” he told at him playfully. 

“This is the best idea one could ever have,” Leopold whispered to him. “Charlotte loves playing, but she is so bad at winning.”

He checked her pile of candies, and nodded. It was almost as small as his darling’s. 

“Maybe we should show them how it is done?” he asked Leopold.

“And spoil their fun?”

His darling had such an intense look of concentration on his face as he tried to decide what to play next. He picked up another of his darling’s winnings, a little candied fruit this time, and nodded at his Royal Brother. He had a point, and was about to say that he agreed, when he saw Charles lean over his Consort and whisper something in her ear. 

“Hey,” Leopold protested before him.

“We’re just discussing what’s for dinner,” Charles replied, as if anyone could believe him.

Nikolaj snapped his fingers and Dima brought him a chair. “Now you have done it,” he playfully glared at Charles. “It’s two against two.”

“And two against you four,” Henrik laughed as he grabbed a chair himself and sat next to his wife. 

“If that’s how you will play this,” Leopold added with a huff, taking a seat beside Charlotte. 

Nikolaj looked over his darling’s cards as Otto also joined in. “This.” 

“That’s not fair,” Ferdinand told them. He looked around the room, and pointed at someone. “You. You will play with me. Philippa, new game,” he commanded her. 

“Sir, I am on duty, Sir,” he heard someone reply in Valentinois with a familiar accent.

He grinned and looked at his darling. “Shall We allow Your Guard to guard you while playing?”

Elik looked back. “If it pleases You, My Lord,” he said as he handed back the cards to Sophia so she could shuffle them for the new game. 

“I don’t care that they call their Husbands ‘Sire’,” he told Elik in Bosilik. “You can call me Husband,” he smiled. “And yes, it pleases me.” He nodded at the Guard and smiled as he sat next to Ferdinand. “Do you think Ferdinand will bed him?” he continued in their language. 

“Do you think he won’t?” his darling asked him saucily.

“I bet... that he won’t,” he grinned. “If I win, you will make me that delicious little cream dessert we had last night. And if you win… I will give you a cream dessert.” Straight from the source, he was tempted to add, and stroke himself, but even he had some limits of what he could do in front of his Royal Brothers. This was not the beginning of a ritual, after all. He grinned. The Major deserved to be promoted for his quick and clever thinking. Ritual, indeed. 

His darling gasped with excitement. “Something with vanilla and almonds? Or better yet, pistachios?”

Was the darling tease teasing him? “Not quite what I had in mind, but that can be arranged,” he grinned. 

“What did you have in mind, Husband?”

Oh, no, he had no idea. Nikolaj swallowed hard and told himself to calm down. “Later, Love, later. The game is starting.”

“Not yet,” Queen Philippa said as she looked towards the door. “Alexandre, you will join us,” she commanded him. 

Nikolaj smiled. “Here,” he said, pointing at the space next to him, and Dima immediately brought another chair. 

“He can’t play alone,” his darling whispered to him.

“Yes, you are right.” He gestured at his darling’s other guard to join them and sit by the Duke. “Better?”

The Duke looked at him with even greater delight than his darling. “Yes, Your Majesty, thank you.”

“Good.” He was certain that he’d find a chance to ask the Duke about a tailor able to produce something stunning for his darling in the next half hour. Then, he’d go arrange things, and then come back. 

It seemed like a good plan. “No, darling, not that card,” he smiled. “Try playing this.”


	35. Chapter 35

The moment they were alone in their bedroom, Elik tried to kiss him. Nikolaj pushed him away and took a deep breath. “Darling? You know I love you, right?”

“Yes,” Elik replied immediately. “What I don’t know is, why didn’t you let me kiss you?”

He smiled. “Because, Darling, we need to get ready for dinner and… My Love, My Husband, my Elik, I would like to choose your clothes for tonight.”

Elik looked at him curiously for a moment, but then lowered his head obediently. “Yes, Husband.”

He grinned. “Show me your clothes, Love, so I can see what I have to work with.”

With a smile, Elik brought over his travel bags and started laying out his clothes on the bed. The more he took things out, the more Nikolaj frowned. 

“Darling, you have such nice clothes. Why did you wear that uniform yesterday, and the other one the day before?”

“Husband, I had no time to get dressed either yesterday or the day before. Or have you forgotten?” His darling looked at him with surprise. “The day before, we were in the gardens until it was almost time for dinner, and we had to run to get dressed. As for yesterday afternoon, don’t you remember what we did before dinner?”

Nikolaj slowly grinned. “Yes,” he said, hugging Elik from behind and pressing his cock against him. “I wanted my favourite treat,” he laughed as he rubbed himself against his love’s body. “And then you wanted yours.” 

“And if you continue doing this, then I’ll have no time to get dressed today either, and will just grab whatever is closer to me, like I did the day before, and the day before that,” Elik laughed.

Reluctantly, Nikolaj let him go. He looked at his darling’s clothes again. “You should wear this one,” he said touching lightly an ivory silk coat embroidered with countless flowers of different colours. It must have been a new one; he didn’t remember it. He sat on the bed. “You know what would have been the best thing to wear? Your diamond dress.”

His darling looked at him strangely.

“With a chemise underneath, of course,” Nikolaj laughed. He lay back and watched as his darling went to the privy. “Darling, where is it?”

“Where is what?” 

“Your diamond dress.” He sat up and started looking for a suitable shirt for his darling. The one he’d worn the night before had not even had any lace on it. He listened as his darling cleaned himself and waited. If his Love thought that he could avoid answering him? Well… Ha! “Well?” he asked the moment Elik was out, wearing nothing. 

“It’s at the Treasury, where it belongs.”

“But why? I made it for you.”

Elik nodded. “And I am oh, so grateful, Husband, but it is a treasure. It was not right to have it in my rooms.”

“So, you just wanted to keep it safe?”

“Yes, My Love. And have it where it can be of use, if there is need of it.” Elik picked up his chemise and started getting dressed. 

Nikolaj grinned. “My Love, when we run out of diamonds, then, we can use it.” He started going to the privy and stopped by its door. “You know, I told my Royal brothers about it. At least one of them thinks I have more money than sense,” he laughed. “And We do, so don’t worry about expenses, Love.”

“How odd. I also told the Consorts about it, and they seemed surprised at your generosity. They don’t know how kind you are,” Elik told him with a happy smile before running to him. Nikolaj stayed still as Elik hugged him. “I had so much time to think about everything,” he whispered. “I will say it! I didn’t like that dress, but now I understand that you made it with so much love for me.” He looked at him with a sweet expression. “I gave it back to the Treasury because that is wise and right, but I too do not want to take it apart unless we must. It is a treasure of Your love.”

Nikolaj reached down and kissed him on the forehead. “Took you long enough to figure that out?”

“Yes,” his darling told him seriously. 

He decided not to comment. “Well, whatever is in the Treasury is Crown property, and whatever is Crown property is Ours, so I am glad you put the treasure of Our love where it will be safe,” he smiled. “Now, will you let me go so I can also get ready?”

Elik did, looking embarrassed for a moment, and determined the next. “I’m sorry, Husband, but I can’t be sorry for hugging you. I have missed you so much, and now that you are here… I feel like I woke up from a dream, and realized that my dream pales compared to reality. My happiness is too great, and my love for you is boundless.”

He smiled. He liked seeing and experiencing the written declarations of Elik’s mad love for him and having proof that were not just words. “I also feel like this, My Sweet, but I still need to get ready, and so do you.” Nikolaj winked at him. “Tell me, Love, should I expect any surprises from you tonight?”

“No, none,” Elik smiled. “Queen Philippa wanted us to perform together in honour of all their Majesties, but it was impossible to get ready in such short time.”

“Let me guess, you refused them because you did not sound in perfect harmony?”

“Actually, it was Queen Amalia who thought we would never sound good enough in a few hours. Oh, Husband, can we invite her? She is even more serious about music than I am. Please?”

“Perhaps, when…” he cut himself off before he could tell his darling that he wanted to go off to war again. “Maybe next year? By the time we send her a formal invitation, and she accepts, it will be autumn, and…” He smiled. “Our Royal Brothers and sisters are used to milder weathers. I don’t think Queen Amalia will cope well in our weather, nor would she enjoy being stuck in the Empire in winter.”

“How right you are, My Husband. I didn’t even think of that.” He sat on the edge of the bed and started wearing his stockings with a little smile, perhaps amused at his own lack of forethought. 

Nikolaj watched him. How beautiful, how loyal, how charming his Love was. How he hoped Luck was with them, for he knew: this was the sight he would never tire of, this was the love that would always burn hotly inside him, this was His One and Only. Ah, how he loved him. 

*&*&

Nikolaj glanced at the other side of the terrace where his daring spoke to the other Consorts. They seemed to be taking their time. He smiled. They looked excited at whatever they discussed. “It is bad luck to say farewell until we must, so I will leave that for tomorrow. I will say this, though. Thank you, Charles. This had been wonderful.” He looked at him seriously. “I really hope, with all my heart, that Luck blesses you with everything you desire.”

“Thank you. Are you sure you won’t stay longer? Everyone else will stay for one more week, and you are welcome to stay for as long as you wish.”

He smiled. “Thank you, but we have urgent things to attend to, as you know.” He glanced as his darling started coming towards them. 

Charles noticed too. “I should leave you. Enjoy the rest of your stay, Brother.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Brother.”

They embraced for a moment, his darling gave Charles a little bow, and then he was right next to him, reaching for his hand and looking at him happily. 

Elik squeezed his fingers. “Had I known how delightful Sorain is, I would have asked if it were possible to come here sooner,” his darling sighed. “Although I learned many things at Aedley, and hired many people.” He looked up at Nikolaj. “I’m sorry, I won’t talk work again until we are on the way back.”

He nodded and looked up at the fireworks lighting the night sky. “Ready to retire after the display?”

Before his darling could reply, “Hello,” Charles’ brother shouted so he could be heard better.

“Hello.” 

Nikolaj noticed how earnestly his darling smiled at the Duke. He studied him, wondering what had happened the night before to make his darling go from calling him a ‘pest’ to greeting him quite warmly. 

“I was wondering,” the Duke continued. “Would you like to come to my rooms for a drink tonight? I would have suggested we go to my private club, but it’s in the City, and I hate riding at night.”

His darling studied the Duke as if he wasn’t certain of his intentions. 

“Actually,” the Duke grinned, “it would be nice if you could also invite the Guards?”

Nikolaj grinned. “Darling, they only want you for your Choir,” he told him in Bosilik.

Elik laughed. “I can live with that,” he whispered in their language. “That would be an honour, Your Highness,” he switched to Valentinois. 

Alexandre started guiding them to the palace as his darling nodded to one of his Guards. “I have also taken the liberty of inviting some of my courtiers, as well as some of my friends from the club.”

“What is this ‘club’?” Nikolaj asked him. 

“It is a private association of men who all believe in the same thing. That the ‘way of the brothers’ is the best.”

“Ah.”

Nikolaj frowned again. 

“The way of men loving men,” his darling explained softly.

“Is that how you call it? Hm. I am not sure if it is the best,” Nikolaj grinned. “Women have their charms.” He glanced at his darling. “Not that I am bedding them any longer,” he reassured his love before he got too jealous. 

“Because the ‘way of the brothers’ is better,” the Duke smiled triumphantly. 

Because his darling was too jealous, but also far too accommodating, and he’d rather not deal either with his angry outbursts, or his misery, was the truth, but who liked the truth in palaces? No one. He took Elik’s hand in his. “Because Our Most Gracious Consort is better than women.”

Elik smiled happily at him, before turning to the Duke. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and Nikolaj was shocked to hear him say it and mean it. 

“No, it’s fine,” the Duke smiled at them. “I’m only a little envious now.”

Nikolaj was shocked again. Honesty in the palace? Whoever heard of that? “I hope Luck is with you, and gives you the same happiness She has given Us.”

The Duke snorted.

“So, there will only be ‘brothers’ in your rooms?” his darling asked. 

“Yes,” the Duke answered proudly. 

“Then, with your permission, I will tell my Guards who prefer the way of women to find some other entertainment for the night. It would not be right to make them attend an event they will not enjoy.” He nodded to the other of his Guards who were always escorting him. 

The Duke laughed. “Of course. They really matter so much to you, that you would put their enjoyment before that of your host? A Hundred handsome guards will be easier on the eyes than the ten or twenty that may attend.”

“Yes,” his darling said seriously. “How can they serve me, if I am not willing to serve them and attend to their needs?”

Nikolaj guffawed. “Our Most Precious, do you have any idea how that sounded? Should I be jealous?”

“Excuse me?”

The Duke shook his head with an exasperated sigh. “You are such an innocent, Your Majesty,” he smiled. 

“I am not,” his darling huffed. 

He shared a look with the Duke, and they both nodded. 

His darling glared at him. “I am not,” he insisted. 

“You are, at times,” the Duke told him softly. His expression was patient and teasing at the same time, reminding him of how Mark would act towards his favourite little cousin, protective and playful in equal measure. 

Had Mark not treated him as his twin, Nikolaj would have envied them so. Before his darling could protest again, he turned towards him. “We find it charming,” Nikolaj said as gently as he could, “and it pleases Us.”

Elik’s expression changed from upset to happy. 

“If it makes you feel any better, others find it charming too,” the Duke continued. “My Sister-in-law was so disarmed by it, that she couldn’t even be jealous of your diamond dress.”

“Why should she be?” his darling asked him with earnest curiosity. “She’s always so elegant and her jewels are magnificent. I have never seen anyone more regal than her.”

“Because she can’t afford to have one, and neither do the other Consorts.”

Elik turned towards him. “Husband, how much did that dress cost?” he asked him shocked. “Maybe we should take it apart and use it for the good of the Empire.”

“As I told you, when we run out of diamonds, we will use it, but not before.”

“But….”

He put his finger on Elik’s mouth. “When we need it, We will use it. This I promise.”

“Thank you.”

The Duke sighed softly as he looked at them wistfully. Then he grinned. “We are here,” he said as his servants opened the doors to his rooms. 

Nikolaj looked at it. It was as big as Charles’ dining room, with paintings on almost every surface of the walls, and full of people, most standing and talking, some seated and playing cards. Nikolaj liked how their arrival made them all stir and stand up, bowing to him and his darling. 

“I should introduce you to those you haven’t met so far,” the Duke said.

Nikolaj ignored him, his attention drawn to one of the paintings. “I thought you didn’t like women,” he smiled, pointing at the portrait of a blonde beauty holding a lute. Her chemise had slipped off her shoulder, and half her breasts were out. They looked big and full and Nikolaj stared at them. “Especially such women,” he grinned. 

The Duke laughed. “Oh, that? I don’t, but she is pretty, is she not?”

Nikolaj looked around the room. All the paintings were of women who were scantily dressed as they pretended to be fisherwomen, or shepherdesses or musicians. “And the rest?”

“Well…” the Duke grinned. “Our Most Noble King had decided that art should be decent or not be shown at all, so I bought all the paintings he considered indecent and put them here.”

He never had a little brother, but that was the kind of thing he would have expected a little brother to do. He grinned widely. “These are fascinating,” Nikolaj said, approving of their quality. Some of them looked so real, he thought they were about to step out of the paintings. Even his Royal Painter, who had been educated in the Western manner, could not create such life-like images. And if these had been painted from real life models, how lucky the partners of the models. They all looked delectable. 

“The true jewels of my collection are not on public display, though,” the Duke continued. 

“May we see them?” he asked immediately. 

“They are very… different,” the Duke said after a moment’s hesitation. 

Nikolaj snorted. “I doubt there is anything under the sun that could shock a true Bosilik.”

Elik let out a tiny huff. “I can assure you, that is true,” he smiled. 

“Fine, then,” the Duke told them as he moved across the room, nodding and smiling at his courtiers. 

They followed him until they reached the end of the room. They stopped in front of a door that the Duke opened with a key that he carried on him. The moment they were in, he closed it just as quickly as he’d opened it. 

Despite the secrecy, the room was bright from the light of dozens of candles. It was a big room, and the walls were divided in two sections; their lower part had shelves with books, but from the height of the Duke’s chest, there were covered with paintings. Nikolaj’s first impression was ‘so much flesh’.

The Duke grinned at them. “One never knows when one might show people around. So, what do you think?”

“That’s … We approve of all the nudity,” Nikolaj grinned. He started walking around the room. “Both male and female.” He stopped in front of a painting where a couple embraced with passion under a rain of gold. “Hm, the story of Isolde the Faithful,” he smiled, “who was so loved by the Great Sun God, he showered her with gold.” He continued walking, noticing that all the paintings with couples during love-making showed scenes from myths or stories. “Why isn’t there a painting showing a real couple making love?”

The Duke snorted. “Art criticism must be a hobby in your family.”

Nikolaj looked at his darling, who was studying the painting of Hugo the Brave dying in the arms of his squire. He snorted. “Hardly. But We do not like art or literature that is not true. For example, that painting there, that has Our Most Precious entranced, is a beautiful piece of art, but its beauty cannot hide its lack of fidelity to the truth.”

Elik turned towards him, with a curious expression. 

“Everyone knows that Hugo died defending his king, right? Well, I can accept that his squire removed his armour in order to check for his wounds, even though, that is completely stupid considering that this scene takes place in the battlefield, as you can see from the knights fighting around them. I can even accept that Hugo’s horse is standing there mournfully, whereas everyone knows that horses are more prone to run away in a panic from their fallen masters in the middle of a battle. Perhaps Hugo had a horse as exceptional as he was. What I cannot accept under any circumstances is that Hugo is lying there so peacefully when he is bleeding from … how many wounds does he have, Our Precious?”

Elik turned and hummed. “I can count sixteen,” he said when he was done examining the painting.

“Sixteen?” Nikolaj bellowed. “Sixteen? And he’s just lying there, looking so pretty and still conscious? He should be writhing in pain and moaning or be unconscious and look like a man about to die. Really,” he muttered with indignation.

The Duke stared at him with shock. His darling grinned with amusement. 

“And then,” he turned towards another painting, “why are witches so popular? Surely, if one wants to see three naked women together, one should just paint them, instead of creating this fake image of them dancing in the moonlight next to a cauldron and a broomstick. There are no witches and there should be none either in painting or romances.”

The Duke stifled a giggle. “But witches are such wonderful antagonists.”

“If you want antagonists, you could have some from real life. Like wicked Ladies who don’t know their place, and they will get their just punishment.” He glanced at his darling. 

His darling looked at him with delight. “Thank you,” he mouthed. 

“And what about you, Your Majesty? Do you agree with His Majesty’s assessment?”

“I think the paintings are beautiful but… I would have preferred a picture of Hugo as a wounded stag,” he said quietly. “And… I really hate witches,” he said with a little grimace of distaste. 

“Your paintings are truly admirable,” Nikolaj said. “In fact, I would be more than grateful if you could recommend a painter to Us that could paint such art for Us.” It seemed like he could have someone finally who could paint his darling in all his glory. Naked or otherwise. 

“Of course, of course.”

“And what of these books?” his darling asked. “May I?”

The Duke looked even more awkward. “Yes?”

Elik moved his hand away. 

“Now We are curious,” Nikolaj grinned. “May We?”

Their host sighed in defeat. 

Nikolaj walked up to his darling and picked up the book he had been about to take. “Let’s see.” He opened it at a random page, skipping the title. “Oh,” he grinned. “Darling, look.” He held the book up so they could read together. “They tied me down,” he read out loud, “and lowered my trousers. I shivered with anticipation and fear as the whip made a loud swish. Darling, this is a Forbidden Book,” he laughed. 

“It is,” the Duke shifted awkwardly.

“Is that what you like?” his darling asked their host very quietly and seriously. “Pain?”

“No,” he replied with surprise. “But one cannot choose one’s books any more. It was either I collected them all, or watch them burn. Our Most Good King has decreed them forbidden.”

“Our Most Wise and Honoured Mother had also decreed them forbidden across the Empire,” Nikolaj said. “We have changed that,” he grinned proudly. 

“Happy you,” the Duke snorted. 

“Perhaps Charles will change his mind, the way We changed Our Wise Mother’s decree. I have a couple of questions more. Now that these books are forbidden, does this mean that there are no such books in Valentin anymore? And…” he looked at the book in his hand. “If this is not to your liking, May We have it?”

“To answer the easy question first, yes, of course, you may have it.”

“Thank you.” He turned towards Elik. “Mark will love this,” he whispered, and his darling looked at him with relief. Why? Had his Love been afraid that Nikolaj would tie him down and beat him? 

“To answer the other questions. One may still find such books, if one knows where to look.”

“Ah. Could I then ask you for some for Our private collection? 

“It will take time,” their host said with regret. “One can no longer go into a bookstore and buy them easily.”

“Then, send them with a diplomatic courier when you have them. We would like some more books with this type of content,” he said, lifting the book up. “For a friend. Then, We would like some romances, but they should not have witches or other such things that do not exist. And they should not be boring. We would like ones where the reader can read what a couple does, once they go to bed.”

The Duke smiled. “Understood.”

“And We don’t mean sleeping.”

“I did not think you meant that, Your Majesty,” he replied with a grin. “Any requests from you, Your Majesty?”

His darling shook his head. 

“Since it will take time to find suitable books for you, and I have a lot of books here, why don’t you choose a few to take with you? It would be an honour to present you with this little gift.”

“May We? Thank you. Darling, I will be a while. I need to check all the books thoroughly before deciding on which ones will not annoy me. If I read about one more witch, I … I don’t know what I will do, but it will not be pleasant. So, why don’t you go out and have fun? I bet your Guards are already in the other room.”

Elik bowed a little. “Thank you, Husband. I will leave you to your fun, then.”

“Yes, yes, Love. Hm, this looks promising,” he said as he opened another book and started reading a page at random. “Someone has a big stalk and he is about to put it in his lover’s... Hm.”

He continued skimming the page as his darling and the Duke left him alone in the room. Hm. Maybe he could take a few books for the other Ministers too, and not just Mark? 

&*&*

Alexandre grinned as he guided the Swan out and, at a look from one of the Bosilik Guards, left the door ajar, so they could keep an eye on their Emperor. “His Majesty has very interesting ideas about art. And he seems to really hate witches.”

“He does,” the Swan smiled. “His Majesty wants honesty in all things.”

“I would say that honesty is a useless virtue, but I guess it also has its place.” 

He and the Swan laughed. After all, they had decided to be honest in all things between them, hadn’t they? 

One of the Guards bowed sharply in front of the Swan and told him something in Bosilik. The Swan nodded and the Guard left them alone.

“I should introduce you to people now,” Alexandre said, playing the part of the good host to everyone again. 

“Yes, thank you. Maybe you can start by that dark-haired gentleman talking to Evgeni?” He gestured towards a Guard that Alexandre remembered well from the contest of Consorts he’d orchestrated. He was the one with the magnificent tenor voice. How he would have loved to get him to stay, but he’d learned from Amalia that Henrik had tried and failed to secure him. If a King had failed, what were his chances? 

“Ah, him? That’s the Marquis de Plaisis. He’s a very pleasant man.”

“You make it sound like he is boring.”

“That is,” Alexandre laughed, “because he is. He is very serious, does not understand art, and he is a very practical man.”

“I see. And that man there? Talking to Maxim?”

Alexandre recognized the Guard that had comforted him for the last days. “That’s the Vicomte de Berges. Handsome, but one wonders about the quality of whatever fills his head.”

“Ah. And the one with Afanasy?”

He didn’t recognize the tall, blond man, but, honestly, sometimes, it was difficult to tell them apart. They were all so gorgeous. He did recognize the man in the plain green suit. “That’s the Chevalier d’Heurmegles.”

“No comment on him?”

“He’s… not someone I know well.”

“Hm. Oh, and there’s Alexey. He also seems busy with someone I don’t recognize.”

“That’s Marquis de Caglieres.” Alexandre grinned. “He’s very pleasant too.”

“But not as boring as the Marquis de Plaisis?”

“No,” Alexandre laughed. “He’s a very good dancer. And we have the same tailor.”

“Then, would you be so kind as to introduce me to them? Starting from the Marquis de Caglieres?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Alexandre smiled. He really liked hosting parties and making people meet. This was so much fun!


	36. Chapter 36

Elik leaned on the rail and watched as Lanault became smaller and smaller. How beautiful Valentin was, and how cultured its court. How much fun he’d had, and, he dared think, he’d made some friends too. His Highness definitely. Once he was back, he’d write to him immediately. And to Charlotte and Amalia. And Sophia. Only Philippa scared him a little; she was just so regal. But he would have to write to her too. She had been so kind to him. Only King Richard of Aedley had been as kind. He had to write to him to.

Irina also stared at the coast with sadness, her eyes still red after crying for so long while saying her farewell to Lady Olga.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her. But what prospects would a young Lady like Olga have at Jedlowa? Had Irina joined them at Ivanhof, then he would be more than happy to bring Lady Olga along as her maid-of-honour, but at Jedlowa she would suffer. There was no Court, nor any Nobles who could be suitable partners for her. 

“I know, I know,” Irina whined a little, before smiling. “I know, I will start a letter to her.” She curtsied to Nikolaj and ran to her cabin. How he loved her spirit. 

Elik breathed in the sea air, its scent so strange and so seductive at the same time. Then, when he had his fill, he turned towards His Husband, who was also staring at the coast with a strange expression. His Husband looked concerned about something. “My Love, I asked for one day of not talking about work, and you gave me six.” He smiled. “Should we go back to work now?”

Nikolaj smiled back. “Are you sure? We have a lot to talk about.”

“I can see that something troubles my Sun. Perhaps working will dispel the clouds that cover him from me?”

“How right you are,” Nikolaj told him, his expression turning even more worried for a moment. “We cannot delay work any longer. Let’s go out of the sun first. Did I tell you I got sunburned?”

“No.” How had he managed that? Almost all of the ship was under the shade of the sails, unlike the merchant ship they had hired. He smiled. “Let’s go to the cabin, then. I am not sure if my parasol will be good for both of us, and I wouldn’t want you to get sunburned because of me.”

Nikolaj’s smile was brilliant.

“Ah, my Sun,” he told him. “I had missed you so much.” They smiled at each other. “Where do you want to start?” he said as they started moving towards their cabin. 

Nikolaj frowned as took out his notebook and looked at it. His frown deepened as he flipped through the pages. “Maybe, what if I asked you something simple, and then we talked about work? And, what if you also asked me something easy, before a serious matter? Why don’t you start with the easy question?”

“Hm.” Elik waited until they were inside and the door closed behind them. “Could we have a ship like this one? It’s faster and sleeker than most war ships I have seen, and she sails so smoothly. She’s beautiful.” 

“Can the ship builders you hired make it?” Nikolaj said as he pulled a chair and gestured for Elik to sit.

Elik nodded. “They are very good and came highly recommended. And… I also hired more ship builders at Fladd.” He grinned. “Sorry, but I’m not sorry.”

Nikolaj laughed. “At least this was easy. And to answer you, yes, we can have such a ship if they can build it.”

“What’s your easy question?”

“I have many, but I’ll start with this one. How did you persuade My Court to play cards for trifles?”

Elik was surprised to hear that. “I didn’t do anything. That’s new to me.”

“Hm. I’ll have to keep asking, then.” He smiled. “Not that I mind. It is a good idea, although it is a bit silly. It’s not like we can’t afford to play with money.”

“But why waste money on gambling when you can spend it on good things, like doctors and ships?”

“You do have a point.”

“Besides, a few weeks ago, Gregory made a big walnut cake with all his winnings and it was delicious.” He grinned. “But he made it a day after Fyodor made his, and so Vasily won three new silk handkerchiefs from Vanya and I won a new leash for Oleg from Irina.”

Nikolaj shook his head. “Seriously, how did this become the new fashion in Our court?”

“But it’s fun, and then we can use the winnings. Don’t tell anyone, but Fyodor is a very good cook. I think we need to let him win more eggs and walnuts so he can bake us another cake soon.”

“Yes, that certainly makes sense,” Nikolaj said in a way that made it clear that for him that made no sense whatsoever. “Do you want to discuss something difficult now?”

Elik thought about it. Where to start? He had spent so much time working and talking to people at Aedley, once he knew his Husband wanted him to go back. “I am dismayed at how few things we produce. Did you see the Valentin courtiers? They all wore silk that was made in Valentin, whereas we import ours from the Bright Empire. Same as wool, that we import it from Aedley. So, I was thinking… Caga and southern Quhjan have a nice, temperate climate. I am certain we could grow mulberries there, and have our own silk produced in a few years. And we can have sheep that produce good and plenty quantities of wool. We can buy some from Aedley, or see what types of sheep we have in our land and which ones are better suited for wool production.”

“That is a most reasonable suggestion. Do look into it further when we are back.”

“Thank you. May I also look into other such things?” He took a deep breath. “Do not laugh at me, but… I would like to know exactly how fair and great our land is, and what it can produce. I would like to send cartographers and geographers and experts on agriculture and geology and husbandry and everything else, and have them make a Great Map of Our Land and note what is currently produced where, but also assess what could be produced with greater efficiency in which areas.”

Nikolaj looked at him strangely. “That is the Treasury’s job.”

“Then, why do we import wool? And cotton? Even wheat. I asked. I know Quhjan alone can produce enough wheat for all our Empire. We have so much land that lies uncultivated, only because we never had a need to cultivate it. But my country is now part of yo… our Empire, so it should be cultivated to meet the needs of the Empire. And…” He stopped, remembering what King Richard had told him. He was just the captain’s wife. He was about to sound as if he wanted to take over the ship. He’d probably overstepped his bounds already, he realized. 

“And?” Nikolaj asked him with the same strange expression that Elik couldn’t decipher. Had he stayed away from His Husband for that long? Or had His Husband changed while he was away? 

“And nothing. If that is the Treasury’s job, then it is the Treasury that knows best. I just thought, it would be nice not to have to import my favourite silks at some point.”

His Husband stood up, walked around the table and looked at him. Elik stood still, waiting. If His Husband was mad, then so be it. Nikolaj grabbed him by the shoulders, leaned down and kissed him. Elik opened his mouth, the kiss so much sweeter after he’d expected Nikolaj to shout at him. And so much briefer than he expected. He moaned unhappily when Nikolaj moved away from him and sat back down on his chair.

With a smile, His Husband opened his notebook and wrote on it. “There, now it’s on my list. Do you ever make lists, Darling? They are wonderful things.” He smiled at him. “Your idea of a Great Map is a good one, as well as of seeing what can be done to increase production and manufacture. It just needs a lot of work, but it can be done, My Love.”

“Thank you.”

“You have been thinking much on this journey, haven’t you?” Nikolaj continued to smile at him. “Tomorrow, you will tell me what other thoughts you’ve had. Somehow, I think that you must have some ideas for Our Army too.”

Elik froze. He hadn’t thought that by asking for the Great Map, he’d already asked for too much. He couldn’t ask anything else, nor have any other ideas, at least for the next months. He really didn’t want to take over His Husband’s ship, but he shouldn’t seem like he wanted to take over it either. 

Nikolaj laughed. “You look scared. Why, Love?”

“I’m not scared. I’m just feeling unwell for the first time since I started traveling on a ship.”

Nikolaj stood up and came to his side. “How are you feeling, Darling?” he asked with real worry. 

“A little sick. I think I need some fresh air.” He stood up and hurried out, running until he reached the nearest rail. He took one deep breath, and then another. What was he doing? Freedom had intoxicated him, but now he was back with His Lord and Husband, and he was a good Consort, he really was. He should have a few good ideas every now and then and be nice to everyone, although he would be a little nicer to those he liked.

He heard His Husband approach him. “Are you…” Nikolaj hugged him from behind. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he said after another deep breath. “Maybe you should tell me what you want to discuss.”

Nikolaj’s hold tightened. “I only have difficult things,” he sighed. “I think I should start with the most difficult one.”

Elik shivered. “What is it?”

“I want Sabvajent bay.”

“But it belongs to Oerestand.” It took him one more second before he realised what Nikolaj was saying. “You will start a war. With Oerestand.” He froze. “Is this because of me? Because I wrote you how nice it would be if we had access to the sea, so we could trade more easily with the West?”

Nikolaj chuckled. “Don’t be stupid. It’s not because you wrote that. It’s because I want it.” He made a soft noise, between a huff and a smile. “When I got your letter about the sea, I was so happy, Darling. I thought that you were made for me not because you are as lustful as I am, but because you could see the same things I saw. You saw the sea, and you saw the trade and the wealth that a port would bring to our land. Exactly the same thing I want. Which is…” His Husband let him go for a moment. “Look at me, Love,” he whispered as he stood next to him.

Elik turned so he could face him. “Yes?”

“When we go back, and I leave for war, You will not come with me.” Nikolaj placed his finger on Elik’s mouth. “You will stay home and rule in my place. When I heard you talk of the great Map, I knew I was right. This time, You are ready, My Love.”

Elik couldn’t understand what His Husband was telling him. He frowned, trying to ask with his expression what His Nikolaj meant, since he was not permitted to speak. 

“Darling,” Nikolaj told him quietly, “My Most Precious, You will be Our Regent, and You will have to work hard for Our Empire. You will work together with Our Council and keep the Empire running while I try to gain us access to the sea.” Nikolaj caressed his lips before lowering his hand.

“But, I’m just your wife,” he whispered.

“An Emperor’s wife,” he smiled. “My Love, you know why you will never find a Bosilik Empress at the front by her husband’s side? They all stayed behind, and ruled the Empire. That is Our Tradition.”

How could something so simple as tradition feel so crushing? 

“In fact,” Nikolaj continued with a pleased expression, “Our Mother was Our Regent for the longest time, and she ruled wisely and justly. In the last years of her Regency, she was even more powerful than the Council.” Nikolaj grinned. “I fear that if I give you power over the Council, I may come back to a parliamentary monarchy, so,” he shook his head, “You will rule together with them.”

“I went to the Parliament when I was at Aedley,” he muttered. 

“And?”

“It was shocking. The way they talked of the King was almost seditious, and some were openly against him.”

“I thought you’d like that,” Nikolaj smirked. 

Elik glared at him. “How can you say that? How can I want anyone to be against you? Who do you think I am? I am your most loyal subject, My Lord, so do not insult me like this,” he shouted, truly angry at the suggestion that he could allow anyone to have seditious thoughts against His Lord and Husband. 

His Husband stared at him. The next thing he knew, Nikolaj grabbed him by the waist, put him over his shoulder and started carrying him back to their cabin. 

“What are you doing?”

“Guess,” Nikolaj laughed as he caressed his ass. 

Elik melted against him. He still didn’t understand why His Husband liked it when he got angry, but he liked His Husband fucking him. 

“Fuck,” his Nikolaj suddenly screamed as he opened the door to their cabin. “I should have started from item 1, not item 1.”

&*&*

Vanya glanced down from his position up on the central mast. “And they’re back inside,” he told Roman. “Pay up. I told you they would be fulfilling their marital duties before lunch.”

“Perhaps they are talking.”

Vanya snorted.

With a sigh, Roman took out a little box with sweets. “I was saving that for Stepan,” he complained as he handed it over. 

“If you wanted to keep it for Stepan, then you shouldn’t have bet on it.” He opened it, looked at the dainty little almond cookies and closed it again. “Here, you give it to Stepan from me.”

“Thank you, cousin.”

“You’re an idiot,” Vanya grinned. “I’m going to collect my winnings from the others now. So, tomorrow?”

“I think they will manage to hold on until after lunch tomorrow. I bet you a new notebook.”

“I’m not that sure. I’ll bet a new shirt.” He laughed. “I hope I lose. You do need some new shirts, cousin.”

“What are you talking about?”

Vanya laughed as he climbed down the mast. Hadn’t Roman realised that Stepan had been stealing his shirts all the time? His cousin definitely needed more shirts. 

&*&*

Breakfast over, Nikolaj smiled pleasantly to the others. “Gentlemen, My Most Gracious Consort and I have much to discuss. We are not to be disturbed.”

The two Counts, the Major, and his physician stood up, bowed and left them alone in the room. 

“You are so majestic when you do that,” his darling told him with a pleased expression. “I like it.”

Nikolaj grinned. “So,” he said taking out his notebook, “Back to work?”

“Yes.”

Nikolaj took Elik’s hand in his. “I would prefer it if we could spend all the time in bed, but this is the only time we will have to ourselves before I go to war. Darling, you made me so happy yesterday when you spoke of your idea of the Great Map. Why didn’t we have one such Map already? Why didn’t Dima or the previous Ministers of Finance think of it already?” He kissed his darling’s hand. “My Love, you must share all your ideas with me.”

“But…”

“You will, and so will I,” Nikolaj continued, placing another kiss on the back of his darling’s palm. “What you said yesterday about Quhjan and how much wheat it can produce, got me thinking. Darling, did I … no, I didn’t.” He smiled at Elik. “You have changed. You used to sit on my lap whenever we were alone.”

Elik stared at him surprised. “You mean, I can do that again? I thought you didn’t want me to.”

He shook his head. “I want you to.”

With a little excited gasp, Elik stood up and settled himself on Nikolaj’s lap. “That makes me so happy, so, so happy, Husband,” he sighed as he hugged him. 

Nikolaj hugged him too. “Darling, I was at Jedlowa on the 12th of last month.” Elik froze and Nikolaj started rubbing his back, trying to make him relax. “I thought the commemoration of all the dead was a beautiful thing, although I still don’t understand why you overcook the meat.”

“We don’t overcook it; you like it rare,” his darling told him seriously. 

“Hm? Well, perhaps I do,” he decided not to argue about it. “We gave our permission for Quhjan to continue honouring the dead in the ancestral manner.”

“Husband,” Elik said delighted, “Thank you.” He looked as if he wanted to say something but then didn’t.

“Next year, and every year after that, you may also honour the dead in any way you see fitting,” he told him, guessing what his darling dared not ask. 

“You too? It is your kingdom too, Husband.”

He nodded. 

Elik hugged him even more tightly. “Thank you.” 

“But, as much as I liked the feast and the wine, I couldn’t help but notice how few young men were there. Who will cultivate the fields of Quhjan for the benefit of Our Empire, Darling? So, after what you said, I thought, what if we allowed people to settle in Quhjan? I am not sure if you, or the Council, will like the idea of having Bosilik settlers come and work and live there, but it would help replenish the population that was lost.”

His darling looked at him more and more strangely. He suddenly kissed him hungrily. “I also thought of this and wanted so much to tell you about repopulating Quhjan with Bosilik settlers,” Elik whispered when he broke the kiss, “but I was so afraid you’d think me seditious, and treacherous and that I want to govern in your place.”

“Darling,” he sighed, “it’s Our Empire. Not mine.” He rapped his knuckles very softly against Elik’s temple. “When will you understand that?”

“But a ship can’t have two captains.”

Nikolaj stared at Elik. He had thought long and hard about what it meant to have an Empress who was his equal during the trip, and after seeing His Darling and hearing him, he was certain. His Darling was not just made for him; His Darling was what was missing from him. His Darling was not just his equal; His Darling completed him. And he completed His Darling, that too had become clear to him. “Our ship won’t have two captains. It will have one. One mind, in two bodies.” 

Elik looked at him with such surprise that Nikolaj couldn’t help himself. He kissed him again. Work could wait for a bit.

&*&*

Maxim moved away from the window with a grin. He gestured towards the cabin and pointed at Vanya, nodding. 

“What are you doing there?” the Major asked him sternly. 

Maxim saluted him. 

“That’s no answer, Soldier.” He glanced at the window, and smiled. “Their Majesties,” he said, expression turning serious a second later as he moved away, “are very fond of each other.”

“And greatly pleased with each other,” Vanya dared. 

“Is that a problem, Soldier?” the Major asked him in an almost threatening tone. 

“No, Sir, it is not a problem, Sir,” Vanya shouted as he saluted. 

“Good. Go back to your work and give Their Majesties some privacy.” He suddenly grinned. “At least, until both Majesties say it’s fine to peek into their cabin.”

“Sir? Will you ask them for permission, Sir?” Maxim asked. 

The Major shook his head with a sigh. “What will I do with you?” 

“Join us?” Roman asked. “I bet that tomorrow they won’t even leave the bed before lunch.”

The Major gave them a strange look. “Fine. I bet that they will be up for breakfast as usual. I bet you… If I lose, I will make breakfast for all of you when we reach Yastba.”

“All hundred of us?” Maxim asked with true excitement. The Major was a very good cook, when he actually cooked. His pies were legendary, but so were his pancakes. 

“Yes, for all of you. But if I win… You will not bet again on what Their Majesties do, nor will you peek into their cabin unless you get permission.”

Maxim nodded. “Deal.” 

“Deal. Now, back to work.”

&*&*

Elik frowned. There was something bothering him since the day before, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. He had to check with the Captain. “Love? My Love?”

Nikolaj didn’t even open his eyes. “Hm?”

“I must get up and ask our Captain something. I will be right back.” He kissed His Husband’s temple, then he kissed the top of Oleg’s head, and got up. 

He dressed as quickly as he could, and ran out of the cabin, straight to where the Captain was standing, discussing something with the ship’s First Officer. 

“Good morning,” he told them.

They acknowledged his presence with a nod. 

“I’ve been wondering. We have been going quite fast, haven’t we?”

The Captain smiled. “Indeed. We have been sailing at full speed since the winds are in our favour. We should reach Yastba in three days if they continue blowing like this.”

“Thank you.” He ran back to the cabin, and found His Husband petting Oleg lazily. “My Love, My Husband, My Nikolaj, you must get up and we must get to work.”

“What is it?”

“The winds. I had thought that this was a fast ship from the start, and it is compared to the merchant ships we had hired on our way to Valentin, but I had no idea how fast it could go until now.”

“Eh?”

“Didn’t you notice how fast we have been sailing? My Love, the Captain says we’re at full speed. We will be at Yastba in three days if the winds keep blowing like this.”

Nikolaj sat up. “Really?”

He nodded. “I’ll ask for breakfast to be served.” He ran and gave Nikolaj a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

On his way out, he saw Vasily. “Good morning, we are going to have breakfast soon. Could you let Count Rasoulin and Count Njedzic know and join us?”

Vasily nodded. “I will also give the orders for breakfast to be served. You should go back inside.” He smiled. “I am so happy you are so committed to work.”

“Yes?” He smiled. “I like working as much as I like music. Vasily, can you stay for a while after breakfast? I want to talk about artillery to His Majesty, but you know more about cannons than I do. Will you, please, tell Him why they are so marvelous, and why we should have more? And, will you take my side when I tell His Majesty that I had to hire men to make them?”  
Vasily nodded again, his smile widening into a proper grin.

“Also, when we are finally home, could we have a talk about Dima’s career options? He’s about to turn sixteen, and I cannot let him leave my service without having a place to go.”

Vasily frowned. 

“He’s quick, clever, and very, very observant. I think he would do well under your tutelage.”

“You hardly need to talk to me about Dima’s military career.”

“Not that work. The other work you do. The one I’m not supposed to know about but I am certain that you do. Well, think about it, and I will also think about it.” Elik smiled at him. “See you at breakfast, Major.” 

He ran back inside, and found His Husband still petting Oleg. “Husband,” he grinned. “You waited for me to dress you? Oh, you are the most wonderful Husband in the world. Dressing you is the next best thing after undressing you. Ah, work, work, work.”

“We could skip work,” His Husband teased him. 

“No, I already have plans. I know what I want to talk about today.” He smiled. “And I am certain you too have things to talk to me about.” He hugged him and kissed him. “First we will work, but then we will do other things.”

“More work?” Nikolaj laughed.

“How did you guess?” 

&*&*

Nikolaj gave a nod to the Major and watched him leave. Why hadn’t he thought of putting the Major in charge of his Office of Secret Affairs? He was an excellent intelligence officer, clearly capable of both co-ordinating his agents and analyzing information. He had to think if the Major should move to a different post instead of baby-sitting His Darling and doing everything else he did at the same time. What an officer he'd gained when he lost a courtier. Maybe it was time for that to change as well?

“Darling,” he turned to Elik the moment they were alone, “Why do you care you so much that we have a thoroughly modern and combat-ready Army when you don’t like fighting? Not that I mind,” he grinned. 

“Because it’s better to be prepared for war, while living peacefully. Do you know of what use those cannons would have been to you if you already had had them in your campaign against Oerestand?” Elik frowned. “Why do you want to fight them now?”

“Because George is weak right now, if he’s not already dead, and his court will be divided soon, if it hasn’t already. I suspect that Our Brothers Francis and Leopold will try to put George’s bastard Fredrik on the throne, pushing aside his rightful heir and his mother, the Regent. I’m still thinking if I should join them. It wouldn’t be a bad idea, although I think Fredrik will not be as grateful as Francis hopes he will. Not that I ever met the man, but…” He shrugged. “My plan is to take Sabvajent while George’s wife tries to consolidate her position. Francis thinks I’m an idiot for this,” he grinned. 

Elik nodded with a slight frown. 

“You also think I’m an idiot?” he laughed, purposely misunderstanding whatever his Love meant by that gesture. 

“No, of course not,” His Darling cried out. “I just agree, this seems the right time, but…” Elik frowned again.

“Yes?”

“If I were at the New Territory of Oerestand, I would use the opportunity to rebel against you. Is your hold that strong, that you are not afraid that while you fight to take hold of Sabvajent bay, you won’t also face a rebellion against you, and attack from your rear?”

Nikolaj stared at Elik. “Is that what you would do, if you were at Oerestand?”

Elik nodded. “And, if I were still back in Quhjan, if I had stayed there, I would have advised the Council to rebel against you as well.”

Nikolaj snorted. “Aren’t I lucky you married me?”

“Yes, you are,” his darling smiled at him. The next moment he stood up and sat on his lap. A second later he hugged him tightly. “The Council is happy that they rule themselves now, and they will be loyal to you. Especially since they have not received the decree to modernize Jedlowa yet.”

Nikolaj chuckled. “I’m sorry, other things were more urgent.” He tickled Elik. “Like getting you back where you belong.” And finding who had dared threaten and hurt his darling. Hm … if he were a Quhjani Elder, he’d probably also use the opportunity to rebel. He continued teasing Elik as he thought about his darling’s words. 

Elik laughed, but didn’t stop him from tickling him. “I was thinking,” he said once Nikolaj stopped, “what if we invite members of the Council to see how the Capital is? That will make them understand how we mean no destruction of the Quhjani way of life, but to improve it. Ah, running water is marvelous. I’ve travelled across half the West to find that we had the most marvelous thing of them all at home.”

“That is true, running water is most wonderful. We can invite some Council Members home. Think who might be more agreeable to Our decree. Not Grigorief.”

“No, not him.” 

Hm, how could he neutralize Oerestand and safeguard his rear? He had it. “You want the New Territory of Oerestand to be joined to that of Quhjan. You want to send Quhjani men to govern it.”

Elik looked at him strangely. “No, I was about to suggest that you take Quhjani cavalry and use it in your campaign.”

“But my idea has merit,” Nikolaj grinned, certain that Luck had sent His Darling to him so he could inspire him. 

“I guess so. Yes, it does.” Elik nuzzled him. “When you are so brilliant, I just want to drag you to bed and…” He growled. “Work must come first.”

Nikolaj hugged him tightly. “Yes, it must, Love. Especially if we are to be back at Yastba in three days.” He sighed, remembering Item 1, which was not Item 1, but maybe should have been Item 1 from the start. “Fuck. You know, you can’t drag me to bed anymore. Or the nearest service room. Or behind the bushes.”

“What?” Elik screamed, shocked. 

“Well, not when we are in public, anyway. And,” he sighed even more deeply, “Neither can I, anymore.”

“Oh.” Elik did sound disappointed. “Why?”

“Because we are Husband and Husband and we must treat each other with respect. Only slaves get dragged behind the bushes, not equals.”

Elik nodded slowly, still looking unconvinced. “I thought that you can do that when you are Emperor and Empress.”

“My Love,” Nikolaj continued, “Unfortunately, the Emperor needs to be even more proper than everyone else. When you drag me behind the bushes, you behave like a slave who knows no better. When I drag you to the nearest room, I behave like you are still my slave. Both behaviours send the wrong message.” He caressed Elik’s face. “And while everyone is ready to forgive you, because you came to Ivanhof as my slave, no one is willing to forgive me for treating my Empress like a slave. My Elik, the Reds took arms against me because they wanted to protect you from me.”

“Excuse me?”

“They thought I was dishonouring you.” He rubbed the tip of his nose against Elik’s. “Husband, we must be circumspect from now on.” 

“From now on, we must hide our love?” Elik asked him softly. 

“Yes. Not as much as if we were at Quhjan,” he grinned, “but we must do no more than hold hands or hug or share brief kisses.”

“And no more sitting on your lap?”

“It’s fine when we are in private. But in public, we really must behave as if we were at Charles’ dinner from now on.” 

Elik sighed as he let his head rest on Nikolaj’s shoulder. “Sometimes, I wish you weren’t the Emperor. Roman and Stepan can run to the nearest empty room whenever they are free of duties, and, believe me, Love, they do that a lot.” He chuckled. “They’ve probably found all the secluded corners on this ship too, by now.”

He laughed. “I can believe that. Ah, Love, since you did not swear at that, you will swear now, and you will wish I weren’t the Emperor again, when you hear the next thing I must tell you.”

“Yes?”

“The Bright Empire offered me an alliance. Peace at the Eastern borders and the province of Taya too.”

“And? Why would I swear at that? That’s good, is it not?”

“The Emperor gives me the alliance under one condition.” He hugged Elik tightly, afraid that when Elik heard the rest, he’d escape him. “He wants me to divorce you, and make his niece my Empress.”

As he’d expected, Elik tried to slip away from him. When he realized that Nikolaj held him tightly, he hit him with his palm on the shoulder. “You must,” he shouted. “Don’t be stupid. Securing your borders and creating a strong alliance with the Bright Empire is more important than keeping me as your Empress.” Elik relaxed suddenly, and looked at him with a resigned expression. “Just, let me go home, to my land and my garden and… May I keep Oleg?” he asked him quietly. 

Nikolaj stared at him. His darling was either an idiot, or he was trying to get out of their marriage. And since he was fairly certain that his darling did want to stay married to him, then he had to be an idiot. Not a complete one, at least. “Why would I make a stranger my Empress when I have you?”

“Because, she comes with a province. And an alliance.”

“And you come with a mind I love.” Nikolaj smiled at Elik. “I love you, my hard-working, clever Husband. I’m not marrying a princess who will do nothing but look pretty in silks while drinking tea.”

“You don’t know that she will do that.”

“No, but I know what you can do, and I’d rather have you, than her. Besides, did you not listen to me? I love you.”

Elik made that cute sound that was almost a sigh and almost a purr, and nuzzled him. “I love you too. I’m glad you are not sending me back home.”

He laughed. “I know. Your sister had written to me that you were miserable there.”

“I did nothing but miss you all these months, My Love. Still… you should get married to her.”

“I would marry her if I didn’t have to make her my Empress.”

“Why don’t you?”

“What?”

Elik looked at him. “Make her your wife.” He narrowed his eyes for a moment. “What if you changed the titles? I will be your Wife, well, Husband of First Rank, and she can be of Second Rank. Or maybe, she can be called your Noble Consort. And then, your other wives could become Wives of High Rank. Or something like that.”

Nikolaj grinned. “Am I allowed concubines?”

Elik looked deep in thought. “Yes, but they should also have a title, since they give you free children.”

“And bed-slaves?” he kept grinning.

“No.” Elik looked at him seriously. “My Love, My Husband, My Nikolaj, I have seen the error of my ways by drafting the abolition bill.”

Nikolaj was certain that His Love was lying. “Have you?”

“Yes. I don’t want anyone to use my words to harm you,” he said, and this time Nikolaj believed him. “But, since We cannot free the slaves in Our Empire, may We be allowed to deal with the slaves that belong to Us as We please?”

Nikolaj studied Elik. He didn’t tell him what task he meant to have him do when he returned at Ivanhof. “And how would you like to deal with them?” he asked him seriously. “My Love?” he added, afraid that Elik might misunderstand him and think he was being censured. They would never be one mind in two bodies if Elik didn’t share his thoughts, and Nikolaj didn’t encourage him. 

“I would like them to live in houses rather than the basements of Ivanhof, and be allowed to have their families. To earn money for their services, and to have their children educated in school. Everyone should know how to read and write.”

Nikolaj nodded. “Yes, I agree with you. In fact, this was something that I have been thinking about. We should have schools in general, for boys and girls too. And we should have an Academy of Sciences and one of Arts.”

“And one of Medicine?”

“I thought Medicine could be one of the sciences, but it can be a separate one, if you wish.”

Elik nodded excitedly. 

“You’ll be its first student, won’t you?” he grinned. 

“I wouldn’t mind studying medicine,” Elik smiled at him.

“Well, you decide.”

“Excuse me?”

“Darling, can I show you something?”

Elik slid off his lap immediately. 

Nikolaj went to the desk and opened the case where he was keeping all his papers. He took out several sheets and brought them over. “I have never been confined in one place for so long, and I had nothing to do but think and work and learn new things as I was coming to find you.” 

He put the papers on the table and started spreading them out. “These are my thoughts on the educational system. These are on the movement of populations and the resettling of the land. These are on the military reforms. These are on the integration of the New Territories to the Empire. My list of possible heirs. Do you have any decent relatives that can be added? These are other outstanding matters, like reading all the decrees Our Mother decreed and deciding which ones are too forbidding for Us, and some ideas about Ivanhof. Or should that be Nikolajikhof, after the remodeling? Or maybe Elikhof? It’s your house too.”

His darling looked like he couldn’t believe him. “What’s this paper with the words in circles and linked by arrows in a circle?”

“These are my thoughts on slavery. It’s a vicious circle, Love, and we are trapped in it. I have no idea how to break it.” He gathered all the papers in one stack and handed them to Elik. “There.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you Our work.” Nikolaj grinned. “By the time we reach Yastba, we will have looked at all these documents, and we will have written new ones with your ideas about the Empire.” Really, how lucky was he that his Darling had different good ideas than he did? They truly completed each other. “Ideally, we will have reached also Our decisions, but, Darling, I do want to get Sabvajent bay. You will sort out the details for Us while I fight, won’t you?”

Elik stared at him surprised. 

“I do want you for your mind, Darling,” he grinned as he took the papers from him, put them back on the table, and hugged him, lifting him up. “I really do. But your body is not bad either, and no one is watching. Can we take a break now and continue working after lunch?”

His darling laughed with true delight.

Ah, how he loved His Darling. They really were one mind in two bodies and their mind definitely knew that work could wait a little.


	37. Chapter 37

“I preferred it when the trip was not as fast,” Nikolaj whispered to his darling as they watched the Guards descend. It had taken him a week to reach Valentin from Deep Port, and a week to arrive from Lanault to Yastba. The power of the winds was extraordinary, but it didn’t make him happy to be back so fast. 

“I would have preferred it too,” Elik told him just as quietly. “Why is there an Ustvelan detachment waiting for us?”

“I’m more worried about the man about to greet us. Did you meet him?”

“Briefly. He’s the Minister of Foreign Affairs, right?”

Nikolaj nodded. “And he’s the wiliest man in Ustvela, right after Francis. I smell a rat, my darling.”

Elik frowned. “Do you think …?”

“I think nothing.” He smiled at Elik. “Everything will be fine.” He wondered if he should hold Elik’s hand or not. They had to be circumspect and proper from then on. Just as they had been at Charles’ dinners. How had they managed that? He was still impressed.

“Your Majesties,” the Major told them softly. 

“He always does that,” Elik said even more quietly, just for Nikolaj’s ears. “He knows I’d rather hide than make an entrance.”

Nikolaj chuckled. “Everyone has gone through all this trouble to look good in their dress uniforms and in attention. The least we can do is inspect them.”

Elik nodded. “Yes, you are right, My Husband.” He glanced back. “This was fun,” he said before looking ahead. “You must go first, it’s in the Manual of Military Etiquette.”

Nikolaj glanced at the Major. Was he the one responsible for giving another rule book to his darling to learn? Oh, well… He started going down under the command for the Guards to present arms. After two steps, he heard Elik walk behind him, just as protocol demanded. 

He nodded to his Guards as he passed them by, and then at the Ustvelan detachment, and only allowed himself to smile when he stopped in front of Count Michalowski. 

The Count bowed deeply at him. “Our Most Good Sovereign, His Majesty King Francis, sends you his greetings and his regret that he could not welcome you in person.”

“I am certain he was busy. Please, give him Our thanks and gratitude for letting Us use his fine ship.”

The Count started walking gestured for them to proceed. “We have prepared horses for Your Majesties and your entourage as well as a carriage for Her Excellency. His Majesty, in his concern for Your safety has arranged for the finest of His Guards to escort you to the borders.”

Nikolaj nodded as if he were pleased. He felt like they were trying to get rid of them as soon as possible, but also make sure that they would be isolated from everyone on their way out. He looked at the beautiful black stallion that they had chosen for him and the white one for his darling. “These are magnificent horses,” he said, honestly pleased. He mounted his horse. “Thank His Majesty for Us.” 

Elik gave a nod to the Count. “Yes, and please convey Our Greetings to Prince Anton. What a shame he couldn’t meet us either.”

The Count grimaced for a moment. “The Prince is indisposed.”

“Oh, how horrible. Is he ill? We would be happy to send one of Our physicians to him,” Elik continued with genuine concern. 

Was his Darling so naïve? Anton was probably as indisposed as his Darling had been unwell. The question was, why? 

“It is nothing serious,” the Count answered. “He will be well soon.”

“Please, send him Our best wishes for a swift recovery,” his darling said seriously.

Nikolaj nodded. It wasn’t bad that his Love looked so sincerely worried. Perhaps it could make Francis rethink about what he planned on doing. Surely keeping the alliance with the Empire was better than whatever he was thinking? 

He watched as their Guards mounted their horses and Lady Irina climbed in her carriage with a sour expression. At least she would have Oleg to keep her company. His fur was so soft, and he had grown used to sleeping in the same bed as that ball of fluff that had whined miserably during all their days on board. He grinned. “Oleg is probably the only one happy that the trip was so short.”

His darling smiled. “So true. Husband, what did you do to Our Men and they were not sick during the trip? No one asked for my help.”

“I ordered them not to be sick.” Nikolaj laughed at Elik’s shocked expression. “No, I told them that I was the one suffering the most, and that I had constant need of your help and attention.” He brought his horse closer to his darling’s. “Do you think you are the only one who hates sharing? And we had so much work to do. It was time to let the doctors be doctors and do their work, while we did ours.” He glanced back, noting with satisfaction that everyone seemed to be on their horse. “Your Excellency, please convey Our gratitude to His Majesty for all his help.” He raised his arm and pointed towards Bosilke. “Men, onwards,” he shouted as he spurred his horse on, and it started galloping.

Behind him, Elik laughed. 

So, they thought that just because they were being kicked out of Ustvela, he would make life easier for his escorts? As if. 

&*&*

The closer they went to the borders, the more excited he felt. He urged his horse to run as fast as it could. He could see his men in the distance waiting for them. He couldn’t wait to be home and find out what was happening. For the last two days, their Ustvelan guards had kept such a close eye on all of them and had made them spend the night in the middle of nowhere. Crafty Francis definitely wanted to keep something from him for as much as possible. Once he was on the other side of the borders, he’d know. 

Soon, he told himself as he pressed his spurs on his horse’s flanks and petted its neck. “Faster, faster,” he told it. “Hold on a little longer and you’ll be rid of me.”

As if it understood him, his horse sped up for the last hour or so, and behind him he could hear the gallop of more than two hundred horses sound like thunder. What a feeling of riding as fast as possible, with home within his sight. What a wonderful, glorious feeling. 

The moment they crossed the borders, Nikolaj shouted with utter delight. He slowed down and jumped off his horse. “Cool him down, and take care of him,” he commanded the first guard he saw. He petted the horse. “He’s a good beast. Fast too.” He smiled. “Ha, it’s good to be home,” he shouted, grinning madly at Vassily. It really was. 

“Indeed,” his darling smiled as he dismounted. “Please, take care of him,” he said, handing the reins of his horse to another Guard.

Nikolaj turned towards the Ustvelan Major who had been escorting them with his men. “Thank you for keeping Us safe. We can send you the horses back, or you can wait to take them back with you tomorrow, after they have rested.”

“We will wait,” The Major shouted from the other side of the border. 

“As you wish.” He watched as His Guards dismounted and Major Lesnev helped Lady Irina off her horse. 

“Thank you for agreeing to have her ride as well,” his darling whispered to him. 

“I did not want to wait a day longer for the sake of a carriage and a few things. Francis has done something, and we would never learn what, while we were at Ustvela.” 

Elik nodded. “Ah, and it is so good to be home.” 

“Vassi…” Nikolaj started when he heard a deep bass voice sing something about the grass. His darling’s most prized singer was at it. But why? The other members of the choir joined him, singing about the forest now. 

“It’s the Coming Home song,” Elik told him, looking excited and sad at the same time.

“You can sing too,” he smiled. 

He turned around for a second, shrugging at Vassily’s unspoken question. The Hundred were standing in attention with one hand over their hearts while they sang about clear waters turned towards the Capital. From the corner of his eye, he saw his Darling do the same, his clear voice loud and beautiful. A moment later, he decided that the look of surprise on Vassily’s face and of his staff was not as fun as looking at the Choir. Now that he knew about theatre, he also was able to recognize when people were being dramatic, and he enjoyed watching them. 

The song continued about how other countries were richer and their people had possessions and wealth, but they did not have the soil of Mother Land, dyed with blood, the forests of Mother Land, filled with spirits, the waters of Mother Land, easing any pain. 

“Mother Land, I come back to you, let me rest home,” they all sang. “Let me breathe your air, let me kiss your soil. Let me rest home.”

As one, they all fell to their knees and kissed the ground. 

Nikolaj raised an eyebrow. Why did his darling need a theatre when he’d turned every place he was into his stage and he had a hundred actors with him eager to play along? More than a hundred, he realized when he saw that the Major, the Quartermasters, but also Count Rasoulin and their servants were also getting up after their homage to the earth. 

His darling smiled at him. How happy he looked; how beautiful he was. Nikolaj’s breath caught in his throat. “Sorry,” his darling said, looking not sorry at all, “We sing a lot. Stepan must have taught them this.”

Ah, that must have been the priceless singer’s peasant, Quhjani husband.

“It is a beautiful song, if a little dark. Soil dyed with blood and forests full of spirits?”

“Many battles were fought for this soil and in these forests.”

Nikolaj nodded. “Of course, you are right.” The Quhjani were a little morbid, he decided. He glanced at Vassily. “Our Most Perfect and Peerless Consort, We need to hear Vassily’s report now.”

Elik nodded and took a step away from him.

“We, Husband.” He took Elik’s hand in his and followed Vassily to the tent. “Well?” he asked Vassily impatiently. “Is everything ready for Our departure to the front?”

Elik sighed next to him but stayed quiet. Finally, his darling had accepted what they had to do. One body would fight at the front, while the other would hold the centre, their joined mind driven by the same desire to bring glory to the Empire. 

Vassily nodded. “There have been developments that may necessitate a change of plans,” he said.

He started pacing around. “I knew it. That cunning fox did something. What happened?”

“King Francis and King Leopold helped Fredrik become the new King of Oerestand. He travelled from whatever hole he was hiding in Rodtal, put himself under the protection of King Francis, and the day that King George died, he sailed from Yastba to Oerestand where he was hailed as the rightful king by the people and half the court.”

“And the other half of the court?”

“They left the capital and escaped.” 

Nikolaj frowned. “When?”

“King George died on the first of this month, Fredrik sailed on the second, and he was crowned on the fourth, being gracious enough to not go after George’s Queen as he was busy with the festivities.” Vassily snorted. “He knew she couldn’t run far.”

“So, both cunning bastards started planning how to put Fredrik on the throne the moment they heard George was dying.” He glanced at his darling, and saw him smile. “What?”

“You also started planning to take Sabvajent bay the moment you heard George was ill,” his darling said. “That makes you as cunning as them. Only,” his expression fell, “you wasted time to come get me. Why, Husband?”

Nikolaj smiled. “Because I had missed you, and wanted you to come back and rule for me. I don’t regret it.” He nodded at Vassily. “So, why shouldn’t We head to the front now? With half the court gone, and surely others still preferring George’s legitimate heir to that bastard, the country is divided. It is the right time, even if this means that I will have to face Ustvela and Rodtal too. We can manage, can’t we?”

Vassily stared at him. “George’s Queen is with the Chancellor at Jedlowa.”

He froze. “What?”

“Where else could she go but Bosilke with the sea and land routes to the West closed to her? She tried to cross Quhjan and, from here, travel to Vilnia and take a ship from there, but she was caught with a few of her Ladies and her secretary. We suspect the others are hiding in the New Territory of Oerestand, but there is no point going after them before Your Majesty decides what to do about George’s Queen.”

Nikolaj stood still. One course of action would be to continue as he had planned, and let the Queen and her baby escape to her family in the south. Or he could put her to prison together with her child, and stand by Leopold and Francis. He was certain he could ask for Sabvajent bay in return for his help. Or, he could secure his New Territory of Oerestand and get Sabvajent too, this time from the Queen. “She was caught here, you say?”

Vassily nodded. 

“What are we waiting for? Are the horses ready for departure? We must see the Queen Mother and George’s true and rightful heir as soon as possible.” He kissed Elik on the forehead. “Darling, you are a genius.”

“Excuse me?” His darling looked at him shocked. 

“She couldn’t have crossed the New Territory of Oerestand unless the people there were willing to help her escape. They are supporting her now as well, if, as you say, they are hiding her courtiers. If I stand by her, and support her cause, then the New Territory will not rebel against me and attack me from the back while I fight at the front. Even if we don’t get Sabvajent bay, the territory will remain loyal to Us after that. Perhaps I can install her as Governor. Wouldn’t that be amusing? Create a New Oerestand in the Empire, one that will be as autonomous as Quhjan. Ha, no one will expect me to create such a thorn at Old Oerestand’s side.” He turned towards Vassily. “Give the command. We ride as soon as I use the privy.”

&*&*

Riding all night to get to Jedlowa was fun. Sailing was faster, but Nikolaj definitely preferred the feel of his horse galloping as fast as it could, the earth rumbling under the feet of the horses of all his men. 

And, he’d probably never tell it to his darling, but the sight of the newly-built houses of Jedlowa in the middle of the meadows and the river sparkling just beyond them was beautiful in the sunrise. The light painted everything a delicate pink that was the exact shade of his darling’s lips. 

As he approached, he saw that this time they were waiting for him by the Gate. There was Mark in his uniform and with some of his Reds behind him, there were the Elders, still dressed in black gowns like miserable crows, there were Guards, but there was also a small, solitary figure waiting for him before them. She was dressed in dark grey, and wore a veil over her head. 

He started slowing down. “is this a play?” he asked his darling, who was riding next to him. “Is that George’s Queen?”

“I think so,” his darling agreed. 

Nikolaj grinned. “Ah, then this will be the best play you have ever seen. A piece of royal theatre.”

“I thought you weren’t sure if you wanted to have theatres at Bosilke.”

“I’m not sure about them, but Our royal theatre is a different thing.” He grinned at his darling. “My Love, you are good, but now you will see that I too can act.”

Elik chuckled. 

As he slowed down to a trot and came even closer, the Queen fell to her knees. He dismounted and stepped in front of her. 

She looked up. The portraits did her no justice. She was young and pretty, with large, dark eyes and dark, brown hair, but she looked like she had been crying for days. “Your Majesty,” she said in Valentinois and started crying, “Please, take pity on me.”

“What have you done against Us to ask for pity?” he replied to her in the same language. 

She looked at him as if she couldn’t understand him. 

His accent was not that bad! Everyone had understood him at Sorain. It had to be shock. Amused by that, he gave her his hand. “Rise, Sister. We have no quarrel with you. Please, accept our condolences for the death of His Majesty, Your Husband.” When she finally took his hand, he helped her up. “Accept also Our indignation at what happened.”

“Your Majesty, you will let us live?” she whispered. “George was your enemy.”

He frowned. Killing her had never been his intention. “An enemy with whom We had signed a peace treaty. My Lady, I would like peace between Our kingdoms, not war.” He looked at her seriously. “But Fredrik has made peace impossible. If We want peace, We must have war first.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My Lady,” he said quietly, “I am willing to take up arms and support your cause and George’s legitimate heir. I will be your champion, if you sign a new peace treaty with me. One that furthers Our borders to the north.”

“How much of Oerestand do you want?” she asked him tiredly. 

“Only Sabjavent bay. I just need one port, My Lady, and you have many. One port, in exchange for peace and the throne for your son.” He smiled at her. “If Luck is against Us, then we have another proposal for you. And if Luck is completely against Us, then you can live at Ivanhof with Our Most Precious Spouse and Consort.”

He studied her. Who knew, if Luck was completely against him, then perhaps his darling and this pretty widow could find solace in each other arms. She was close to his Love in age, not being older than twenty, or twenty-one years of age, and she was small and delicate. His darling liked dainty women, he was certain of that. “What do you say to Our proposal, Lady?”

She nodded exhaustedly. 

He knelt before her and took her hand in his again. “My Lady, I vow here, in front of…” he stopped himself. They didn’t have Honoured Ancestors in Quhjan, but they did sing a lot about spirits and blood and Mother Land…. “Of all the Spirits and Mother Land, that I will be your champion and restore your son to his rightful throne. This I vow.” He repeated his vow in Bosilik for everyone to hear, and was happy that the silence after his vow in Valentinois was replaced by clapping and cheering after the one in Bosilik. He was good at this!

He stood up and smiled at her. “You look tired.” He turned towards his Love. “Our Most Gracious Consort, would you offer some tea to Our Royal Sister?” He waited until Elik took the Queen’s arm. “Chancellor, how wonderful to see you. Let us also have some tea, it was a long ride.”

He started walking towards Jedlowa’s gate, with Mark two steps behind him and his darling supporting Queen Adelaide. Oh, how he longed to ask his Elik if he’d performed his part well. Not that he had any doubt about that. But first he had to talk to Mark. 

&*&*

His Husband and the Chancellor frowned when he said that he wanted to make their tea himself, but since Nikolaj allowed it, the Chancellor also said nothing. Elik was surprised, though, when they followed him into the kitchen. It was empty, as if people knew when he was about to go there, and gave him his space. That had never happened before he was Imperial Consort, and he still didn’t know how he felt about it. No, he did; he liked it. He just felt bad about it. 

He bade them all sit as he started heating water. “How wonderful, we still have some of this,” he said as he opened a box of the blue tea Her Majesty, the Empress of the Bright Empire had sent him in the beginning of the year. He put a few teaspoons into the pot and glanced back at the table. 

Everyone was just so quiet, His Husband clearly trying to find the opportunity to leave with the Chancellor and go back to work, and Queen Adelaide looking like she was about to faint. Why hadn’t she asked any of her Ladies to stay with her, and told them instead that she wanted to be alone? She looked like she needed help. He decided to act silly. “Chancellor, why are there no biscuits or little sweetmeats anywhere? Have you not entertained once since you came here?”

The Chancellor’s eyes opened wide in shock. His Husband bit back a chuckle. Even Queen Adelaide smiled a little. 

“I clearly have to make some,” he continued. “Husband, I need the table so I can work,” he winked at him. 

Nikolaj grinned. “I’ll be out of your kingdom as soon as I have my tea, Our Most Precious.”

“Thank you. Since I’ll be preparing food, I might as well do things properly. Do you have any requests for dinner?”

“Anything you prepare for Us will be well-received,” Nikolaj smiled at him. 

He checked the water. It still needed a few more minutes. “Maybe I should kill a chicken or two,” he said loudly. “How do you feel about chicken soup? It is very restorative.”

“It is the middle of Summer,” Nikolaj gasped. “I don’t want hot soup.”

“Hm… do you want cold soup, then?”

“Yes, that would be most welcome.”

Elik smiled at him and poured the water into the teapot. He took down two cups, put them on a tray together with the pot, and put it on the table. “Here.”

Nikolaj gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. Come on, Mark. We have tea, now we can go upstairs.”

As they left, he turned towards Queen Adelaide. “You look like you have a headache,” he told her as he took another pot from the shelf, added blue tea and dried lavender buds, and poured the just boiled water inside. “Lavender always helps me with mine.”

She looked like she didn’t believe him. 

He took out the little pouch he always carried with him and handed it to her. “It helps.” Though he hadn’t had any headaches after he had left Ivanhof, the habit remained. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some chicken soup? I’m sorry to say this, but you really look unwell. Really unwell.”

She folded her arms on the table, lowered her head and started crying. 

Elik wondered if he should call for her Ladies, but the Queen herself had asked them to leave her alone. Perhaps he should call his sister? He discarded the thought immediately. Irina would probably tell the poor woman to stop crying and man up. How nice it would be if Lady Ekaterina were there. Why couldn’t she have joined her husband? He sighed. “Please, don’t cry.” He sat down next to her and wondered again what to do. 

What would he like someone to do if he were crying? “Would you like a hug?” he asked her softly. 

She sniffled and nodded. 

He hugged her lightly. “Is there anything I can do to help? Should I call one of your Ladies to assist you?”

She shook her head.

“Should I make you chicken soup?”

She huffed, and laughed a little. 

“You can trust Nikolaj, if that is what worries you. He is a good man.”

She shook her head again.

“He is,” he protested.

“That’s not it,” she sniffled. 

Elik found his handkerchief and gave it to her. 

She wiped her eyes. “I’m…” she sniffled again and wiped her nose. She looked at him as if she were lost. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.” He stared at her. What was he supposed to say? “Congratulations?” he told her, feeling lost himself. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“It is,” she smiled, “But it makes me…” She started crying again. “Half the time I cry when I want to laugh, and when I laugh, I want to cry. My Ladies are so tired of me,” she sighed. “And, I keep wanting the strangest things. You wouldn’t happen to have pickles and strawberries, would you?”

He let her go. “Let me check. We should still have strawberries in the garden. Can you wait for a few minutes?” He picked up the first bowl he could see. 

She stood up and followed him out. “Why don’t you send a servant to check?”

“Yes, why?” He smiled at her. “Because it’s such a simple and easy thing to do,” he told her seriously as he headed to the strawberry bushes. “Compared to everything else.” He sighed. Everything else was complicated. 

She sighed as well. “I wish I were home. My Father could help me raise an army to take back Oerestand for Augustus without….”

Without our enemies’ help, she must have wanted to say. Elik knelt down and started looking for the berries. “Nikolaj is a man of his word,” he told her again. “He does want peace between our countries.”

“He also wants a part of my country,” she said proudly. 

“Isn’t that a small price to pay for the rest of it? A bay in exchange for the rest of the kingdom?”

“It is,” she admitted.

“But you don’t like it,” Elik smiled at her. 

“No,” she huffed. 

“I wouldn’t like it either in your place. But if I were in your place, I would also accept it.”

She looked at him. “I have accepted it, haven’t I?” she whined. “What happens if he doesn’t get Oerestand, though? What will he do then? What will he do to me? And my children?”

Elik stood up. “Nothing will happen to you. Or your children. He’s promised you, and so do I.” He took her hands in his. “This I vow to you. While you live at Bosilke, you will be under Our protection. If Luck is against Us,” he took a deep breath, not wanting to think of that, “You will live at Ivanhof, like every other Princess at Our court, and your children will grow up as Bosilik princes. You will lack for nothing.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She glanced at the strawberries. 

“Let’s go find the pickles,” he told her as picked up his bowl from the ground and led her back inside. “Do you want to help me make a cold soup? We can add lots of pickles in it.”

“And strawberries?”

“Maybe in your plate only? I don’t think the others will appreciate the combination.”

She smiled and nodded. “Good. You promised, right? Nothing will happen to me or my children?”

“Yes, I did.”

She sighed. “I want to cry again. From relief.” 

“Then cry.” He smiled at her. 

“After I have the pickles.”

“Of course.”

“I miss George,” she suddenly said. “He loved me.”

“It is nice to be loved,” he agreed. 

“If this is a boy,” she said, placing her hand on her belly, “I will name him George. If it’s a girl, Georgina.”

“It is bad luck to talk of names before the child is born at Bosilke,” he told her. His Ladies had made sure he knew that much. “But not here. Here, we sacrifice to the spirits and ask them to bless the child. That is what we will do, so that no bad luck comes upon you, or your child.” He smiled at her. “I think you will not avoid that chicken soup.”

She laughed as she started crying. “I hate being pregnant,” she sniffled, “and I love it too. Hm… Chicken soup. I think I would like that, after all. Can you add honey to that soup? And maybe… pickled beets, if you have any?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Thank you.” She suddenly stared at him seriously. “At Oerestand, they say that the Bosilik are shameless barbarians, but everyone has been so kind to me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, will you be as kind and help me chop up things?” he said as they walked into the kitchen. 

“I will,” she smiled. “How?”

He started laughing. So much for trying to stop people from thinking he was nothing but a Quhjani peasant. “I will show you.” He started washing the strawberries. When he was done, he gave them to her. “Here, have some pickles,” he continued, finding a vase with small cucumbers, and opening it for her. “Bread?”

She shook her head as she took out one pickle, put a strawberry on it and ate it. 

“Yes, I see you don’t need it,” he grinned. 

She hummed. “It is good. I hope His Majesty takes back Oerestand for Augustus. I would like to go home. You should visit me, if that happens. Oerestand is beautiful.” She smiled at him after taking another bite. “I want you to give my child his or her name at the naming ceremony.”

“That honour should be His Majesty’s.”

“No, I want you. Do you have other pickles? Maybe… cabbage? Oh, I would so love to wrap these in cabbage leaves.”

Elik went back to the cupboard to see what they had. No matter how inconvenient it was that he was not a woman, he was suddenly glad he wasn’t. He had enough problems controlling his emotions as it were; who knew how difficult his female self would be in her pregnancy.


	38. Chapter 38

Vasily was not surprised that the Chancellor had decided to make His Majesty’s home their headquarters at Jedlowa. He’d made an office/bedroom out of one of the spare bedrooms of the house, and all Vasily had hoped when he first heard of it was that they hadn’t turned Lady Irina’s room into an office as well. She would be impossible. The only one capable of handling her was her brother, and he would take her side on this matter, he was certain of that. 

“They didn’t have to make me stay down all this time,” he found himself whining at Grisha. 

Grisha snorted. “Later,” he winked at him as he knocked and opened the door for him. 

He grinned. Later couldn’t come soon enough. It was bad enough that he had been told he had to wait for the Chancellor to finish his meeting with His Majesty, and thus making later even later, but they had even made him wait downstairs. Clearly someone had thought that, after five months of being away from his Husband, he would not be able to control himself. Or Grisha wouldn’t be able to control himself. Who did they think they were? Their Majesties, who were crazy for each other like mating spring hares? 

Yes, he did miss Grisha terribly, and Grisha missed him, but they wouldn’t fuck in the middle of the corridor in front of everyone. They had some self-control. Or so he thought…. 

He closed the door behind him, schooled his expression and turned to face the Chancellor, who was already seated behind a desk that matched the rest of the furniture. The room was not unlike Lady Irina’s, he realized; with a dark, wooden closet, a bed that was big enough for two, and shelves behind one of the walls with books and vases filled with flowers. So, did this mean that His Majesty had made the library into a bedroom, or that he’d made his bedroom into a library? One day, he’d find out. 

He saluted the Chancellor. He looked a little more tired than last time he’d seen him. “Major Lesnev reporting, Sir.”

“At ease. Have a seat.” 

“Thank you.” He tilted his head just so, pointing slightly at the door. “And thank you.”

The Chancellor grinned. “You’re welcome.” He looked at him with a pleased expression. “And welcome back, Major.”

“Thank you. It is good to be back.”

“How was… the Swan?”

Vasily bit back a groan. He really hated that moniker. “He was fine.”

“Really?” the Chancellor snorted. 

Vasily frowned as he gathered his thoughts. Then he took out his report book. “Here is everything,” he said as he put it on the desk. 

The Chancellor raised an eyebrow. “And… do you want to share anything that didn’t make it in the reports, by any chance?” He stared at him. “Vasya, it’s you and me now, not the Chancellor and the Major under his command.”

He sighed. It was easier to hide things from the Chancellor than from Cousin Mark. “He’s very stubborn, and can be a little… I’m not sure which is the right word. He can be cruel, but he’s not malicious, and his cruelty goes only as far as annoying people, not causing harm.” 

“You mean, he’s rude?” Mark huffed, amused.

“Maybe?” He shrugged. He really wasn’t sure. “For the most part, he’s fine.” He grinned. “He’s better trained than his dog by now.” 

Mark chuckled. “That’s treason, Vasya.”

“Then have my head,” he said, making a dismissive gesture. “You know what I mean,” he told Mark seriously. “As long as no one insults him, he’s a perfectly polite and well-mannered Imperial Consort. Perhaps even a little too polite.”

“And the nightly parties?”

Vasily grinned. 

“It is a serious matter. Do you know what some people are saying? The kindest among the critics say that he pretended to be ill and left because Ivanhof was boring. The others, that he’s spending Crown’s money on parties when everyone knows that we are still recovering from a war, and suspect that we are heading towards another. We have tried to spin things as much as possible, but I need to know more.” Mark rubbed his eyes. “Vasya, you have no idea how lucky you are, leaving with His Majesty when you left. How behind are you with reports?”

“The postal service is slow. I am behind,” Vasily told him, getting a little worried. The last reports he’d received were from almost two months before, and sent together with one of the guards escorting the Emperor to Sorain. 

Mark sighed deeply. “One thing at the time. Let’s start with the parties.”

“First of all, His Majesty only spent money from his own allowance. Count Rasoulin and I checked every expense and have been in touch with Count Yalenkov from the beginning of the journey. In fact, most of the money was actually spent not on parties but on hiring people, and helping them go to Bosilke.”

“So, maybe we can say that after he recovered from his illness, he spent his energy and money in order to bring back…”

“Engineers, ship makers, carpenters, captains, navigators and sailors, doctors, surgeons, architects, weapons makers, and painters. Oh yes, and experts on husbandry. He was really impressed by the quality of wool produced by the sheep at Aedley.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “The postal service is really slow. I’d only received reports about half of them.”

Vasily nodded. “That has been an oft-discussed topic in the last five months. Furthermore, he really wasn’t that well when we first left, and we only started having parties because he was so despondent. Wasn’t there a king in Sarajonia that was so depressed, he had hired the best singer of the whole continent because his song was the only thing that cured his melancholy?”

“Really?”

He nodded again. “He was insufferably miserable, but music helped him a lot, just like it helped king Felipe some fifty years ago. That said,” he grinned. “There were a hundred young men out of Bosilke with him. What did you expect to happen? First, they came here and discovered that the idea of marriage is completely relative and non-binding to Quhjani. Half of them had short marriages while we were here, because ‘the winter is really cold’ and ‘how can the poor women get warm without a man by their side’?” He snorted and sighed at the same time.

Mark shook his head, grinning. “I did notice that a lot of the women here are in a ‘delicate’ condition, if you can say that these she-warriors have anything delicate about them.”

“I would be curious to travel from here to Aedley in a year and see how many little blond kids I see on my way.”

Mark groaned. “You said, ‘first they came here’. What else?”

Vasily smiled, feeling fond of the Guards. “It’s funny, but secondly, they realised that they were brothers in arms. Back at Ivanhof, it wasn’t that clear to them, since they had still had ties to their previous regiments. During the journey, they realised that they are a unit, and they first felt it once they left Jedlowa. Between the singing and the partying, they have developed a sense of community, with their own distinct identity. And…” He leaned forward, trying to make clear that this was important. “There is something about all that Quhjani choral singing that His Majesty has introduced to Bosilke through the Guards.”

Mark leaned forward as well, paying close attention to him.

“I first noticed it in the men, but I thought, it’s the same as training with your unit. You learn how to fight with them, and you trust them to have your back. I didn’t think much of it. But then I saw that everywhere we have been, through the singing, the Choir has made a deep impression on people. And not just because they all look great. They made people stop and join them. At Krzydzov, Deep Port, Fladd we knew every courtier and workman in the city by the time we left. Even at Aedley, where the parties were ‘private’. When we commemorated the dead of the battle of Kiskun, we were joined by everyone working in the Duke’s estates where were staying, including the Duke. Furthermore, it is really good for morale. It’s like having a march for every occasion. There are coming home songs, and farewell songs, and leaving for battle songs and…”

“What are you saying?”

“The thing that can’t go in the report. That all that singing is creating a sense of unity and community.”

Mark started laughing. 

“No, no, hear me out. Right now, the Empire is divided between Us and Them. But He is one of Them, who became one of Us, and is now trying to make Us listen to Them, and Them to Us.” He noticed that Mark started listening seriously again, so he continued. “I think he has a point; art can build a bridge between Us and Them, and, in addition to fiscal, legal and political reforms, can strengthen the bonds between the peoples of the Empire. Singing and art alone are not the answer, but they are part of how we can create a unified Empire. Two years ago, if you’d told me that I’d be singing to the spirits of the dead I killed, I’d laugh. A month ago, that’s what I did, and it felt good. I felt at peace, because their sacrifice had led to that moment that there was no Us and Them anymore. There was just a sense of common grief and acceptance.” He sat back. “Perhaps you have to be there to understand.”

Mark frowned. “I was there, when everyone was singing Under One banner before His Majesty left for war last year. I think I can understand what you mean. I’m just thinking…. You know why His Majesty wanted to meet me before I met you?”

He shook his head. 

“He wants to promote you and move you to the Office of Secret Affairs. You’ll still be based in the Capital, but you won’t have to deal with parties and singing and everything else. After what you’ve been saying, however, I’m wondering if maybe it is best if you went to the Ministry of Internal Affairs.”

That was a surprise. He was very happy where he was, but a post in a Ministry? That would advance his career much further than his military post. 

“Think about it.”

“I will. It sounds good and appealing.” If only it had come at a different time. 

“It is,” Mark told him.

“You said that I was lucky that I left when I did. What did I miss?”

Mark rubbed his forehead as if he was in pain. “Ivanhof is a mess. You did get the report about the box with all the treacherous notes?”

“Yes, I got it when we were at Krzydzov, but there was little I could do from there. As I wrote in my reports from there, the Guards had no idea of how that could have happened. Needless to say, they all needed to find comfort from what they perceived as their failure in partying,” he smirked. “I encouraged them,” he said seriously. It had also made the Guards feel even more responsible towards their Young Lord, and he was no exception either.

“There are several families involved.” He passed a list to Vasily.

He glanced at it, and felt shocked. He had expected the Nelidovs, and the Romolovs, but not the Milkiutins nor the Kyrilovs, nor the Barianins. He gave the list back to Mark. 

“The question is, how do we do this without tearing the court apart? They are all powerful and probably thought that what they did was within their rights, as members of the oldest noble families of Bosilke. They have been supplying the Imperial family with Empresses for the last two hundred years, after all. The Nelidovs and the Romolovs are not much of a problem, but the Barianins and the Milkiutins fled the Capital soon after Ivanof’s attempted coup. At the time, they claimed they had to take care of business in their estates, but as you know, each family owns as much land as the Crown, and they could easily decide to rebel and declare their estates a separate country. A small one, but still….”

“Does His Majesty know?”

Mark gave him _the look_. The one he’d been giving him ever since he was four and Mark six, and he’d done something really stupid. 

“Sorry,” he said, as if he were still four.

“You see now how your expertise could be put to better use at the Ministry of Internal Affairs? His Majesty is very tempted to say ‘fuck them all’ and ‘kill them all’, but I dare think that, despite his words and his anger, even he doesn’t really want that.” He took a deep breath. “But he does need to punish someone.”

“Yes, I can see that. Ideally, you’d want someone to persuade the Barianins and the Milkiutins to hand one of their own to Imperial justice, accept to have a few more sent to the North, and some of their lands confiscated?”

Mark nodded with a grim smile. “And that’s why I want you there, Vasily. You won’t have to handle the Barianins personally, but the others? I know you can pull this off.”

“Yes, perhaps,” he sighed, “But… Mark, is His Majesty really going to leave His Majesty behind as Regent?”

“Yes, but how did you find out?”

Vasily gave Mark the other _look_ , the one he’d been giving Mark ever since he was four and Mark six, and Mark had acted as if Vasily was stupid, when he wasn’t. 

Mark huffed, completely unrepentant as if he were still six. “Why does this matter?”

“Did you get my report from Fladd?”

Mark nodded. 

“Then, you also know why I would much rather stay with the Special Guards and His Majesty. Mark, right now, the Guards and I are a good team, and His Majesty trusts us. Even when he suspects we are manipulating him, he trusts that we do it for his best interests, and lets us. I don’t think he would be as happy with anyone you chose as my replacement and he is very capable of making life difficult for those that annoy him.” He had made his life hell for the three days it took them to go from Lanault to Sorain, and he was fairly certain that His Majesty liked him a little. Vasily really pitied the poor creature who’d annoy him next. 

“You’re not feeling sorry for whomever will replace you, just because His Majesty will be rude to him?” Mark smirked. 

“I am, actually. He can be very annoying.” And so was Oleg, whom His Majesty had learned that he could use as a weapon. “But it is more than that. His Majesty’s enemies managed to slip those notes and steal things from him while we were next door training. I made it sound like a joke, but it was a blow to us that something like that could happen right under our noses. It was a blow to me, that I allowed everyone, myself included, to be so complacent. As a result, we have changed how we act and I dare say that we have been doing well so far. So, I would much rather stay at Ivanhof and do my job properly.”

“What do you mean exactly?”

“I mean, in the past we treated the Ladies as if they were of no import, and did not really engage with them beyond our official duties as His Majesty’s Special Guards. This time, I want to have the Guards in at all times. His Majesty trusts them, and won’t think much of it. I also want to have the Guards gather information through all means possible. No more showing discretion towards the Lords and Ladies of Ivanhof. No more giving them privacy. No, I want to let them loose in the palace.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “You are going to turn the court into an orgy hall.”

“As if it’s anything better right now. It’s so hypocritical that people berate Their Majesties for being affectionate towards each other.”

Mark raised an eyebrow and smirked. 

“You know what I mean,” Vasily grinned, but then his anger returned at how rotten everything was. “But it is hypocritical, when wherever you look, there’s someone fucking one of their slaves. Some corridors stink more than brothels. Considering all that, Their Majesties’ behaviour is the problem?” 

“Yes, because a Husband cannot treat his main Wife as a slave,” Mark said patiently. 

“And don’t you see what’s wrong with that? That it’s fine to fuck someone you own, but not someone you love?”

Mark smiled. “I do, but this is not the time to get angry, Vashenka. It is a time to wait and fix whatever damages have been caused.”

Vasily took a deep breath. “I hate it when you call me ‘Vashenka’.” He wasn’t five any more. 

“And I hate it when you get emotional.”

Vasily glared at him, but Mark only started laughing, like he always did when Vasily had one of his outbursts. “Better?” he asked him as Vasily started feeling how ridiculous it was to get angry over things they couldn’t change easily, and how Mark was right. 

“Yes, better,” he smiled. “So, to get back to our discussion, and, if it has not been clear so far, I want to stay at Ivanhof and deal with His Majesty’s security as I did these last months. And do it properly.”

“So, you do want a promotion,” Mark grinned.

“What I really want is a dog like Oleg, or two. But I wouldn’t mind a promotion, if it helped me keep His Majesty safe.”

Mark laughed. “You like him,” he said with a wicked grin. 

“Yes, but not like that, you ass.” Vasily smiled. “His Majesty is a fighter. Of course, I like him. And he…” He felt his expression soften. “He reminds me of you-know-who. Before he changed.” They had the same age, but, most of all, they were both dreamers who wanted a better, different world. 

Mark sighed. “Yes, he is a bit like him, isn’t he?” He smiled, clearly not wanting to talk about Sashenka any more than Vasily did. “I guess I’ll be the one to break the news to His Majesty about you rejecting his very generous offer?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

“Fine. I’ll break it to him gently. He was very keen on promoting you.”

“He can still do that.”

Mark nodded with a smile. “You may take the rest of the day off. Ask Major Lesnev about which room has been allocated to you. And tell him that he may also take the rest of the day off. You may not even join us for dinner, if you wish. You can relax tonight, Major.”

Vasily grinned. “Thank you.” He got up, saluted the Chancellor and almost ran out of the office. Finally, later was now. 

“Hey,” he smiled at Grisha, who was still outside the door, ostensibly guarding it. 

“Hey to you,” Grisha smiled back. 

They stared at each other. Grisha would always be the most wonderful and handsome person he’d seen in his whole life. Ah, he had missed him. “The Chancellor said that you are to show me which room has been allocated to me and,” he grinned, “that we can take the rest of the day off.”

“That’s good.” Grisha nodded to Lieutenant Decker and started walking along the corridor. “We are staying next door, at the house of Councilman Soltukof.”

“Good. What would you like to do for dinner? The Chancellor said we can do as we please, and what pleases you, pleases me. We can join the Chancellor and their Majesties, or do you want us to make our own plans?” 

“Our own plans, definitely. Would you rather have dinner with them?”

He shook his head. “There will be other occasions.” He lowered his voice. “We can be selfish tonight.”

Grisha made a satisfied noise low in his throat. “The Councilman and his wife are really hospitable. I usually have dinner with them. I am certain that if I ask her, if we can grab something to eat from the kitchen and then retire to our room, instead of joining them, she won’t mind. Would you like that?”

“If it pleases you.”

Grisha winked at him. 

“I have missed you,” he sighed. 

“So have I. You will tell me about your journey later?”

He nodded. 

“And you? Will you tell me about things back at Ivanhof?”

Grisha nodded. 

He glanced through the ajar door into the kitchen where His Majesty was entertaining Queen Adelaide over a table laden with bowls and foodstuff. He nodded to Boris and Evdokim, who were on Guard duty, smiling at them. Grisha peeked into the room as well. “Are you sure you don’t want us to have dinner with the higher-ups? You will be presented to His Majesty.”

“No,” Grisha replied immediately. “I’d rather we had dinner alone tonight.”

That’s what he also wanted. 

“So, how was it? Did you enjoy your travels?”

Vasily nodded as he picked up his travel bags. “I did. But I missed running water. Everyone stinks once you leave the Empire. You do get used to it eventually, but….” He grimaced. “Tell me there is a tub we can use in our room.”

“Yes, but we have to get water from the well and heat it ourselves. You get used to it after a day.” He smiled. 

“I don’t care if I have to get water from the river. I need a bath first. Would that be alright with you? If I bathed first?”

“Only if I can wash your back.” Grisha smiled. “I really have missed you,” he said in a low voice. 

They stared at each other again. 

“This is the Councilman’s house,” Grisha told him as soon as they were out of His Majesty’s ancestral home. “They gave me my own key,” he said as he opened the door and led him into a spacious room that was a reception and dining room at the same time. 

“I’m impressed.”

“So am I.” He smiled at the blonde girl walking down the stairs with a tray in her hands. “Hello, Katya. This is Major Lesnev.”

“Ah,” she grinned, and her eyes shone. “I’ll go tell Mother. Please, wait here.” She ran into the other room.

“You know, the more time I spend with them, the more I like them,” Grisha told him quietly. 

A moment later, Katya came out together with her mother, a tall, plump woman who had the same blonde hair and blue eyes as her daughter. “Major,” she told Grisha, nodding. “This is your Major?”

“Indeed.”

“We are happy to welcome you, Major,” she told him. “You will join us for dinner, right? We started roasting a goose in your honour when we heard that Their Majesties had arrived.”

He looked at Grisha. Grisha looked at him. 

“Thank you, that is most kind,” he started saying.

“And we really appreciate it,” Grisha continued. 

“Great, you will join us, then,” she said before either of them could say they wanted to have dinner alone. “I am certain you will want to freshen up. We have heated up the water for you.”

“I put lavender in, so it will be very refreshing,” Katya smiled, “and left you clean washcloths and new soaps.”

“We are so looking forward to having dinner with you,” they both said at the same time. 

“You must tell us all about your travels,” Katya added. 

“Thank you,” Grisha told them. “Follow me.”

“Thank you,” he nodded at them, unable to be annoyed at them after such generosity. “That was very nice of them,” he whispered at Grisha. 

“Told you, they are very friendly. And, they have such different ideas. They have a couple of servants, and Katya, who is only twelve, takes care of everything in the house together with her mother.”

“They are self-reliant. That’s what happens when you don’t have money for servants.” He winked at Grisha. He still remembered how strange and shocking it had been for him learning how to do things for himself. How would he have managed without Grisha? 

Grisha shook his head. “They do, but they prefer spending money on other things. Like education. Katya already speaks two languages, apart from Bosilik, and is quite the accomplished musician. Did you know that everyone in Jedlowa can read and write? Even the poorest people are literate, because the Council sponsors public schools.” He smiled. “At her age, I couldn’t even write my name.” His expression softened. “But then you taught me.”

He smiled back. “Ever since I met you, I wanted to be of use to you.”

They stared at each other again. Grisha suddenly pushed him. “Get moving, or your water will grow cold,” he smiled. 

He grinned, standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Yes, but where am I going? Lead the way.”

With a snort, Grisha started climbing the stairs two at the time. Vasily followed him up, along a corridor and to a room at the end of it, realising that the house had a similar lay-out to His Majesty’s. 

“There we are,” Grisha told him as he opened the door and stepped inside. 

He looked around as he put down his bags and Grisha closed the door behind them. Immediately to his left there was a big chest with a mirror on top, and then the side wall of the house where there was a table with two chairs under a large window. The corner was hidden by a large screen, and no doubt the tub was behind it. A big bed that looked extremely comfortable and was covered with a creamy blanket with grey stripes and red flowers was against the wall that divided their room from the next one. 

“Red is a good luck colour for newlyweds here,” Grisha whispered to him from behind him. 

He grinned. “Really? But we are not…” Grisha grabbed him, turned him around and kissed him deeply. Vasily closed his eyes and sighed into his husband’s mouth. How sweet it was. He felt like he had forgotten how strong and agile his husband’s tongue was and how Grisha knew how to use it. A moment later he hugged Grisha tightly and kissed him back, trying to lick every part of Grisha’s mouth he could reach. 

Laughing, Grisha let him go. “Hey.”

“Hey to you,” he grinned. 

They looked at each other until Grisha butted his head against his chest. “Your bath.” He scrunched his nose. “You stink of horse.”

He laughed. “I know.” He started taking off his clothes as Grisha also started getting undressed. “His Majesty,” he groaned. “Once he gets on a horse, he forgets to stop. And the other?” he shook his head. “He’s the same, only with ships.”

Grisha snorted. “So, you had fun?”

“Yes,” he shouted. “It was wonderful.” He grabbed Grisha again and hugged him, leaning down so his forehead could touch Grisha’s. “There were times I was so happy we were moving faster and faster and further and further, but even then, I missed you so much. I so wish…”

Grisha shook his head. “Don’t be stupid. There’s no space in the same regiment for both of us. You know it, and I know it.”

He nodded. They were both too fond of commanding and had very different ideas of how they should do it. 

“And it really annoys me,” Grisha continued, “that you will probably be promoted before I do. Fucker,” he grinned. “I’ve been dealing with the fall-out from Kosuchov’s treason for months on top of everything else, while you’ve been dancing and drinking across the West. It’s just not fair.”

“Hey. I have been protecting His Majesty all this time. I haven’t been having only fun.”

Grisha snorted, before laughing.

He continued getting undressed. “Has Kosuchov been replaced yet?”

“No. We’ve had soldiers replace the ones that went with Kosuchov, but Smith and I are in charge of half of that battalion each, until the Chancellor decides on a suitable appointment. Which won’t happen while the investigation is ongoing.”

“I see.”

“It’s a bloody mess. Kosuchov’s men have all been sent to the mines at the Bradzha Mountains, and Kosuchov still insists that he only wanted to protect His Majesty. Can you believe the nerve of that idiot?” He huffed. 

“And is His Majesty still popular?”

“Are you kidding me? People go every week and offer incense for his return at the Shrine of Ancestral Honour. When the news that he is back reaches the capital, there will be such rejoicing, you’d think it was one of your parties.”

He grinned as he finished stripping. “I heard that he’s been criticized for spending too much.”

“Yes, at Court. Not at the Capital. Any progress with that Fladd incident?”

He shook his head. “We found out who did it, at least.”

“Who?”

“A coachman who had just started having an affair with the Ambassador’s cook,” he snorted, “but he very conveniently killed himself before we could interrogate him.” He sighed. “If we didn’t always give a bit of food from His Majesty’s plate to a stray dog before sending it off to him from the kitchen…” He sighed again. “Poor dog.” He looked at Grisha. “But I’d rather have a dog dead than His Majesty any day.”

Grisha nodded, commiserating with him. Grisha knew how much he loved dogs, even when he didn’t share his love for them. 

Vasily went behind the screen where, indeed, a large copper tub was waiting for him. He noticed that the tiled floor sloped downwards and there was a small hole right next to the tub, just as at His Majesty’s house. How strange they were; they could use pipes to drain water out of their bath areas, but had no pipes for running water. 

But how hospitable they also were. He dipped one of the cloths into the really warm water, rubbed a bar of soap on it, and started scrubbing himself. “Ah, this feels good.”

Grisha joined him in the small space. A few moments later, he felt Grisha wash the dirt off him just as briskly. “Well, maybe you deserve to be promoted first for protecting His Majesty and saving his life.”

“Thank you. I agree.”

Grisha hit his backside with the wet cloth. “Ass.”

He laughed. “Well, it won’t happen, anyway. His Majesty offered me a post at the Office of Secret Affairs and the Chancellor one at the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and I turned them both down. I’d rather stay at my post and continue trying to protect His Majesty. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I never wanted you for what you could offer me.” He smiled. “Fuck, Siuta, I made you lose everything.”

“No, I gained you, and so I gained everything.”

“You….” Grisha made a very happy and satisfied noise. “If you don’t mind that you turned down a promotion, why should I?”

“Thank you, Grishka. Oh, yes, there,” he moaned as Grisha started cleaning his shoulders, his touch firm.

“You’re so tense,” he said with slight disapproval. 

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. “But this helps. Thank you.”

“Their Majesties don’t know about Fladd, right?”

He shook his head. Their Young Lord had been miserable enough already, and he’d left the decision to tell His Majesty to Mark. Who clearly hadn’t said a thing. “Only Mark does. And, you know… whoever else needs to know,” he chuckled. 

“Have you thought that it might not even be someone at Ivanhof?”

“What would be the gain of a foreign power if His Majesty died?” he asked as he washed his chest. 

“Well… His Majesty…” Grisha sighed as he started working on his back. “Ever since his husband left, he was not his usual self. Let’s leave how he treated the Ladies aside for now. He had servants whipped for stepping too loudly into his room, and he broke the arm of Symeon for bringing him the wrong tea. Symeon claimed that His Majesty didn’t mean it, and he just pushed him away when he realised the tea was not to his liking, but, fuck, that just makes it worse. You remember Symeon, right? That small, blond page. He’s like a twig, and His Majesty is… well….”

His Majesty was a giant, especially next to someone as tiny as Symeon. Vasily froze.

“You’re getting tense again, Siuta,” Grisha said, using his pet name as he rubbed his head against the small of his back. “And he kept threatening to whip everyone all the time. The Chancellor was the only one who could reason with him a little… Vasya, if he lost his husband, he could really lose it.”

And then, either they would see a coup from one of his relatives, or him renouncing the world and going off to live in the North, or staying on, but making one bad decision after the other, until their Empire crumbled. Or even, he would decide that it was worth killing them all. “So, you think we should be looking outside Bosilke?” 

“Maybe? It is an idea. Can you imagine him going off to war after losing his husband? Or rather, can you imagine him winning a war after he lost him? Or… he could really take an axe and start executing whoever he decided was his enemy himself, and we all know what happens to mad emperors. Right now, the quickest way to destabilize the Empire would be by killing His Majesty.” Grisha sighed. “I don’t know. It’s just a thought. As our mentor used to say, ‘find who gains from murder, and you have your main suspect.’ His Majesty has many enemies outside the Empire.”

He nodded. “And neither the Barianins nor the Milkiutins have any single girls right now, so that they could advance one of their own to the position of Empress.”

“There is that little Barianin girl… The daughter of Ivan, son of Kirill? I know, cadet branch and all that, but… Maybe?” Grisha snorted. “Why are we talking work?”

“Because that’s what we do in our free time?” he grinned.

“True.” 

He felt Grisha wash his legs, so he started on his arms. “Will you wash my hair, please?”

“Of course.” Grisha looked up at him from where he was kneeling. “I really like this view,” he smiled and he felt the cloth pass over his genitals. 

He shivered. “That felt good.”

“I’m glad.” Grisha stood up, put the washcloth he was using on one side, and picked up a clean one. “My turn,” he said as he handed it to Vasily, and turned around. 

As always, the sight of his husband’s back made him feel angry at the world they were living. As always, he hesitated for a second. 

As always, Grisha huffed. “It’s been fourteen years now. Nothing hurts. It’s just scars. And,” his voice softened. “If it weren’t for you, if you hadn’t stopped it when you did, they would have been much worse.”

“I know they’re just scars now,” he whispered. Scars from the caning his own father had ordered for the crime of Grisha seducing him. As if. There was no seduction, or a crime. They had fallen in love. 

“Then, get on with it. You know I can’t reach all of my back,” he said as he started cleaning himself with the last of the washcloths that had been laid out for them. 

He grinned and started washing him. They had fallen in love then, they were still in love at that moment, and would remain so for the rest of their lives. He knew it. “How right you are, Husband. Grishka Grishuka?” he asked, using his special, _special_ pet name for his husband.

“Yes, Siuta Vasiuka?” Grisha replied, using his special, _special_ pet name for him.

“I really want a dog.” He sighed. “Oleg was a total pain in the neck when he didn’t get enough exercise, but he was also so sweet and affectionate, and soft. Oh, how soft! I was so glad that His Majesty trusted me to groom him and wash him.”

“You want a dog, or Oleg?” Grisha grinned. 

“A dog like Oleg?” He laughed. “I know that, just like Voira dogs, all Tanovik dogs belong to His Majesty, so it’s not up to me to ask for one. In any case, the real decision is with you. Do you feel that you could have a dog?”

“Vasya, we had decided. No pets.”

“But…”

Grisha shook his head. “Hadn’t we decided that that was fair? I want cats, and you want dogs. So, no one gets anything, and we are spared the arguments.”

Yes, that was fair, but… He had thought about it a lot over the last two months. He could live with a cat, or two, as long as he had a dog. Or two. “Maybe we could also get cats?”

“Eh? Really?”

“Yes. I can live with a cat or two. Or more. Can you live with a dog?”

Grisha turned around to look at him. “Really?”

He nodded his head vigorously. “Yes. Please? Can we get a dog?” It had been easier not wanting one, when he didn’t have one around all the time. Oleg had reminded him how perfect dogs were. And how he wanted one so much. He hadn’t had one in years. 

Grisha shrugged and continued washing himself. “I guess I could live with a dog. But it has to be able to live with cats. No hunting dogs. Nor fighting dogs.”

“No, no. Maybe….” He liked all dogs, but he really wanted a Tanovik dog. He didn’t know what other dog he wanted. 

“Siuta,” Grisha laughed. “Stop making things hard on yourself. Just ask His Majesty for a dog like Oleg, since that is what you want. It won’t kill any cats I get, will it?”

“No, no. Tanovik dogs are very gentle. During the winter, they are kept indoors to keep children warm.”

Grisha continued laughing. “Fine, if they can live with children, they probably can live with cats.” He turned to face him, his grin wide and his expression playful. “You fell in love with Oleg during the trip, didn’t you?” He poked him on the chest. “Admit it.”

“Grishka,” he protested, laughing. “How can you say that?”

“You mentioned Oleg in each one of your letters.” Grisha poked him again. 

“Stop it.” He blocked his arm, only making Grisha attack him with his finger again. “Really.”

“Admit it.”

“Stop it.”

“No.”

They started laughing. “You are such an idiot,” Vasily told him as he picked up the jug, filled it with water and poured it over Grisha. 

He shook his head. “So are you. Really, just ask for a fucking dog and get over it.”

“Language,” he huffed as he poured more water over his husband, clearing away the last of the soap. 

“Fuck you,” he grinned. 

“You know, you swear like a sailor,” he complained. 

“And that’s the true reason why we will never serve in the same regiment. You hate it when I tell those stupid wimps under my command that they are useless little shits who can’t tell one end of a firearm from the other.”

“Yes, I do hate it. Soldiers should be nurtured.”

“You mean, coddled.” Grisha started laughing. “No, we are not getting into this argument. We have to finish getting ready because I can smell the fucking goose and it smells fucking good. Get in there, so I can do your hair.”

Vasily nodded as he sank in the tub. He could also smell the cooked bird, and he agreed, it smelled delicious. The water was pleasant, still warm enough to relax his muscles instantly. He leaned back and let his head rest on its edge. “You only swear like that to annoy me.”

“Of course. And also, when someone is a useless little shit who can’t follow simple instructions.”

“I hope you mean your soldiers,” he smiled as he closed his eyes. The smell of lavender was really soothing. 

“Of course,” Grisha snorted and his fingers started running through his hair. 

“Hm. This. Feels. So. Nice. I did miss you, you foul-mouth beast.” He reached his arms back so he could touch Grisha.

“So did I, you over-sensitive cat.”

“I’m a dog,” he drawled as he hugged his husband’s neck. 

“You’re a cat. Pretending to be aloof and calm, until someone pisses you off. Then you start glaring and hissing and puffing up.”

He laughed. “And you are… ” He opened his eyes and smiled happily at Grisha. “You are mine, and I am yours.”

Grisha nodded. “It’s no secret I love cats.” His right hand slid over Vasily’s chest and stopped over his heart. “Hey,” he whispered. 

“Hey to you,” he replied just as quietly. 

Grisha’s hand went even lower. 

He raised his body a little so he could reach up and capture Grisha’s lips in a kiss. Grisha sighed and he sighed as well, Grisha’s grip around his cock assured and knowledgeable. “Mine,” he said at the same time as Grisha. He closed his eyes, surrendering to his Grisha. Grisha, Grisha, Grisha. 

He had missed him. 

Before he could start getting fully hard, Grisha stopped his ministrations. “Eh?”

“I just realised that if you come into the water, you will then get all angry and hissy,” Grisha laughed. 

“Oh, yeah,” he snorted. Bleurgh, he would need another bath after that. He ducked his head into the water once and slowly got up. “Now…”

“Dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” Katya shouted from outside their room.

They groaned and shared a disappointed look. 

“At least it smells really delicious,” Vasily smiled as he reached for one of the towels and handed it to Grisha, before taking one for himself. 

“The Councilman’s wife is a very good cook,” he told him with an emphatic nod. 

“Maybe I can get some tips from her? Or any recipes? Was there something in particular you liked during your stay here?”

“Hm.” Grisha smiled. “Her bread is really good. And her pickles.”

“Great. I will ask her for her exact recipes.”

“Thank you.”

“Ah, it’s so nice to be back. I can’t wait till we go home. We’ll be back just in time to get everything ready for this year’s pickles. How is the garden?”

As Grisha started giving him a proper report of everything that was growing well, he let himself relax. They could be selfish that night and stop working for a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write about Vasily and his husband for weeks, and I finally managed it!!
> 
> And, now we know why Vasily expected a reward and why Oleg had to learn a new trick!


	39. Chapter 39

Roman looked at his feet. He wished he could take Stepan’s hand in his, but he knew that he was not supposed to do that in front of his husband’s Mother. And then they said the Bosilik were strict when it came to relations between main partners. They had nothing on Quhjani. 

At least they loved cleanliness. Stepan’s house, small and modest though it was, was one of the cleanest places he had ever seen in his life. There was not a speck on dirt on the wooden floor, and if he dared look up again, he’d see how the walls was startlingly white and covered in colourful rugs, while the large table on the side was covered with a white tablecloth that had been embroidered with great care. He’d also see the vases with the flowers that were in every possible surface. It was a cosy home. Or it would have been, had Stepan’s mother been a different person. 

Stepan’s Mother continued berating her son for leaving her alone for months. For such a little lady, she had a lot of energy. 

Stepan sighed beside him. “Mama,” he mumbled. 

“What? Am I lying? Am I not speaking the truth? You left me to go away…”

“With my husband,” Stepan cut her off. “Haven’t I been sending you most of my salary all these months? Why are you…” he sighed again. 

“Money is not everything, Stepan.”

“I know, Mama, I know, but…” He glanced at Roman. “You would have left with Papa if you were in my shoes.”

“Your Papa never would have left. He stayed here all his life and worked as hard as he could in order to provide for us.”

Stepan’s grandmother suddenly opened her eyes from where she was dozing on the sofa near the empty fireplace. “Anya, enough.” At the words, Stepan’s mother went quiet. “Come here, Stepashenka. You too,” she gestured towards Roman to approach her. 

They went to her and Stepan knelt in front of her. Roman did the same. 

“Did you grow up more since last time I saw you?” she grinned widely at Roman as she patted his head. 

“No, Ma’am.” She might have shrunk a little more, he thought, and she was tiny to begin with, looking even smaller in all the layers she was wrapped in. 

She grinned and gave him a few berries from the little bowl next to her. “Here. I picked them earlier.”

He liked her hands. They were so kind and experienced. Each wrinkle on them spoke of a life that had been filled with work. “Thank you.” He kissed her hand. 

She giggled like a little girl. “Save your kisses for your husband, Son,” she laughed as she gave some berries to Stepan too. “You’re still happy with your husband, Stepashenka?”

“Yes, Granny.”

“Did you hear that, Anya? Stop pestering the child.” She leaned back and closed her eyes again, a smile still on her lips. 

Stepan’s mother opened her mouth, looking like she was about to start complaining again.

“Granny is sleeping, Mama,” Stepan whispered.

“That woman,” she muttered. “She never liked me.”

“That’s not true, Mama,” Stepan told her meekly. 

Before she could reply, there was a knock, and then the door opened widely. “Ste…” Vanya started loudly, but the moment he glanced at Stepan’s grandmother, he looked contrite. “Sorry,” he mouthed. “I wanted to ask if you two want to join me for a drink or two?”

Stepan got up before Roman even had a chance to reply. “Yes.” He ran out of the house, Roman hurrying after him. “Later, Mama.”

She made a dismissive gesture. 

“You know, she really thinks you are one of the family now,” Stepan told him when they were out and the door was closed behind them. “She would never complain about me in front of a stranger.”

“And that’s good? Stepan, your mother is…”

“She’s My Mama, Roman,” he protested, cutting him off. 

Vanya hit him with his elbow and he kept his mouth shut. 

“I know she’s unfair to me, but she’s had a hard life, and has only me to support them,” Stepan continued softly. “This is not what she wanted for me, but since I will not be the person she wants me to be, what else can I do but listen to her?”

He opened his mouth and Vanya elbowed him a second time. 

“Yes, I understand,” Roman said quietly. “Hey, can we get some food too? We haven’t had a chance to eat yet.”

Stepan nodded. “The moment we were back from the bathhouse, Mama…” he sighed. 

“She does know that you are coming with us to the Capital, doesn’t she?” Vanya asked them.

“We haven’t told her, but of course she knows, that is why she is so upset,” Stepan excused her. 

Stepan was too gentle a creature to deal with that woman. “You shouldn’t make excu….,” he started saying.

Vanya hit him on the back. “It’s his Mama, Roman. If anyone blamed my Mama, I would be pissed.”

Roman felt annoyed. Just because he had not grown up with a Mama, did not mean that he did not know how Mothers ought to behave. “I’m not blaming her. I’m just saying, she’s being unfair.” 

“She’s worried,” Stepan told him soothingly. 

Vanya hit him again, even though he hadn’t meant to say anything. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have left as we did,” Roman said. 

“Oh, no. Just because I understand that she’s worried, does not mean I wanted to listen to more of her nagging,” Stepan said with a sigh. 

When would he be considered part of the family so he could complain about Stepan’s Mother? “I wonder what’s tonight’s special,” he said, since food was a safe topic. 

“Mama made us cabbage rolls,” Stepan sighed with longing. “I could smell them.”

“Should we go back, then?” Honestly, he couldn’t understand Stepan’s behaviour at all. 

“No, if we go back now, Mama will know she won. We have to have at least a drink and then come back.”

He definitely preferred Stepan away from his Mother. He couldn’t wait for the order for their departure. And to think he used to envy him for having a Mother. The relationship between them, though, was more complicated than that of Ivan and Fedot. They pretended they were not in a relationship, and maintained that they only had fun, while sneaking to see each other every night for the last seven months. He sighed. 

“Ah, Mama’s food,” Vanya smiled. “I can’t wait to get home and have Mama’s meatballs and cabbage again. Stepan, you will see how good they are. I have written to her, and she can’t wait to meet you.”

Roman nodded. “Yes, they are so good.” And he had never felt like he’d had his fill of them, since Vanya, Nadya, Danilo, and Dariya ate first and Aunt Agrafena always gave him whatever was left after they had had their plates filled to the brim. Perhaps he should get her recipe and learn how to cook them himself. 

Stepan hugged him suddenly. “Why can’t she understand that I have grown up, Roman? And why can’t I tell her that I’m all grown up now?” he sighed. “I do love her, but she’s….” he sighed again.

“Do you want me to talk to her?” he said. Vanya gave him another slap on the back, and he glared at him. 

Stepan looked up. “No. I have to do it myself. But, can you hold my hand while I do it?”

“Of course.” He smiled at Stepan. Of course, he would be there for him, for whatever Stepan wanted him to do. 

Stepan smiled back. “I love you so much.”

“Gah. By the time you finish exchanging love vows, the tavern will be closed,” Vanya protested. 

“Are you grumpy because you’re not married?” Roman asked him, grinning. 

Vanya gestured for him to fuck himself. 

“Maybe… I was thinking… Perhaps… Sana is free again?” Stepan stammered, looking away in embarrassment. 

“Yes, let’s go see how she is,” Vanya told them brightly and started walking again. 

Roman sighed again, realising where Vanya had been taking them from the start. Seriously, if that idiot cousin of his wanted to go see Sana, why did he have to pretend that he wanted them to come along? 

The tavern hadn’t changed at all in the last five months, but then again, it didn’t seem like it had changed in the last two hundred years. Roman took a deep breath of the heavy scent of beer and wood as he stepped in. He liked how taverns smelled. In general, he liked taverns, especially when they were empty, like Sana’s tavern was at that moment. Everyone was probably having dinner at their homes, except for them and a couple of old men in a corner who played cards. 

Vanya headed straight for the bar, where they could see Sana behind the counter. She looked a little changed, Roman noticed as he approached her. Kind of… prettier? And definitely a little fatter. She looked well, he thought. 

Sana smiled at them. “Well, look who’s back. What are you having?”

“Ale, what else?” Vanya grinned. “And… what’s tonight’s special? I am starving.”

“Potato pancakes, fermented cabbage, and sausage.”

“Sounds good,” Vanya nodded excitedly.

“And for you two?”

“Some juice, please,” Stepan muttered. 

So, Stepan did want his Mother's cabbage rolls, after all. 

“I can’t hear you,” Sana grinned and pinched his cheek. “Marriage hasn’t made you bolder or louder, I see.”

Stepan blushed everywhere. Roman hugged him and squeezed him reassuringly. “Some juice for me too.” If Stepan wanted cabbage rolls, then that's what he would have too. 

“Fine,” she snorted. She turned around Roman saw that she was a bit fatter around her middle. 

Vanya did as well, and he paled. “Sana?” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

He pointed towards her belly, speechless. 

“Yeah?” she asked again, laughing. “What’s your question?”

“Is that what I think it is?”

She turned towards Stepan. “I didn’t know shyness was contagious,” she snorted. “Yes, it is,” she nodded. “Petr,” she shouted towards the back where the kitchen was, “One special, and three juices.” She leaned down to get beer from one of the barrels behind her. “Do you want to ask something else?” she asked Vanya, her back still turned away from him.

“Eh…. Yes? I think…” His cousin still looked shocked. 

Sana stood up and gave him a mug. “Yes, it’s yours. No, I won’t ask anything from you. We had fun, you left, and I got stuck with this,” she shrugged. 

“You don’t sound very happy about it,” Stepan whispered. 

“It is what it is. It was a short marriage, wasn’t it? Nothing more.”

Roman glanced at Stepan. “I’d rather we finished that discussion with your Mother,” he told him quietly and Stepan nodded. 

“Don’t you dare,” Vanya shouted as he grabbed his arm. “I want witnesses.”

“To what?”

“I don’t know,” he said, frustrated. He turned towards Sana. “If you want me to do something, you… No, my Mama did not raise a coward. Sana, will you marry me?”

Petr came out that moment with a tray with three glasses in his hands. He saw them and turned back to the kitchen immediately.

“Why?” she shouted. “Just because I’m having your child? I don’t want to be married just so you feel good about yourself.”

“It’s not that,” Vanya gasped. 

She pointed towards Stepan. “Auntie raised you alone after Uncle died, didn’t she? Women don’t need men. Not here.”

“Mama would disagree,” Stepan said very quietly, trying to hide behind Roman. 

“Fine, let’s go talk to your mother,” she said, stepping from behind the counter and heading out of the tavern. “Now,” she snapped, ordering them. 

“She’s worse than Major Lesnev,” Roman whispered to Stepan as she marched them out. “Not our Captain. The other one, his husband.” 

Vanya nodded with a miserable expression. 

“Yes. She’s always been the scariest of my cousins, but now she is worse,” Stepan agreed, looking terrified of her.

“Did you say anything?” she bellowed.

“No, Cousin.”

“Good.” She hurried across the streets, until she was in front of Stepan’s house. 

“Auntie,” she shouted as she opened the door and the smell of cabbage rolls wafted out to the street. It did smell good. “Granny,” her voice changed and she ran straight towards the old woman.

“Aleksana,” Granny said, delighted as Sana knelt by her feet. “Oh, how pretty you look. Here.” She gave her some berries too. “What brings you here? Anya, Anya, the children are here. Set the table.” She glanced at Roman. “Go help Annushka, Son.”

Roman nodded and went to the kitchen. Stepan’s Mother was moving a chair across the room. “Hello, Ma’am,” he told her respectfully. “How may I help you?”

She snorted. “How, he asks. Get the good plates down from the shelf. Do I really need to tell you that?” She shook her head. “As tall as a tree, and with the mind of a bird.”

Roman smiled at her. Yes, she really treated him as one of the family; she was as rude to him as she was to Stepan. He started lowering the plates, pretending that he didn’t hear Sana in the next room screaming that she didn’t need Vanya. 

“She protests too much,” Stepan’s mother suddenly told him as she brought a basket full of fresh bread out of a cupboard. 

He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She hit him on the stomach with the back of her palm, and it hurt. She was a strong, short lady. “You’re my Son’s Husband. You will call me Mother. Or Mama. Ma’am,” she snorted. “As if I were a Lady,” she shook her head, annoyed. 

“I’m sorry, Ma’a… Mother.”

She nodded approvingly. “Put those down, and start cutting the bread. Do I have to tell you everything?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Hm.” She lifted the pot’s lid and started taking out the cabbage rolls one by one and putting them carefully on the largest of the plates. “When will you leave again?”

“I don’t know. Whenever they tell us.”

She nodded. “And you can’t stay here?” 

“Soldiers serve for life, Mother.” And Quhjan had its own army. Besides, even if he could resign so he could be with Stepan and his family at Jedlowa, what would he do? He only knew how to fight and sing. He didn’t see himself having many prospects in this town. He’d have to learn something new, and he had no idea what. At least Stepan had learned a useful trade; everyone needed blacksmiths everywhere. 

“Is he happy with you, at least?”

“Yes, Mama, I am very happy,” Stepan told her from the entrance. He ran across the kitchen and hugged her. “I had been happy here, but I’m so much happier with Roman. I’m sorry, Mama.”

She hugged him. “You’re such a silly child, Stepanka. And I’m your silly Mama. The house had been so empty without you and now you’ll leave again.” She started crying. 

“Oh, Mama,” Stepan sounded like he was about to start crying too. 

Roman handed her his handkerchief. He couldn’t understand it, but seeing them made him miss his Mother, even though he didn’t even remember her. Damn, now he too felt like crying. 

Sana and Vanya suddenly screamed from the other room. A moment later, he burst into the kitchen. “We’re getting married,” he shouted, sounding the happiest Roman had ever heard him. “Eh, what happened here? Did someone die?”

“Probably the cabbage rolls,” Sana said as she peeked in. “Can’t you smell them?”

“Shame on you, you… Disparaging my rolls when you can’t even cook,” Stepan’s mother told her as she let go of Stepan, still wiping her tears. “What kind of a house will you have? What food will you feed your child? Or your Husband? What kind of a wife will you be?”

Vanya paled. For the first time since he’d met her, Roman saw Sana look scared. 

“Maybe…” He glanced at Stepan. “Maybe you can come live with us, Mother? Vanya lives close by, and you could teach Sana and me how to cook.”

Stepan’s mother grimaced. “Really, where did you find this bird-brained bear?” she asked Stepan. “How can I leave Granny?” She shook her head. “Well, since you’re all here, make yourselves useful. Sana, help me set the table. You probably don’t even know where to put the plates. Stepan, finish taking the cabbage rolls out of the pot. You,” she nodded towards Vanya, “get the wine from the cellar. We’re celebrating. And you, keep cutting the bread.” She led Sana out to the large room that served as reception and dining room, as well as Granny’s bedroom. 

Vanya looked at him. “I don’t know if I should feel sorry for myself or for you. Your mother-in-law is a drill sergeant.”

“And so is your future wife,” Roman told him. 

“Ah, fuck,” Stepan sighed. “We are taking Mama and Granny with us, aren’t we?”

Roman nodded slowly. “Probably.”

“Maybe we can all live together,” Vanya said, grinning. 

“What?” There was Vanya’s family, that included his parents, his three siblings, their partners, their seven children, Sana, their… “Wait, I lost count. A house for all twenty of us?”

“Twenty-one,” Vanya laughed. He looked back at the room where Stepan’s Mother could be heard ordering Sana around. “Twenty-two. Why not? We can build a really big house and…”

As Vanya talked about how that could work, Roman continued slicing the bread. Imagine, Stepan’s Mother called him ‘bird-brained’. What would she call Vanya when she heard him? A house for all twenty-two of them, and clearly with more space for all the children that would come. Really, what was he thinking?


	40. Chapter 40

Nikolaj bit back a sigh of relief. They had spent hours locked in this room, discussing the details of the new treaty with Queen Adelaide, but finally, they were done. He’d thought that she would be all pliant and accepting, as she had been the day before, but she had proven as stubborn as any of his Royal Brothers, insisting on choosing just the right words that would suite them both. Why hadn’t he left this whole discussion to Mark? He was the one with the patience for such things, and the one who had contributed the most to it. 

He smiled at Queen Adelaide. “Now, if you just sign here,” he said after signing under his name in the new treaty between Oerestand and the Bosilke Empire. 

She signed without hesitation under her son’s name. 

When she put down her quill, Nikolaj took her hand again and kissed the back of her palm. “Dear Lady, I am a man of my word. I will take Oerestand for you and your son, George’s legitimate heir. Tomorrow, We will leave for the front,” he glanced at Vassily, who nodded at him, “and you and Our Most Gracious Consort will return to Our capital.”

His darling, who had been sitting perfectly quietly beside him all that time, and to whose beautiful form Nikolaj turned every time he wanted to take a break from the boring discussion, suddenly coughed. 

“Yes, Our Most Gracious and Perfect Consort?”

“We would like to say something.”

Mark and Vassily both stood up. 

“Your Majesty, I just remembered,” Mark said hastily, “I have something cooking in the oven.”

Vassily nodded wildly. “And I promised to help.” 

They saluted him and left the room, accompanied by their secretaries. His own secretary followed them out. 

Nikolaj frowned. Either they couldn’t come up with any decent excuses any more, or they had stayed at Jedlowa for too long.

Queen Adelaide curtsied. “I need to check up on Augustus,” she said and ran out of the room, followed by her secretary and one of her ladies. 

Nikolaj closed his eyes as he sighed deeply. “Darling, please don’t tell me that you want to stay by my side at the front. We agreed on this, didn’t we?” He looked at his love. “You are going back to Ivanhof, together with the Queen Mother.”

“Yes, I am going back. I promised you, and I will be dutiful to you,” he told him sadly, looking at his lap. “But Her Majesty will not be coming with me.”

“Eh? He moved his chair away from the table so that his darling could sit on him. “Please, explain.”

Elik wrapped his arms around Nikolaj’s neck and Nikolaj hugged his waist. “She must go with you. Don’t you see it? You said it yourself, the New Territory of Oerestand is loyal to her. She must be there, to keep the people loyal to you, and to fight for her crown. If she comes to Ivanhof, then she will have lost, and you will lose with her.”

Nikolaj sighed. “It won’t be safe.”

“But it will be right. If I were in her place, I would have stayed at the capital of Oerestand and fought to the end.”

“That’s not fair to her. She chose to run and save Augustus’ life.”

“And if she continues running, she will never inspire the people to fight for her. Why should they, if she is in the middle of an enemy country, while they have a king in their capital? She must come with you.”

Nikolaj thought about it. He would have preferred Adelaide safe at the Capital, but his darling had a point. “Is that why you didn’t run when Ivanof tried to take my place? You could have escaped with your guards and come to me, or hid in the Treasury and wait for the reinforcements.”

Elik nodded. “I would rather die your Empress at our home, than live without my crown.”

“And if I lost my crown? Would you then rather live as Empress at our home or join me in exile?”

His darling frowned as he took a deep breath. “How can you even say that?” he told him angrily. “As if I can live without you.”

“That is also bad luck,” Nikolaj whispered, feeling moved and amused by his darling’s outburst. 

His darling studied him. “If you are asking what I think you are, then I will reply to you,” he said seriously. “If you lost your crown, but not your life, I would join you and be by your side. And then, no matter what you said, you wouldn’t be able to make me leave you ever again. But, if anything happened to you, then I would wait a bit. I would finish Our work, or as much of it as can be done, and then I would come find you. I can’t live without you, but if I must, I will,” he sighed with a shudder. 

“Darling?” He began rubbing circles on his love’s back, trying to make them as soothing as he could. 

“I hate being dutiful on this occasion. But I will be, for you asked this of me.”

“Thank you.”

“She will join you, though,” Elik told him firmly.

“Yes, she will. You are right, she and Augustus must be with me. But I will leave them at the Governor’s house at the capital of New Oerestand. The front is not a place for a baby. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes.” Elik whined a little. “Will you leave tomorrow?”

“Yes. The troops are ready and waiting near the Capital of New Oerestand. I feel that I am already late to this party that Francis and Leopold are hosting, but,” he squeezed Elik to him, “I don’t regret it,” he smiled and kissed his cheek. “Is that really so horrible? That I am off?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you want me to bring back glory to Our Empire? And access to the sea?”

“I’d rather you and the men were safe. Or that you waited until we had better weapons.”

He grinned. “Well, we may not have the best of weapons, but we have a secret weapon. You are right; she will rally the people to her cause.” He kissed him again. Elik frowned a little. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I just had a thought. Last time, you left as the Emperor of Bosilke. Would you mind leaving as King of Quhjan this time? Or, at least let us bid you farewell in our way?”

He laughed. “Don’t tell me. You will sing to me as I leave.”

“Well, yes… There will be singing tonight also, during the feast, and we will sing tomorrow too.”

Nikolaj nodded, trying to stop himself from laughing. He had expected that. And, if he were honest, he was curious to see how the Quhjani left for war. 

Elik slid off his lap. “Then I must get everything ready and inform Ada about the change of plans. You do... whatever you need to do. Should I send the Chancellor and the Minister of War back? I don’t think they had anything in the oven.”

He nodded again, giving up on any attempt to hold his laughter back. Ah, his darling. What would he do with him? Also? Ada? How did these two become so close in one day, for Him to refer to her so informally? He was all ‘Queen Philippa this, Queen Sofia that’ at Sorain. 

How he hoped Luck would be with them. He wanted to bring glory back to Him. And design a house by the sea for them. 

&*&*

Three hours later, the smell of cooking meat was so heavy everywhere that, even if he wanted to keep working, it would be impossible. He glanced out of the window of the guest bedroom they had transformed into an office for him. “Do you think we can call an end to this meeting, and go join them?”

Vassily nodded. “Yes,” he groaned. “I feel like my nose is about to fall off and go in search of the food.”

“Are they roasting all the calves in Jedlowa?” Mark asked him.

“Who knows? Perhaps? It smells like it. Let’s end this here, Gentlemen.” As he was putting his papers in his folder, there was a knock on the door. 

“Enter.”

The other Major Lesnev opened the door and saluted them. “I have come to report that His Majesty requests your presence.”

Nikolaj snorted. “Do you hear that, Gentlemen? Our Most Perfect Consort requests Our presence. What are we waiting for? Major, please tell Our Consort that we will be there in ten minutes.”

The Major saluted them and closed the door behind him.

“Ten minutes?”

“I want to freshen up,” he grinned. As if he would go to this feast that his darling had planned in the same shirt he had been wearing for the whole day. “You may go now, if you want, but, Mark, may I have a quick word?”

Vassily saluted him and left them alone. 

“Mark, if My Darling wants to stay at his ancestral home for a few more days, let him. Ivanhof made him very unhappy. I wouldn’t blame nor begrudge him if he wanted to stay here for a while longer. But he is not to stay here while I am fighting. I want him to go home and be Our Regent there, not here.”

“Of course. I think he will be quite pleased with your new house.”

He smiled. “I so wish I could be there to see his reaction when he sees it. Oh, well…”

Mark sighed too. “I’ll let you change and get ready.” He saluted him and left him alone. 

At times like that, how well he understood his darling’s complain. Why did he have to be the Emperor? But if he hadn’t been the Emperor? What if he had been a soldier? He’d still have to leave for war, and it wouldn’t even be his decision. 

Hm… what if he’d been an architect, making houses? That might have been fun. Then he’d probably not have to go to war. He bet that his darling would have loved being a cook. Or a captain. Hm. If his darling were a captain, then he’d be the one waiting for his return back home. Hm… This could be a fun game to play one day. 

One day when all the wars were behind them. 

&*&*

He’d expected the singing to start immediately when he appeared at the meadow by the river, and he hadn’t been disappointed. He stood on attention as the entire population of Jedlowa sang something about the wide plains of the Mother Land that could have been a lullaby, so slow it was. He endured it, bemused. What a musical people the Quhjani were. 

Then there was a lot of overcooked meat and perfectly baked bread, as well as all sorts of things. It seemed like the whole of Jedlowa had spent the last few hours cooking. He wondered if his darling had cooked as well. Probably not. He really wasn’t sure if this way of bidding the troops off to war was better than the Bosilke one, but he had it to hand it to the Quhjani; they knew how to have a feast. 

He’d said that to his love, and his darling seemed pleased for a moment. Then he turned sad again. Nikolaj had nothing to make his love feel better. He knew how Elik felt, and Elik knew how he felt. They both had to do what they had to do. 

Perhaps the Bosilke way was better; he gave a speech, his consort replied, and then they got on their horses and off they went. This long feast where they pretended that everything was as it was before, was not good. 

Suddenly, Grigorief stood up. “Why are you grieving, have you not had enough?” he half-sang, half-talked. He had a surprisingly good voice. 

All the Quhjani women stood up, Lady Irina among them. “Is this a time for tears, and sorrow?” they sang. 

The men stood up, and of course included his darling and his guards. “We have had enough, and now we go without regrets.”

“It is fine and right for men to die,” they all continued. “For honour, for the Mother Land.”

“All we have is blood, and blood we give,” the men sang.

The Quhjani liked to sing of blood a lot, he thought. Nikolaj glanced at Mark, expecting him to look shocked. Mark had a thoughtful expression, though. 

As they continued singing, some of the men broke off and started dancing, while the women clapped to keep the rhythm. He was not surprised when his darling’s prized singer and his husband suddenly joined the dancers, but he was when the two Major Lesnevs also walked to the dancing area. He turned to Mark again. 

“Major Lesnev believes in the effects of Quhjani choral singing on morale,” Mark told him with a genuine smile of appreciation. “And the other Major Lesnev would never deny his husband.”

“Well,” Nikolaj smiled, “he’d better. The Major lost a lot for him. Has he given you his reply yet?”

“He is most grateful,” Mark said and stopped. 

“But?”

“But he would much rather stay at Ivanhof and continue protecting His Majesty.”

Nikolaj looked at the two Majors dancing in the Quhjani manner, their arms spread like bird wings and making short, fast steps and standing on their tip toes every now and then. “Does he now?” He leaned close to Mark and lowered his voice, even though he was certain that his darling was too absorbed in singing about death and duty to listen in. “It’s been fourteen years. It’s time he returned to Court.” He lowered his voice even further. “A position in the Office of Secret Affairs would suit him much better than baby-sitting my darling and making sure he doesn’t get drunk.” 

“He does more than that, Your Majesty,” Mark immediately defended his cousin. “And, he did make the point that the Guards are in the best position to protect His Majesty. He trusts them and is at ease in their company. Nikolaj, you are leaving your husband behind as your regent and in charge of reforms. Can you really afford to leave him unprotected?”

Nikolaj froze. 

“It’s about time He had his own official security team, don’t you think?”

“Hm… Well, you are right…” He grinned. “I just had an idea. We shall bestow on Major Lesnev the title of Count and make him part of Our Consort’s Household. Can I give my Darling a military rank so he can have an aide-de-camps and so the Major can continue being the Head of the Special Guards?”

“There’s never been an Empress-General,” Mark laughed.

“Why not? I bet Our Most Perfect Consort would look great in uniform.” The idea had merit. Uniforms were even more tight-fitting than court dress. His darling’s tight ass and strong thighs would look so…

Mark snapped his fingers and nodded upwards. 

Nikolaj grinned at how distracted he’d become just thinking of his darling’s thighs. He turned around and found his darling staring at him with a pleading expression. “Yes, Love?”  
“Elder Grigorief asks if I can start the next song. May I?”

He nodded. “Ah, they are a land of singers,” he smiled at Mark as his darling walked to the middle of the meadow and started singing about spirits. “Well?”

“There has never been an Empress-General, but he is also the King of Quhjan, and so he must have some military role.”

“Great. So, Count Lesnev can be his aide-de-camp and handle his security and the Guards.” He grinned. “I bet he will be happy to have a title again.”

“I think that what would make him really happy would be a pair of Tanovik dogs,” Mark told him, “but a title and a promotion to Head of His Majesty’s Security Team will not be rejected.”

“Really? A pair of dogs? Fine, We will grant them as well. Mark, make sure that he gets enough land. These dogs….” He shuddered, remembering the way Oleg had acted when they had stopped for the first time after Yastba. His darling too, running after the dog with several of his Guards in a game they had improvised and had no other purpose than to stop Oleg from digging. “They are great, but if they can’t run around for hours, they get destructive and dig holes.”

“I am certain that the Major can handle that.”

Nikolaj grinned. “I think you are right. The Major seems able to handle my Consort, and he is not as well-trained as Oleg.”

“Your Majesty,” Mark laughed.

“What? You think Elik is better trained than his dog? Want to bet on it?”

Mark nodded slowly. “And have someone who’s travelled with both of them be the judge.” He looked around and gestured for Major Lesnev to approach them.

“Fine, I agree. What should we bet on it?”

“I bet… if I win, you will bestow the title of Count on the other Major Lesnev. If I lose, I will give you a dozen eggs.”

“Deal. Bestowing titles costs me nothing, and I have more land than I will ever use.”

“Deal. Ah, Major,” Mark smiled once the Major had finished saluting them. “His Majesty and I were just having a discussion and we want you to be as honest as possible. Who is better trained? His Majesty, or his dog?” he asked seriously, nodding. “As honest as possible, Major,” he added for emphasis. 

The Major looked at them with shock for a moment. Then he tried not to smile. “There is no doubt, Sir. His Majesty, Sir. Oleg still digs holes no matter how much he’s been trained not to.”

“That’s definite proof that His Majesty is better trained? Maybe we should get a second opinion. Count Rasoulin?” he shouted and gestured for the man to come to their table. 

The Count appeared in front of them moments later. 

“Tell Us, who is better trained? His Majesty, or his dog?”

The Count’s surprise was even bigger than the Major’s. “Your Majesty,” he gasped. 

“Well? You have travelled with both of them, and We want your honest opinion.”

“There is no question in my mind,” he replied once he was able. “His Majesty is better trained than Oleg. Oleg still hasn’t learned not to dig holes.”

Nikolaj pretended to sigh. “Fine, you win,” he told Mark. “Thank you, Count Rasoulin, this was very helpful.”

The Count gave him a curt nod and left them. 

“Thank you, Count Lesnev, We appreciate your honesty.”

The Major looked at him with an expression of shock he had never, ever seen on his face. 

Mark nodded. “Yes, Count Lesnev, thank you.” He winked at the Major. 

“Yes, Sir, Thank you, Sir,” he saluted them loudly and ran to find his husband. 

Nikolaj laughed. “He’s still your favourite little cousin, isn’t he?”

“I would never suggest giving him titles or promoting him just on the basis that he’s my favourite little cousin,” Mark told him seriously. “He is worth this, and more.”

“Yes, I agree. Even though all nobles must serve in the army, and more than half of them do, he’s one of the few who is actually good at it.” For the most part, he tried not to think of that mess, nor of the Major as the little Vasya he’d known since he was four. No, he tried to keep everything separate and treat the Major as just the Major, and his husband as just the Other Major Lesnev, but sometimes, especially when he looked at the two of them talking quietly to each other like they did at the moment, it was not possible to keep the past and the present apart. “His brother still refuses to recant?” 

The scandal Alexander had caused when he refused to join the army and then left after what had become the first Unmentionable in Nikolaj’s life, was even greater than that of old Duke Pavel disowning his eldest for breaking his engagement to that young Barianin girl for the sake of a stable-boy from the village by their summer estate. 

Mark nodded. 

He shook his head. What an idiot Duke Pavel had been. Nikolaj was certain that, had he not renounced his eldest son, then his second son would not have decided to renounce the world and go live in the North after publishing a piece of filth that was a lot filthier than what his darling had written. 

He shuddered. His Mother had wanted Alexander dead after that, but that was the only time he actually paid attention to what she was decreeing while he was away. He couldn’t let Alexander get executed, not when he could see how Mark had been affected by the drama in his family. Not when he had such fond memories of summers spent in Mark’s estate with little Vasya carrying baby Sasha as he showed Mark and Nikolaj his favourite hiding spots that no one else knew, or, later, teaching little Sasha how to ride his first pony, while Mark and he made sure the boys didn’t hurt themselves, and Lady Ekaterina told them stories from her favourite books. He always wanted siblings, and for a while, he’d had them. 

That booklet was a stupid, filthy piece of fantasy, set in an imaginary land, with an imaginary King and an imaginary Queen Mother ruling over a court filled with vice, where Lords and Ladies had absolute power over their slaves and fucked them wherever the Queen Mother wasn’t. Although, had Alexander not gone to the North on his own, Nikolaj would have had to send him there in exile for it. It was not a real story, but the country looked a lot like Bosilke, and the king was a war-mad autocrat who had left government to the hands of a woman that represented everything that was rotten and hypocritical in that imaginary country. 

The only good thing about that booklet was how deliciously filthy it was. When a couple got together, they didn’t just kiss. They fucked, in glorious details and different positions. They shared partners, they had sex in public, they used all sorts of toys, and some liked doing things that even Mark had not dreamed of…. Fuck, was that the reason His Mother had forbidden romances where couples did more than kiss? Because of Alexander’s filthy booklet? 

“I think the only comfort one can get from this is that my uncle had died before seeing Sasha become what he became. Some comfort,” Mark snorted, looking angry, as he always got when he thought of that mess. 

Nikolaj glanced at the two Majors, still deep in discussion, their foreheads touching as they talked. When Vasya had been disinherited, people had thought the old Duke would die from anger. No one had thought it would be anger over Sasha refusing to get engaged and then married to his brother’s fiancée that would kill him, leaving Sasha a Duke with too much time and too much money in his hands. Enough time to write all the filth he wanted, and enough money to flee to the North and stay there. “And who inherits the Stanjisnki property when he dies?” 

Mark sighed. “I do, as his closest relative. And I don’t want it.” Mark looked at them for a moment. “It should be Vasya’s.”

Mark probably still felt guilty over not being able to do anything for his favourite little cousin after he’d been disowned. The only thing Mark had managed was beg Nikolaj to help him and his husband join the army earlier than usual. An easy thing for him, and the only time Mark had ever asked him for a personal favour. “Perhaps you and Our Most Precious should have a look at inheritance laws. I know he will be looking into Quhjani inheritance laws when he is back, since he wants his sister to have a seat at the Council of Elders, and he wants to find a loophole rather than force the Council to accept her.”

Mark glanced at Lady Irina. She was seated at Queen Adelaide's table and they looked to be having an animated discussion. “Is that wise?”

Nikolaj nodded slowly. “I think so. Someone needs to support the changes that will happen and Lady Irina is pro-change.”

“I see.” Mark nodded upwards. 

Nikolaj turned and saw his darling look at him. “Yes, Love?”

“The feast should end now, since you all need to rise early tomorrow to leave. Can you please rise for the next song?”

“You should have given me the text so I can sing along,” he snorted as he stood up. Mark and everyone else followed suit. 

With a smile, his darling took out a piece of paper from his pocket. 

“Ah, you truly are Our Most Clever Darling,” he smiled as he unfolded it and glanced at the text. There were a few instructions as to the melody, but he ignored them. He was good at picking up tunes he didn’t know if he listened to them for a few seconds. 

“First it’s Grigorief, because he’s the oldest, and then the other Council Members, but since you are Our King, you must also join us.”

He looked again, and realized that some lines were in black and some in purple ink. “Have you used purple when I am singing along?”

His darling nodded. 

How clever was his darling! He read it one more time. They really liked their Mother land. Perhaps there was something that was good for morale in all their choral singing, after all. “I think I am ready.”

His darling nodded, and all the Quhjani, and his darling’s Guards, put their hand on their chest over their heart. He mimicked them. 

“How beautiful is Mother land,” Grigorief started.

“Endless plains where horses roam free,” he sang first with the other Council members, and “endless meadows where flowers grow,” with everyone else. 

“There’s only joy in Mother land.”

“Only joy in living freely, only joy in dying freely for our Beautiful Mother land.”

“With justice and joy in our hearts.”

“What joy to live freely, what joy to die freely in our Mother land.”

Nikolaj shuddered. Without his darling by his side, Quhjan would have risen up in arms against him while he fought Oerestand. He was certain of it. How much they loved their freedom. He had to use it, somehow, for the good of his empire. He smiled at his darling as their voices trailed off. His darling smiled back. He turned towards Queen Adelaide, who was sitting together with her Ladies at the table next to theirs. “My Lady?”

She nodded. 

He didn’t have to raise his voice much to be heard in the quietness that followed the song. “Tomorrow, we leave to fight not just for our continued freedom, but also that of Oerestand. No war has been more just or righteous than this. And We will not forget that Quhjan stood by Our side when Luck allows to be back. This I vow.”

The Quhjani started shouting and whistling in his honour. 

“What did you just promise them?” his darling asked him curiously. 

“I have no idea, but that will keep them quiet and happy, right?”

“It will. Even if they weren’t loyal to you because you are our king, the ones truly loyal to you will now support you in return for a reward.”

“And now, we may retire for the night.” He suddenly winked. “Don’t worry, I won’t tire you so much that you won’t be able to ride tomorrow.”

“Husband,” his darling protested. “Don’t you dare be gentle. I want to feel you for days.”

His cock hardened. “Why are we still here?” 

He took Elik’s arm, Elik gave him a withering look and tried to free himself, Nikolaj ignored it, held on to his arm and started leading him back to his house. So what if Quhjani didn’t hold hands in public? He didn’t care about them. All he cared about was his darling, and since his darling wanted to feel him for days, Nikolaj would oblige him. 

&*&*

The moment they were in his Darling’s room, alone and with a closed door separating them from the Guards outside, his Darling attacked him. “Nikolaj,” he gasped as he pushed him against the door, grabbed his hands and pressed them down, and kissed him. 

Nikolaj moaned deeply in his throat. How sweet his darling was. How well and forcefully he kissed, trying to devour him with lips and tongue and teeth. Nikolaj let him, enjoying being at his mercy for a few moments, and feeling his hard cock press against Elik’s firm body. He thrust a little, seeking friction. 

“Love,” he moaned as he broke the kiss, “I want you now.”

Elik let him go with a nod and a hungry look, his whole body trembling with desire. The moment his hands were free, he grabbed his love, pressed him against him, and then turned him around. “I can’t wait,” he said as he pushed him against the door. “Untie your breeches. I’ll do mine.”

Elik shuddered at his words, pushed his ass back to rub it against Nikolaj, craned his head back and Nikolaj kissed him again, hungry for his taste. He untied his breeches, and released his cock from his undergarments. Fuck, he felt like his darling was taking his time. With both hands, he grabbed Elik’s trousers and ripped them apart. 

“Nikolaj,” Elik broke the kiss just so he could whisper into his mouth. “Take me, have me, fuck me. Love. I don’t’ care if you hurt me. I want you.”

“So you say, but you will care if I do,” he laughed as he took out the oil bottle from his pocket and poured half of it on his fingers. “Besides, I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to be pleased with me,” he smiled as he pressed two of his digits into his love. At least, since they had resumed their usual activities for the last days, Elik was back to being just tight enough, and didn’t require a very long preparation again. How he had to have him. 

Elik pushed his ass back again as Nikolaj stretched him as well and quickly as he could. “I am pleased with you,” he moaned. “Fuck me, My Love. Husband, please.”  
He added a third finger and pushed it inside his love’s flexible hole. How his love burned inside. “Don’t worry, Husband, I won’t leave you unsatisfied.”

“I know you won’t.” Elik made a cute little sound. “How I love you, My Nikolaj.”

“I love you too, My Darling. My Elik, I’m sorry, I can’t wait any more,” he said as he oiled his dick. “Ready or not…”

“Yes, please.” Elik grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled them apart for him. 

Nikolaj swallowed hard. “What a perfect slut you are,” he gasped with awe as he rubbed the head of his cock on Elik’s hole, without penetrating him, knowing how much his darling loved to be teased like that. 

Elik’s next sound was more hurt than cute. 

To him it didn’t matter; he just liked words, but his Love needed praise, not filth, he chastised himself. “You are just perfect, Darling.” He looked down, at how big the head of his cock looked next to that little hole. “Your hole looks so small next to my dick, and so pretty too, all red and waiting for me.”

“Then take it,” Elik moaned, body shuddering. “Your cock burns so hotly on my skin; I want you inside me now. Please?”

How could he resist? He pressed it against the furled opening and it surrendered to him. “Happy, Darling? You are swallowing me now. You look so good stretched around me. My big, fat cock inside you. How does it feel, Love?”

“It hurts a little, but it also feels so good to be stretched open by your dick. Just, Love… please, don’t go fast,” Elik panted. “After all these months, I’ve grown unused to you, and…”  
Nikolaj kissed the side of his neck. “And fucking for two weeks has not been enough,” he murmured against his love’s soft skin. “I’ll go as slowly as I can.”

“Thank you, My Heart. Oh, this really feels so wonderful. Even the pain feels good. You’re burning hot inside me.”

“So are you. My Most Perfect Love, you were made for me, your tight sheath is just perfect for my sword.”

Elik gasped brokenly. “Stop, stop, please, it just hurts now.” 

Nikolaj held himself still, feeling his heartbeat so loudly inside him. Really, why did he like doing things fast? Why couldn’t he stay for a few more days, at least until he could take Elik like he used to? 

“Give me a few moments.” Elik laughed as he turned as much as he could so he could face him. “I always want you so much that I forget how Big you are.” He made another cute sound and looked at him with fake innocent sadness. “Why must you leave before I can get used to you again?”

“You are getting used to me,” he grinned. “You’ve taken more than half of me already. Love, can I move?”

Elik took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, please.” 

Nikolaj continued taking his darling. Elik closed his eyes with a deep groan. “All good. Well, it still hurts, but, oh… fuck… how good it feels,” he kept moaning.

And he knew exactly what would make it feel even better. He reached around his love and grasped his hot, hard cock in his hand. It pulsed happily as he trapped it with his fist, and started stroking it, while its owner let out a deep, long moan. 

He too moaned when all of him was sheathed inside his love. “You’ve done it, Love. You’ve taken all of me.”

Elik made a pleased sound. “Stay there for a bit. I want to feel you,” he whispered. 

He kissed his earlobe. “I want to stay here for a bit. I want to feel you,” he repeated, smiling. He couldn’t help thrusting a little back and forth, drawing a delightful moan from Elik. “Or maybe I want to feel you like this.” He grinned, pulling further away and thrusting inside his love again, making him shudder. 

“This feels good too.” Elik pushed back. “More. And harder. Please.” He opened his eyes and gave him a crazy, lustful look. “I really want to feel the brand of your cock for days,” he said in a deep, low voice. “Love?”

“Love, I can’t hold back anymore. Not when you look at me like that.”

“Then don’t.”

Nikolaj pulled out almost completely, took a deep breath, and snapped his hips forward, pushing his dick fully inside his love in one quick thrust that made him scream as if he were in pain. 

“More, more,” Elik gasped when he stopped yelling. “Please?” 

Nikolaj nodded, even though Elik couldn’t see it. He pushed him against the door, continued stroking his love’s cock and thrust in and out of him as if... he didn’t know like what; he just knew that he had to take his love and sheath himself inside him and then pull out and do it all again. His heart beat wildly, his love trembled, his cock pulsed, and Nikolaj’s own dick felt like it would burn to cinders. How much he liked fucking this man. 

“My Nikolaj,” Elik suddenly screamed, and his body tensed. His hole gripped Nikolaj’s dick tightly, his body shuddered under Nikolaj’s, and his cock throbbed wildly as Elik came. 

Nikolaj bit into Elik’s neck. He felt blood fill his mouth, and his body tense, his pleasure too great for him but not so wild or violent that his love couldn’t take it. His love would take it; his love would have it; his love would support him. With one more thrust that trapped Elik between the door and his body, Nikolaj came, feeling everything go slow and bright around him as he relaxed. 

How he loved his darling. “Elik,” he whispered. 

“Nikolaj.”

“Love.”

“Love.”

“Husband. I want you so much.” He thrust a little. “Can I stay inside you until I’m hard again?”

Elik nodded. “Just don’t expect me to hold you up. I’ve melted under your sun.”

“Maybe we could move to your bed,” he chuckled. With his cock still inside his love, he turned them around and started walking them to the bed, Elik trying to nuzzle him as he took slightly trembling steps to the bed. 

Lying on the bed while still attached was a bit trickier than walking, but they managed and Elik nestled under him with a sweet and happy expression. “Husband,” he sighed. “I’m so pleased with you.”

“So am I, My Love. So am I.” He thrust a little again. “Walking with you hanging on my dick was good for me. May I start again?”

Elik laughed with delight. “Yes, please. Oh, how you please me.”

And how Elik pleased him, Nikolaj thought as he started rocking himself inside his husband again How greatly they pleased each other, he grinned. 

&*&

_immediately after that, right outside a certain happy couple’s door_

Artyom swallowed hard. “When does our shift end?” he whispered. 

Filon shrugged. “I can’t check my watch.”

“Mine is broken. Come on, no one is watching. Check.”

With a little whimper, Filon did. “In three hours.”

“Fuck.”

From behind the door, their Young Lord groaned deeply. And loudly. “Nikolaj, please. Touch me.”

“Like this?” His Majesty laughed, making their Young Lord shriek with laughter. 

Artyom wiped the sweat off his brow. 

“At least His Majesty is not asking us to report to him if we liked what we heard, like I heard he was doing back at Ivanhof when they were first married,” Filon told him soothingly. “Or telling us to comment on his performance.”

Two loud moans from the other room were heard. 

Artyom felt that he would start laughing uncontrollably from nerves. He took out his handkerchief and stuffed it in his mouth. 

Filon hit him. “Stop it.”

He took out the piece of cloth so he could speak. “I can’t help it. I know they are Their Majesties and that they are greatly pleased with each other, but they make me horny.” He glanced down, where his cock was trying its best to tear his trousers open.

Filon looked where he was looking for a moment. “Hm. Do you need a hand?”

Was Filon an idiot? “Of course not. Not while on duty.”

Filon made a disappointed little sound. 

“Really?” Artyom frowned as he studied him. 

“Well, they make me horny too. If I helped you, you could help me.”

Artyom looked at Filon’s groin. “Oh, you have it worse than me. You are leaking.”

Filon reddened from his neck to his forehead. “I can’t help it,” he sighed. 

“Guard duty was easier when we were traveling,” Artyom said quietly.

“No, not really. What are you talking about? It was quieter… erm… except for when we were having parties, or walking, or running after Oleg.” He shifted so he could adjust himself a little. 

“I would rather run after Oleg than…”

“Darling,” His Majesty shouted, sounding happily surprised. “I thought you didn’t want to move.” There were soft moans after that. Ah, they were probably kissing again. 

“Listening to this.”

“Admit it, your problem is that our shift ends in three hours, not the noise,” Filon smiled. “At least, that’s mine. I don’t mind the noise.”

“I would have preferred being able to watch as well,” Artyom admitted. 

“Tough. We now have to wait until His Majesty comes back from the war, if he comes back in time for the Winter Solstice Ball.”

Artyom nodded. “They are beautiful together. And their love is so pure.” 

“And deep,” Filon said, and snorted the next moment, realizing what he’d said. 

Artyom chuckled. 

“Did you hear that…” Filon started saying. 

The door of the room next to their opened. The Chancellor walked out in his dressing gown. He looked annoyed. 

Artyom gulped. Filon paled. They immediately took their places on either side of the door. 

The Chancellor glanced at them, and walked downstairs in a hurry.

“Shit,” Filon mumbled. 

“And to think we had avoided getting disciplined for months. That’s….” he sighed. 

“Life sucks,” Filon agreed. 

They stayed quiet after that, not wanting to risk angering the Chancellor further if he saw them speaking again. 

When the Chancellor came up the stairs again, he looked in a slightly better mood. He walked along the corridor and stopped in front of them, glancing downwards at Filon’s groin once, and making Filon redden again. Artyom would have found it funny, if the threat of discipline didn’t hang over his head. 

He studied them as they pretended to stare through him, as they were supposed to do at Guard duty. 

“At ease,” the Chancellor suddenly told them.

“But…”

He looked at them seriously. “Gentlemen, we have to admit it. No one will get any sleep before Their Majesties do, and,” he glanced down at both their groins, “it is clear that you are not really in a position to do your duties effectively at this point. So, you are relieved of duty for the rest of the night.”

Artyom felt his eyes widen with horror. “But Their Majesties….”

“The Majesties will not be disturbed by anyone.” He smiled. “You are not the only Guards in this house. I just changed the positions of the Guards downstairs, and commanded the perimeter of the house to be guarded by two teams, instead of the usual one.”

“We could go and guard from downstairs,” Filon said.

“I don’t think you are in a position to guard anyone right now.” He looked down again with a smirk, and Artyom did too. The stain on Filon’s trousers had grown. “I am willing to give you a hand, if you want to give me one,” the Chancellor said next, with an even wider smirk.

“Excuse me?”

“We are in the same predicament. Do you think you are the only one listening through walls at…”

As if commanded, their Young Lord let out a scream. “Nikolaj, yes, there. Again.”

“With pleasure. Oh, Darling, you are so hot inside,” His Majesty’s deep but loud voice answered. 

“That,” the Chancellor finished, looking like he was about to laugh. “I can see yours, but I can show you mine, if you don’t believe me.” He chuckled. “Or, you can go downstairs, and give each other a hand. It’s all the same to me. I just thought, perhaps we could all help each other, since we are stuck here. But this is up to you, not to me.”

Artyom and Filon looked at the Chancellor. He was not ugly, far from it. But he was the Chancellor. Ah, but he was handsome. With a deep breath, Artyom nodded. “I don’t think I can walk downstairs,” he said, stroking himself once and shivering with desire. “I wouldn’t mind a helping hand.”

Filon nodded slowly.

“Thank you, this is greatly appreciated.” The Chancellor gestured for them to come into his bedroom/office. 

Artyom followed him, with Filon next to him. They had fucked lords before, and they’d even have to do it while speaking in a foreign language. At least, this time they’d fuck in Bosilik.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Vasily and Grisha want their own side-story.....


	41. Chapter 41

Elik held Nikolaj tightly. “Just one more minute, My Love. Please.”

His Husband smiled at him kindly. “Yes.”

He sighed as he looked up at him. “My Love, My Heart, My Nikolaj.” He didn’t know what he wanted to tell him. 

“I promise you, Darling, I will come back as I am.”

“Thank you.” 

“No crying, Love. It is bad luck.”

Elik nodded. “I know.” He let him go, stepped back and winced. “What if I cry because my bottom hurts?” he chuckled as he went towards the door. 

Nikolaj laughed. “That’s probably good luck.”

“Remember what you must say?” Elik asked as he started opening the door.

“Yes, Love.” He kicked the door shut and kissed Elik deeply, making him moan and shiver. When he felt like he would faint from desire, Nikolaj left him, opened the door and stepped out. He started walking fast along the corridor and down the stairs. 

How swiftly he moved. Elik licked his lips and watched him go, wishing so badly that he could hold on to him. Instead, he followed him down, and walked behind him as Nikolaj left his house. Next time they would meet at Ivanhof, if Luck was with them. 

When he was out, Nikolaj turned towards him. “We wish for peace, and for peace we fight. We wish for justice, and for justice we fight,” he shouted. “We leave to bring back honour and justice.”

“We stay, waiting for your return. Bring back justice, and restore our peace,” Elik told him just as loudly.

Nikolaj smiled at him, and his smile grew even more as he saw the Guard bringing his beloved horse. What made him smile the most, though, was the sight of the first row of Quhjani horsemen waiting for him at the crossroads. 

Elik felt his heart sink. He hated wars, he hated them so much. 

Nikolaj mounted his horse, and smiled at him once more. The next moment he unsheathed and raised his sword. “Either we move forward, or we fall,” he said as loudly as he could. 

“Forward or fall,” everyone shouted. “Forward or fall.”

“I’ll come back as I am,” Nikolaj mouthed at him before going off in a gallop towards the gates, the cavalry following behind him. 

Elik watched them ride as the people of Jedlowa started singing How Beautiful is Motherland. How many were there? Row after row of their brave warriors followed his Husband out of the city. How many would come back? 

This was for the benefit of their Great Land, he told himself over and over. They needed access to the sea. Nikolaj knew it, he knew it, everyone with half a mind knew it. But at what cost. He glanced as Queen Adelaide climbed into a carriage, together with a lady-in-waiting, her baby, and two guards. How he hoped she really was the secret weapon that would make this war short.

When they were all gone, he stepped back into his house. He shook his head at Irina, and then at the Mark, and the Major, and Count Rasoulin, and all the Guards that were there. “I would like five minutes alone, please,” he finally said when he realised that everyone looked at him as if they wanted him to talk to them. “Please?”

Mark and Irina nodded, and finally he had some peace. Elik ran up to his room, locked the door behind him and lay on his bed. His bed that had become their bed for two nights. Why did Nikolaj do everything so swiftly? 

He hugged his pillow and took a deep breath. It smelled of Nikolaj and him. He chuckled. How had they managed to fit there? His bed was barely large enough for him, yet they had managed. He lay there, trying not to cry as he grinned at the memory. 

When he didn’t feel like crying anymore, he stood up and went outside. Vanya and Leonid tried their best not to look curious, so Elik smiled at them. “Tell everyone to get ready. There is no point in staying here when We have so much work to back home. We leave as soon as we can.”

Leonid and Vanya shared a concerned look. 

“What is it?” He smiled. “Please, you can speak. You are not at guard duty at Ivanhof.”

“Your Majesty,” Vanya said, “I would like to request a few days of leave if we are to depart today.”

“Why?”

“Sana and I…” He grinned. “We’re getting married. Properly. We would like to hold the Quhjani ceremony here, and then the Bosilik one when we are back at the Capital. So, I need to stay here for a few more days.”

Elik stared at him. “You were going to get married without inviting me?” Why was this the thing that had bothered him? He should be happy for Vanya. He smiled reassuringly as Vanya looked like he wanted to run away and throw up. “I’m sorry I presumed that you would want me to attend. Forgive me. Congratulations.”

“I was going to tell you,” Vanya said miserably, “but you were so busy yesterday with Official Business, and everyone knows how much you love His Majesty. How could we have disturbed you? I swear, I was going to tell you today once my shift ended. I’m sorry,” he sighed, looking even more distraught.

“You sound like you were caught cheating on His Majesty,” Mark frowned as he stepped up the corridor. “Also, you are on Guard Duty, Private. You are not supposed to talk. Or move. Or look a mess,” he told him sternly. 

“I gave him permission, Chancellor. If you are to blame someone for neglect of duty, you should blame me, and I will happily take any punishment you want to mete out.”

Mark stared at him with wide-eyed surprise for a moment. Then, he grinned. “They are Your Majesty’s Special Guards. You may command them as you see fit, despite not having their official command.”

“Thank you.”

“So, will someone fill me in?” Mark smiled as he approached them, curious as always. 

“Vanya is getting married to Sana,” Elik told him with the biggest smile he could manage. He had been invited to the short wedding, so why not this one? Did His Guards feel that he was not their friend anymore, because they were back at the Empire? 

“Congratulations, Private,” Mark told him, looking pleasantly surprised. “Who is Sana?”

“Petr’s sister? They own The Stag, the tavern four streets from here,” Vanya replied, pointing towards the direction of the tavern.

“Hm. Never been there. Well, congratulations, Private. Your Majesty, if you have finished your discussion, could I have a word?” He waited by the door of the guest bedroom he’d made into his office. 

Elik looked at Vanya. Vanya looked at him. 

“I want…” Vanya started.

“I want…” Elik said. 

Mark chortled, raised his hand, and pretended to cough. 

“You first,” Elik told him. 

“I really want to invite you at my wedding, but… you have to go back now, right?”

Elik shook his head. “No. I want to come at your wedding. Ivanhof will still be there, and I can start working from here.”

They smiled and Elik took both of Vanya’s hands in his. “I am so very happy for you. Please, let me cover the expenses of your wedding and host the reception here. Please? May I?”

“Erm…”

“Just say ‘yes’, Private,” Mark snapped. 

Vanya jumped away and saluted Elik. “Yes, Sir, Yes! But….”

Mark snorted, looking very amused. “What is it now, Private?”

“I’m not the only one getting married. If Your Majesty pays for the expenses of my wedding, that is not fair to the others. With all due respect, I cannot accept, Sir!” he said loudly, as if he were talking to his commanding officer. 

Vanya was right; it would not be fair. “Hm, I see what you mean.” He thought about it a little more. The most expensive part would be the feast, but they had enough animals to hold a second Cavalry departure, let alone a wedding reception for how many of his Guards wanted to marry. “I would be honoured to cover the expenses for all of you.” Elik smiled at Vanya again. “When you are off duty, can you please find out if the others, and their future wives or husbands, of course, would like that? Perhaps they have their own plans, and I wouldn’t want to make them change them. Thank you.”

Vanya saluted him again. 

He turned and saw Mark look at them with a strange expression. Well, since he did not look disapproving, Elik did not have to worry. “I am at your disposal, Chancellor. What may I do for you?” he asked as he stepped inside the guest bedroom. Even though Mark used it as an office, it didn’t look any different than before. He sat at the nearest chair, so that Mark could sit as well, and grimaced. It was nice that His Husband had complied to his wishes so well, but how he wished he had remembered to grab a pillow from the other chair first. 

Mark smirked as if he knew what he was thinking. 

Elik sat up straighter. “Chancellor, you asked to talk to me. If you have no need of me, I would like to go back to…” He was supposed to work hard for the Empire, wasn’t he? So, why did he really want to go back to his bed, or the kitchen and beat some dough the way he couldn’t beat his miserable thoughts into submission? “I have work to do.”

“And from where will you start working?” Mark asked him with a smile, either preferring not to discuss whatever he wanted to discuss earlier, or wanting to discuss work with him, and he was glad Elik had brought it up first. 

He sighed deeply. “I am not sure. Everything needs attention, and…” He looked towards the window. He was feeling too wretched to work. His Nikolaj had left with the Cavalry just as he had suggested, but now he felt so alone and so miserable that he had sent these men to their deaths. The needs of the many were more important than the needs of the few. He knew it as well as every other Quhjani, but how he hated…

Mark rapped his fingers on the table, drawing his attention back to him. Despite his abrupt motion, his expression was gentle. “What if we started from last night’s outstanding business?”

Elik nodded. “Yes, thank you for suggesting this. What is it?”

Mark took out a few sheets of paper with the Imperial emblem on top and put them on the edge of the desk. “Last night, His Majesty bestowed the title of Count upon Major Lesnev for his services to the Crown, but he did not write the relevant decree. He also decided to give the same title to the other Major Lesnev, but he did not write that decree either.” 

Elik dragged the chair close to the desk so he could also use it.

Mark pushed the inkpot and the quill towards him as well. 

“So, I write the usual stuff? In recognition of services rendered to the Crown,” At Mark’s nod, he started writing. “We bestow upon Vasily Lesnev, son of…”

“Pavel,” Mark told him.

“Pavel, the title of Count.”

“Now, you must add what lands you give him.”

“I don’t know what lands to give him. Or how many. Or…” He looked at Mark. “Tell me, Chancellor, which lands would you suggest for someone as loyal and capable as the Major?”

Mark opened his folder and took out a map of the Empire. Several areas were coloured red and purple. A lot of areas, actually. 

“What is that?”

“A map of the lands belonging to the Crown. Purple is for His Majesty’s personal property, and red for land that belongs to the Crown.”

“So, there is a difference,” Elik smiled. “He talks as if there isn’t.”

“Yes, there is,” Mark smiled back. “Land in purple cannot be given to others, and the revenues from its use go directly into His Majesty’s personal account. Land in red can be given in recognition to the services, and the revenues go to the Imperial Treasury. But, since whatever is in the Treasury also belongs to His Majesty and he can use it as he pleases, there is no real difference.” 

“I see. Sometimes, I find that confusing.” It was as if the Treasury of Jedlowa and his money were one and the same. He couldn’t understand. “So, Chancellor, what lands would you suggest?”

“What about Sperijgrad?” He pointed at an area that was quite close to the Capital. 

“I will trust your judgement,” he said as he continued writing. “… Count, and the lands of? Around? What best describes the donation?”

“Around and including Sperijgrad. Count Rasoulin will add a map with the limits of the specified area and send it together with the decree, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Thank you. Around and including Sperijgrad. That’s it?”

“For now.”

Elik nodded. “By command of the Most Mighty and Good Sovereign of the Bosilke Empire, Nikolaj I.” He glanced up. “Is that good?”

“You forgot your signature,” Mark grinned. “Elik, with the initials I R for Imperator Regens next to your name.”

He added that. “Thank you. That is so strange.”

“Get used to it. You will sign everything like that from now on. Well, all official business, anyway.”

He nodded, feeling overwhelmed for a moment, and determined the next. He would work hard and well, and remember that he was His Husband’s Representative, not just his wife. He put the decree aside. 

Mark put a leather folder on the table with the Bosilik emblem displaying that this was only to be used for official business. “When you have finished with the day’s decrees, you will hand them to Count Rasoulin and his staff to make copies to be distributed across the Empire, as well as copies for the Majors.”

“Oh. May I write the Major’s copy? Please?”

Mark grinned. “You may, but don’t make a habit out of it. Do you know how many decrees you might have to write in a day?”

“But, it’s for Vasily,” he said, knowing he sounded childish and not caring at all. 

Mark shook his head with a grin. “As Your Majesty wishes. When you are done, you must also write the decrees promoting Count Lesnev to your Head of Security, and aide-de-camps to Your Majesty in your role as General of the Quhjani army.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are the King of Quhjan, are you not? Aren’t you also head of the army as king of your country?”

He guessed so. “I never thought of that.” Maybe…

“No,” Mark told him sternly. “You will not use that title as an excuse for joining His Majesty at the front.”

“It was just an idea,” he said defensively. “And I did promise Him I would go back and work.”

“Good, good. Once you have written those, you then must write the decree promoting the other Major Lesnev to Count, and grant him the area of Zhalemnye forest. And then, we can move on to other business.”

Elik stared at him. “No, first, I will make copies of all the decrees for Vasily and his husband to give them to them personally, and then we will move on to other business.”

“Fine, you do that first,” Mark grinned, clearly trying hard not to laugh. 

Elik smiled at him. He reached for the next piece of paper. “May I ask a personal question? If I may?”

“You may,” Mark smirked. “I may not answer, though.”

Elik grinned. “Indeed. Tell me, are you and Vasily, I mean, Count Lesnev, related? I hadn’t realized it until now, but you look so very similar.” He didn’t know why it had taken him so long to be surprised by their similarity until then. Perhaps because the only other times he’d seen them together had been so stressful? They did look like brothers, though; how could he not have noticed?

Mark nodded. “The Count is my cousin. His mother and my father are siblings.”

“Ah.” He frowned. If they were first cousins, then surely Vasily was as noble as Mark. What had made him lose his title? Oh, how often these last years he felt like he had stepped into a theatre in the middle of a play. Everyone knew the plot and the actors but him. “But… there is no Lesnev family in the Book of Purple. Or, there wasn’t one until now.”

Mark stayed quiet. 

“Ah, this is the point where you will not answer.” He smiled. “You must be very proud of him, Chancellor. He is a very capable officer.”

“Thank you.” He smiled. “And I am. Your Majesty?”

“Yes?”

“You may call me Mark, if you wish.”

“Not before you call me Elik, Chancellor.”

Mark grinned. “Fine. Elik. I suggest, if you want to know more about Count Lesnev, you should ask him yourself.”

“Ah. Thank you.” What if he asked, and Major… no, Count Lesnev took it as an order instead of a question? Oh, he had to think about it. “And thank you for your help,” he said as he started writing. 

“It is my pleasure. And, thank you for the books.”

Oh, those! Elik felt himself blushing for a second, but then he remembered whom he was talking to. “It was His Majesty who chose them personally. You should thank him for them.”

“I already have,” he grinned. “Nikolaj was most generous,” he said, looking happy. “And, I think you might also benefit from them.”

“I?”

“Every couple can benefit from such educational material,” Mark said seriously. 

Elik felt his eyes widen with shock. Did he really believe what he’d just said?

Mark gave him a tiny smirk as he snorted. 

He ignored him as he signed the second of the decrees. He couldn’t decide who was worse when it came to trying to tease and shock him; His Husband or Mark. “If Vasily is the Head of my Security Team, who else is in his team?”

“He will appoint the ones he thinks most suitable.”

“I see.”

“And what is the difference between that and him being my aide-de-camps?” He asked as he started writing the third decree. “In the Manual of Military Etiquette, I read that an aide is responsible for his commander’s immediate security, as well as dealing with small, everyday issues. Does this mean that he will be taking over some of Count Rasoulin’s tasks as well?” He smiled. “I’m sorry that I keep asking you questions. There are so many rules in the Empire. I fear that no matter how much I read, I will never learn them all.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere,” Mark told him with kindness. “I am certain that if I were to live at Jedlowa, I would have just as many questions. For example, you really have a song for every occasion, and everyone knows all the songs?”

Elik nodded. “Our songs are how we keep rhythm when we work, how we encourage ourselves when times are tough, and how we remember the past. Each battle has its own ballad, and the Foundation of Quhjan is our longest poem. I am certain they will be writing songs for His Majesty too, if they haven’t done already.”

“Interesting. So, you don’t write histories?”

“There are a few histories of Quhjan, but most were written by foreigners. Our history is in our music. All our history. You have the Book of Purple, but we have the Foundation song, and then, we have the songs of the Twelve, and each family also has its own songs. I have started sharing what I know with Master Anton because I fear they will be lost as Quhjan becomes more and more integrated to the empire, but,” he smiled, “between our duties, it will take a lot of time before they are all written down and have their music set in scores.” 

Mark frowned slightly as he studied him. “I see,” he said, instead of whatever he wanted to say. “To answer your question, every nobleman has to join the army when they turn eighteen, but that does not mean that they actually go to the army.”

“I am sorry, I am still confused.”

“If they stay at court,” Mark continued, “they become administrators and so on, and have no real military roles. Take Count Rasoulin. He joined the army when he was eighteen, but he got an appointment at the Treasury, and from there progressed into his current position as your secretary. He has the rank of Lieutenant Colonel but he does not command anyone, and he is not the exception. Despite having a rank and getting promoted according to years of service, no courtier has an active military role, unless His Majesty also appoints them to a second post.”

“What you are saying is, the court is based on the military, but no one really serves?”

“Not if they are courtiers. Only the Ministers do, and even then…” He grinned. “I command the Reds, but apart from the Majors who report to me, I don’t know anyone in what is supposed to be my regiment,” he shrugged. 

“So, Vasily….”

“Vasily can’t command the Guards and be a courtier at the same time, unless he has a proper military role. Like aide-de-camps to a general.”

“I see.” Elik smiled as he signed the decree giving Vasily his military post. “I am glad for that. He is a very good commander and the Guards are devoted to him. They are a good team and they work well together. I don’t think they would have liked having a new captain.”

“What about you? Would you be happy with a new captain of the Guards?”

“No, not really, but if His Majesty decreed it, then I would abide it.” He smiled a little. “If he were nice, We would be nice to him.” 

“And if he weren’t?” Mark asked with a teasing smile. 

“We would still be nice, because an Empress is patient and forgiving. I learned my lesson,” he said seriously. Then he smiled again. “As a sign of Our special favour, We would give him the task of looking after Oleg. Oleg requires two to three hours of exercise and one to two hours of grooming every day. I was told also that his fur can be used as yarn, so I would ask him also to collect all the fur and make something out of it. Perhaps a blanket.”

Mark snorted. 

“And, to show him how much We really appreciate him, We would also let Oleg loose in his garden, so he could plant roses from Our gardens in the holes that Oleg would make.”

“Indeed, you would show him great favour,” Mark chuckled.

“Of course,” he smiled pleasantly. “What is Count Lesnev’s name?” And was the name of the forest area again?” 

“Grigory, son of Dmitri, and Zhalemnye.”

“Thank you.” He finished writing the decree and signed it. Then he started on the copies for Vasily and his Husband. “Count Lesnev has not been presented to Us yet. Would it be agreeable to you, if I asked them to join us for lunch? Or…,” he grinned. “Do you think they would prefer being alone again?”

“I can ask them unofficially and find out. If you do, they will not be able to say no.”

“Thank you.” He smiled as he continued copying. He did want to meet the Count, but not at the expense of the private time of the two Lesnevs. They did look like such a happy couple. But… his smile fell. This also meant that if he asked Vasily anything personal, then Vasily would have no choice but to answer him? 

He grinned. Who did he think he was to force Vasily to do anything? 

“Elik?” Mark asked him softly.

“I just realized something. It’s not important.”

“So did I.”

Elik looked up. “Yes?”

“Youth is desirous of beauty and kindness and noble deeds, and it is full of hope. And since like seeks like, so youths seek in others what they have in themselves. It’s what an ancient philosopher had written.” Mark grinned. “You and your Guards. You’re all the same age, give a take a year or two, three at the most, aren’t you? No wonder you have become friends.”

“You think so? That we are friends?” Elik felt a little ashamed at how needy for reassurance he sounded. 

“I am certain of it.”

Elik finished the last of the copies with a smile, and put them next to the ones for his secretary. “What next?”

Mark smiled. “Usually, this is where His Majesty and I go over the day’s reports.” 

“Alright.”

“You should come sit here,” he said pointing at the space next to him. 

“But you had said that only my Husband can sit next to me.”

“Indeed, but for the reports, and every other official business, you are your Husband now.”

Elik stood up and moved the chair. “Honestly, why do you Bosilik make life so confusing with all the rules that change all the time?”

“We, Bosilik, Elik of Bosilke,” Mark gently chided him, “Like knowing where we stand, and protocol and rules help us do that.”

“Yes, I can see that. But…” He smiled. “You are right, I will not argue with you. Please, help me learn the rules I don’t know. Her Grace tried her best, but I am still….”

Mark frowned suddenly. He shook his head. “Actually, can we take a break? I need to get some tea, and…”

Elik stood up. He thought things were going well, but something happened. Mark did not need tea, but time away from him. “Of course. I will go downstairs and ask them to get you some.” He looked out of the window. “It is a good day. I think I will go in the garden for a bit.”

“Thank you.” 

He nodded, picked up the decrees, put them in the folder, and walked out of the room. That had been weird, he thought as he closed the door. 

Dima was waiting outside. “Yes?”

“Major Lesnev requests an audience.”

That was such good news. He didn’t have to send for him. “Thank you.” He gave the first decrees to Dima. “Please, give these to Count Rasoulin for copying and distributing. And…” His room was a mess and his bed unmade. “Tell the Major that I will see him downstairs.”

“In the kitchen?”

He smiled. “In the garden. Thank you.”

Dima nodded and followed him down. He looked like he wanted to say something. 

“You can say it, Dima.”

“Berry dumplings. May I ask Nathalia to make some?”

He nodded. “You know what I miss? Those little almond cookies we had at Sorain.” Pity he didn't know how they made them.

“They were good,” Dima agreed. 

Vasily stood up in attention the moment he saw him enter the kitchen. His household servants just nodded at him, and he liked that. 

“At ease. Major, would you take a walk with me? Thank you.” He turned towards Maria, since Nathalia was busy kneading dough. No wonder Dima wanted sweet dumplings in addition to the savoury ones Nathalia would make for their lunch. “The Chancellor would like some tea. Can you make some and send it to him? Thank you. Major?” He walked out, the Major two steps behind him. 

He walked further and further from the house, until they reached their little orchard. He looked at the cherry trees and smiled. “Have you tried these cherries yet, Major?” He cut off a few fruits and handed them to him, before cutting some for himself. He wiped one and bit into it. The flavour was so intense, and its sweetness so delightful that he sighed with pleasure. “I’m sorry, Major, I know you want to speak to me, but I hadn’t had a chance to have cherries straight from the tree yet. They always taste better, don’t you think?”

Vasily ate one carefully, and smiled when he was done. “You are right. These are wonderful.” He looked at the tree with a strange expression for a moment, almost loving.

Elik sat down under its shade, leaning against the tree’s trunk, and gestured for Vasily to join him. 

He did, sitting under one of the apple trees. 

“Well?” he asked after Vasily just stared at the trees with a serious expression. 

“Your Majesty,” he finally started, “Last night, His Majesty decided to bestow upon me the title of Count.”

He grinned. “Congratulations, Major.” Vasily’s expression didn’t change. “Is that not good news? A title must come with a promotion, right? Or rewards? That is not good?”

“That is true, and it is indeed good news, but I must respectfully decline.”

“Excuse me? Why?”

Vasily smiled at him, making Elik think that perhaps he hadn’t realized that he and Mark were related because their expressions were so different. Mark always looked at others as if they were there for his amusement, or as things to be used. Vasily, though, even when he was serious, had an expression that was soft and kind. “I told you I am married,” he started.

Elik nodded. “Yes, last time we were here.” He smiled back. “It would be such an honour for me to meet your Husband when you have some time.”

Vasily nodded. “It would be an honour for us too. Grigory and I married when we were sixteen. We have done everything together since then.” His expression softened even further. “We joined the army together, trained together, climbed up the ranks together. I cannot accept a promotion or a title before he gets one, and if last night was my only chance of getting one, then so be it.”

Elik was surprised. “But you said it yourself. A promotion comes with good things. Why would you…?”

“Sire, if someone offered you a plate of food, but told you that your Husband can’t get any of it, would you accept it?”

“Of course not,” he replied immediately. 

Vasily smiled brightly at that. “I know I can share the rewards that come with the title with Grigori, but it is not fair that I get one while he doesn’t. We promised to be together and do everything together, Sire. While we have a choice to do so, we will do that.”

“And, does he know of this decision?”

“Of course,” Vasily told him affronted, as if Elik was a monster for daring think that he would do anything behind his husband’s back. “We talked about it all night.” Vasily smiled. “And we agreed that it is fair to both of us that I refuse. Thank you.” He studied him, and with a sigh, he started getting up. 

“Wait, wait. Unless you want to get us some more cherries?”

“That would be my pleasure,” Vasily said as he started cutting a few more. When he was done, he gave half to Elik and sat down again. 

“Thank you.” He ate one more, and then two. “If that is so, then,” he said, wiping his hands before picking up the folder, “It is a good thing that His Majesty, in his infinite wisdom, agreed to give a title to your husband as well,” he said as he handed him the folder. “I hope you will not refuse now, Major. Or, should I say Count?”

Vasily stared at him in shock. “Really?”

“Yes. These are all for you. I hope you will not refuse the posts that come with it. Please? I think the Guards would be miserable with another Captain.”

Vasily studied the decrees, and his expression became even more amazed. “Really?” he whispered, smiling softy at what he read in one of them. 

“Do you want me to sign them again?” he grinned. 

“No, no, thank you, Your Majesty.” He took them out and folded them before putting them in a coat pocket, and giving the folder back to Elik. 

Elik smiled. “I am glad you accepted your new burdens, Count, and I hope your husband will also be glad.”

“He will,” he smiled happily. “Thank you.” He looked at him as if he wanted to say something more, and then started getting up again. 

“More cherries?” Elik grinned, pretending to misunderstand his movement. “Please?”

With an indulgent smile, Vasily cut some more and shared them before sitting down. “So, does Your Majesty want to speak to me?” he asked gently.

Elik nodded. “I do, but… I now also have a question. Earlier, you looked like you wanted to say something else. Or maybe ask me something. What was it?”

“I dare not,” Vasily smiled. He nodded towards the decrees. “Especially now, after being shown such favour.”

Elik felt bad. “It is my fault,” he whispered. “I should have thought of a reward for you before His Majesty did. You have been very attentive to all my need these months, Count. I should have…” He sighed. 

“Your Majesty, please.” He smiled even more gently than usual. “You are still not used to being Your Majesty. Once you are, I am certain you will learn when and whom to reward. As for me, the journey was enough of a reward,” he grinned. “I really enjoyed traveling and seeing the sea and…” His expression turned dreamy for a moment, before he took a very deep breath. “Your Majesty, I hate asking for this, especially after His Majesty’s kindness, but…” 

He stared at him pleadingly, scaring Elik. “May I have a Tanovik dog? Please? Or two? Please?”

“A dog or two?” Elik repeated, surprised. 

Vasily nodded. “Please? Grisha says I fell in love with Oleg, and he may be right. Oleg is such a wonderful dog, and I would like one like him. Or two.”

“Oleg is wonderful, isn’t he?” Elik smiled. “But why are you asking me this?”

“Because all the Tanovik dogs in the Empire, like all the Voira dogs, belong to the Imperial family. Only His Majesty can decide if he will give one or two as a sign of his favour and…” 

“Then, of course you shall have two. A pair, I guess, right? Do you have enough space for them? And for the puppies? You’ve seen Oleg,” he laughed. That adorable creature, who needed to be around people all the time. 

Vasily nodded. “We have a garden of good size,” he said proudly. 

Oh, but Vasily would probably spend most of his time at the Barracks with the Guards or the Palace, from then on, wouldn’t he? “And, do you have someone to keep them company when you are fulfilling your duties? Oleg gets so miserable if he’s left alone for hours. What would I do without Dima to help me take care of him?”

Vasily’s expression fell. “I.. I hadn’t thought of that.” He sighed. “And if I tell Grisha that he can’t have cats because I can’t have dogs, he will be so disappointed. He showed me the cats he’s been feeding for the last few days. Three have kittens, and he really wants one or two of them. He thinks maybe the black ones so… ” He sighed even more deeply. 

Elik sighed as well. He could see the point of that; black cats would look so striking next to white dogs. Yes, that would be such a disappointm… “Wait, you could bring your dogs to play with Oleg.” Vasily stared at him, shocked again. “You saw how happy he was… oh, no, you didn’t, but at Sorain, Queen Philippa took us to the Royal Kennels to see her dogs, and then Queen Sophia brought her Mitzi, and they all played so well and happily. Oleg needs friends.” He smiled a little at the memory. “We have decided. When you serve at the Palace, your dogs will play with my dogs, and when you are at the barracks, then my dogs will play with your dogs. Also, did you see how used Oleg is to running with horses? I don’t want him to lose that skill just because he will live at Ivanhof soon.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” 

Vasily looked happier that someone could look after his dogs while he worked than after receiving his title. Elik stood up and Vasily started rising. “No, no, sit, I’m just getting more cherries. I really love them,” he said as Vasily settled down again. 

“I can understand why. They have the most wonderful flavour, rich and sweet, and they are succulent with firm flesh.” He looked at the trees with longing. “We don’t have such cherries at the Capital.”

“Would you like some?”

“Yes, please,” he said, offering his joined, open palms with a grateful smile. 

Elik dropped some fruits in them. “Wonderful. It is the right season too. Tomorrow morning, we will come and cut some branches for your garden,” he said, enjoying Vasily’s open delight and surprise at getting cuttings. “Maybe we can cut some for the gardens at Ivanhof too. Do you think the gardeners will mind?”

“Your Majesty,” Vasily smiled at him fondly, “Ivanhof is your home. You can do as you like.”

Elik sat down. “It doesn’t feel like that when I am not with His Majesty,” he sighed. “I much prefer being at the Barracks with the Guards.” 

“And they appreciate it too, Your Majesty. Although,” Vasily grinned, “They much prefer it when you are in the kitchen with them.”

Elik laughed. “Do they? Oh, I should cook them something special for their weddings, if they let me organize them. Did you hear? Vanya and some of the others are getting married,” he smiled. 

“I did hear it, and I also saw why they are in such a hurry.” He made a circular gesture over his waist.

“Oh,” Elik gasped. “Oh,” he said again, grinning at his own idiocy for not expecting that.

“Oh, indeed.” 

This time, when Vasily started getting up, Elik rose with him. “I should go see if the Chancellor is ready to continue instructing me,” he smiled. 

Vasily smiled. “I am certain he is up to the task.”

“I hope so. And I hope to see you later. If I am allowed to organize the weddings, I will need help.”

“Of course, you can count on me for anything.”

He smiled. “I know, and I am grateful for it,” he told him, trying to convey with his expression that he didn’t mean just for the wedding. “Thank you.”

“Your Majesty,” he saluted him. 

Elik nodded and went upstairs. He really hoped Mark was ready to work, because work was good. Especially if it could make people smile the way it had made Vasily smile. Next time, he really had to find the courage to tell him that he wanted them to be friends. 

&*&*&

_a little later, a little to the northwest_

Nikolaj shared a look and a grin with his Guards. He had been wondering how it would be to ride with those who had been his enemies until three years ago, but so far, the experience was good. The Quhjani had kept up with him without a problem, and, most importantly, without requesting to stop. 

Suddenly, he heard a whistle behind him. He turned his head and saw Major Kamenski, the Captain of his Jedlowa cavalry unit, gesture something to the others. “What is it?”

“Lunch.”

“We are not stopping for lunch. We will stop at Chereniski, as planned.”

Major Kamenski snorted. “Stopping for lunch. Do you hear that, men?”

Their laughter was riotous. 

Nikolaj glared at the man and galloped ahead. Moments later, he heard the Quhjani commenting on the food their darlings had packed for them. Dried fruit and cheese were very desirable items, apparently, even more than dried meat. 

He turned towards Count Nikulin, the Head of his Security Team and gestured that the Quhjani were a bit crazy. 

Count Bitoulin snorted. “Maybe Your Majesty should check your saddle bag before commenting. The left one. The other left. You too, Gentlemen,” he shouted at Nikolaj’s Guards. 

Nikolaj did, curious. He opened it, slid his hand inside and felt around. “What…” He grabbed the first thing he touched and brought it out. A linen cloth was wrapped around something soft, so he unwrapped it carefully. It was one of the thin, soft flatbreads that his darling had introduced to his kitchens, rolled tightly around shredded green things, cheese and tomatoes, those red things that were fruits but were not sweet and his darling apparently had missed while living at their home. Nikolaj himself was not sure how he felt about them. He could eat them in a stew, but on their own? 

“When did He make them? He didn’t have time to make them,” Nikolaj told Count Bitoulin. 

“No, but His Majesty gave orders for them to be prepared and put into your bag.”

“Ah,” he smiled as he bit into it. The tomato together with the cheese and the shredded fennel and cucumber was not bad. In fact, it was very refreshing meal after all these hours of riding in the sun. He turned towards Major Kamenski, waving the rolled and stuffed bread to his face. “My darling packed me cheese in bread,” he challenged him. 

“Mine sausages,” Major Kamenski said with clear envy.

“Hm… Sausages,” he sighed with jealousy. 

The Major rode his horse close to his and offered him his roll. He too had bitten into it. Nikolaj looked at it, and then at the roll in his hand. His darling had made his, well, ordered to have it made. But… sausages. “Is it the type with the spices and the garlic?”

“Yes.” He looked at Nikolaj’s roll. “What cheese is it?”

“Yellow. Semi-hard and spicy.”

They looked at each other, nodded, and exchanged the food. Nikolaj bit into it. “Oh, delicious,” he said as he chewed, nodding in appreciation. The Major's wife had also used shredded cucumber and its freshness contrasted with the spiciness of the sausage so well. 

“Tasty,” the Major replied with a nod of approval as he too started eating. 

They smiled at each other as they continued riding forward. Yes, the experience so far was definitely good.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is set in the same day as the previous chapter. I had to break it up because it was such a ridiculously long chapter, with SO MANY TALKS! :)  
> Also, even though I am only 6 chapters ahead, I thought of posting this today, because I keep fiddling it with it, instead of moving ahead with the writing of the story....

Elik checked that everyone had finished eating and did not look like they wanted seconds. “Should we have tea and dessert now?” He gestured to Maria and she started gathering the plates. 

Vasily glanced at his husband. “How are Quhjani weddings?” Vasily asked him.

His Husband glanced at Vasily. “Do you exchange vows?” he asked Elik. 

Mark smiled. “I think that means that the Guards will accept your generous offer to pay for their weddings.”

“Oh, no,” Vasily said. He shared a glance with his husband. “We don’t know.”

“We are just curious,” his husband continued. 

Elik smiled. Throughout lunch, they spoke as if they were one person. Occasionally, they would use first person singular, but never when they clearly shared a view. “I don’t know how they compare to Bosilik ones. I’ve only been to mine, and compared to that, Quhjani weddings are very, very simple.”

Mark frowned. “You weren’t invited to any weddings since you were crowned?” He asked him seriously. 

He took a deep breath and glanced at the cherries hanging above them, and the blue sky peeking through the leaves. An Empress should be forgiving and patient and should not complain that people snubbed him at court. “I guess, they thought it would bring bad luck? I mean, an Empress is there to give heirs to Her Emperor and I’m…” An Empress should not call himself failure either. 

He started feeling sick. He didn’t want to go back to Ivanhof, he realized. Not if things had been as he had left them. Since they were sailing so fast and had so much work, Nikolaj hadn’t even told him how things were with the Office of Secret Affairs and if they had found those who had been harassing him. 

He glanced at Irina, Mark, Count Rasoulin, and the Lesnevs. “May we talk work over tea? Just a bit?”

Irina stood up immediately. “Later, brother.”

“Sorry,” he told her. 

She touched him on the arm. “That’s fine. I was getting a bit bored,” she whispered to him with a smile, glancing back for a moment. 

“Thank you.”

Count Rasoulin, Vasily and his husband stood up immediately after Irina. “Later, Your Majesty.”

He nodded and waited until they had were close to the house. “Mark, you know about the drawings, right?”

He nodded, raised his hand and snapped his fingers. When nothing happened, he put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, impressing Elik.

“I didn’t think you would know how to do that.”

“It’s quicker than shouting names. Especially when I need to call these two,” he smiled. “I mean, Major and Major? Count and Count? Lesnev and Lesnev? It’s confusing. Yes, I am talking about you,” he grinned. “Have a seat, it’s work for you too.”

Elik looked at them. He could understand that maybe he should have asked Vasily to stay, but why was his husband there? Wasn’t he commanding one of the battalions of the Reds? 

“With all due respect, Sir, when you call us for work, you call us by our titles,” Vasily’s husband said as he sat next to Mark.

“And when it’s not for work, we answer to our names,” Vasily added, taking a seat next to his husband. He suddenly turned towards Elik. “Your Majesty, though, can call us however His Majesty wants. Including by our names, even when it is for work.”

“Thank you.” He studied them for a moment. The two cousins were so similar; how could he not have noticed their resemblance? And Vasily and his husband were a truly striking couple. He had to ask someone to paint them. 

“I can see you have questions,” Mark told him. “As you know, one of my duties as Chancellor is heading the Office of Intelligence, and these two are two of my best analysts. Technically, Count Lesnev,” he gestured towards Vasily, “has not been under my command in four years, however…” he smiled, “he’s too good an analyst to let him be just an officer, and His Majesty has been gracious enough to let him continue working for me – unofficially.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Furthermore, and that’s also off-the-record,” Mark grinned, “and no one will ever admit it ever, Vasily and Grigori share everything. These two minds together think much better than separately.”

“Hey,” Vasily told Mark. “Off-the-record,” he glanced at his husband.

“We think well on our own as well,” he finished the phrase. 

Mark nodded. “Yes, you do. Both of you. Count,” he told Grigori, “Can you please give the full, unofficial report to His Majesty regarding the Affair of the Notes?”

Both he and Grigori stared at Mark and he nodded. “It’s full, because you need to know who your enemies are, and it’s unofficial because when Your Majesty finds out officially, heads will have to fall.”

Elik nodded, wondering if Mark had meant that figuratively or not. By the time Grigori had finished with the report, Elik had realized that he meant that literally. “Why do they hate me so?” He’d tried so hard to be nice to everyone. He’d even memorized all their names and titles so as not to accidentally insult them by addressing them in the wrong manner. Why did they hate him so? 

The three shared a look.

“Your Majesty is different from them,” Vasily said quietly. “It’s easy to hate what is different and you don’t understand.”

“Much easier than making an effort to accept it,” Grigori told him. 

“The dragon was right,” he muttered. 

“Who?” Mark asked as Vasily snorted.

“King Charles’ brother. He was really annoying when we first met, and we called him dragon so often that the name stuck. I'm sorry it is a bad habit. His name is Alexandre, I must use that. But he’s a very insightful person, really. Very lonely too. I hope he got together with someone.”

“We’ll find out,” Vasily smiled, clearly amused. 

Mark frowned again. 

“We spent several hours in Sorain identifying possible suitors for His Highness, and then introduced them to him in the hope that one would be a suitable match.” Vasily’s eyes shone. 

Elik nodded. “Yes, you did. Thank you so much for spending all that time for his sake, and because I asked you. He really is a good person and so worthy of love, ah….” He sighed, and Vasily nodded with a soft smile. 

“So, to return to your earlier comment, before we hear the ‘love is pure and beautiful’ lecture,” Mark said, making Vasily blush. “What, is it a lie? Wouldn’t you start on it?”

Vasily got redder. 

“I also think that love is pure and beautiful,” Elik said quietly, before sighing again. Ah, his Love must have been closer to Chereniski than Jedlowa at that point. Had he remembered to eat? Why did he never pack lunch when he rode? He turned to face Vasily, reached across the table, and took Vasily’s hand with his left hand, since Vasily was across him, but to his left. “Vasily, if you are my friend, will you share your lecture with me?”

Vasily stared at him. “Your Majesty, if you are my friend, I will,” he said solemnly.

“I am, I want nothing more than for us to be friends. And you are mine?”

Vasily nodded and they looked at each other, smiling. “Then, you must also be my friend,” Elik said turning to Grigori and grabbing his hand with his right hand. “Please?”

Grigori smiled. “Of course.”

“And you will call me by my name, both of you?”

They nodded after another shared glance. 

“Ah, youth,” Mark grinned. “So, now that we are all friends here, should we go back to…” At a look from both Vasily and Grigori, Mark nodded. “Yes, of course. Your Majesty, we three have a rule. When we are the Chancellor and Major and Major, we do not behave with such informality. We are commander and subordinates. But when we are not the Chancellor and Major and Major, then we are us, and we are Cousin Mark, Cousin Vasya, and Cousin Grisha.”

“You see, Major Lesnev cannot be Mark’s cousin, Your Majesty,” Vasily told him. 

“Why?”

Vasily and Grigori shared another look. 

Elik felt bad about his question. “You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to. I’m sorry for asking.”

Mark stood up. “I need to get that tea,” he told them as he went back to the house. 

Grigori nodded at Vasily and they looked at each other again. Vasily took Grigori’s hand and smiled at him. “My family disinherited me for loving whom they thought was the wrong person for me, so, according to the law, I am no longer related to Mark. But when there are no titles or ranks or surnames, he is still my big cousin, and the only one who supported us.” He smiled at Grigori again. 

“If it weren’t for Mark, I don’t know what would have become of us,” Grigori said as he smiled back at Vasily. “Thanks to him, though, we joined the army. We got work, and five years ago,” his smile grew, “We even bought our own piece of land.”

“And we built our house,” Vasily said happily. 

“It’s small, but it has a big garden,” Grigori nodded. 

“With an orchard and a vegetable garden.”

“And flowers. As many as we could have.”

Elik studied them. They really looked so happy. Truly, who needed gold and palaces when one could be with their one true love? “I would be happy with just a bed and Nikolaj,” he whispered.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Grigori said. “You should also have a roof and some walls.”

Vasily nodded. “And blankets. Or, you know, dogs. Ah, but Tanovik dogs are the best. They are so soft,” he sighed.

Elik nodded. “Have you seen Oleg, Grigori?”

“Yes.”

“But you haven’t petted him yet,” Vasily smiled. “May we, Elik?”

He nodded, grinning. “After we finish working, I’ll go bring him. You will see, he is such a good boy.”

Grigori did not look convinced. 

“To go back to work, but you know, informally, with you being you and me being Elik, do you think it will be safe for me to go back? Or should I expect more notes?”

They shared a look and glanced up. 

“No place is really safe for a crowned head,” Mark said from behind him. He put the tray with the tea set and the bowls with the sweet dumplings down and sat again. “But…”

“Vasya,” Grigori told him. 

Mark gave him a grateful look. “Vasya will do his best to keep you safe, and Grisha to find whoever is threatening you.”

“Thank you.”

“And if anything like that happens again, you will not let it slide. You will come to me,” Mark told him seriously, glancing Vasily and Grigory, “we will assess the situation, and then we will take care of things.”

“That was stupid of me,” he sighed.

“And if you were my Husband, I would have punished you for it,” Mark told him with a smirk.

Elik reddened. He knew exactly how Mark would have punished him, had he been his husband, and it was not something he wanted discussed.

“But you are not, so what you think does not matter,” Vasily told Mark firmly. 

Elik gave him a grateful look. 

“Even among friends I can’t offer my opinion?” Mark continued, his smirk getting bigger.

“That is not the issue here,” Grigori answered him. “The issue, in fact, is two issues: Elik’s safety, and his control of the Court.” He glanced at Vasily and Vasily nodded, so he continued. “We will deal more with the security of Ivanhof when we are there. We have already constructed corridors that will lead you straight to the Guards Barracks from two different locations in the palace in the case of emergency.”

“The Barracks will be your safehouse from now on. Not the Treasury,” Vasily said. 

Mark smiled at the two indulgently. 

“But we also thought that,” Vasily continued.

“Before you arrive at Ivanhof, you should already send a message to the Court,” Grigori finished the sentence. 

Mark frowned. “Explain.”

Vasily looked at him. “May I speak completely frankly and honestly?”

Elik nodded. 

“Elik, Your Majesty, you have been developing a bad habit recently and, as your friend and member of your Household staff, I must tell you this. You see enemies everywhere,” he told him seriously.

Elik froze. He did do that. Didn’t he think that ALL his Ladies were against him, except for Lady Ekaterina? And he took everything as a slight, even when it wasn’t. How he had thought for weeks that King Henrik and Queen Amalia were snubbing him, when all they had wanted was to give him the freedom he wanted to go around as he pleased, unencumbered by court duties, even as a NOT-guest of honour. 

Vasily’s expression softened. “Truly, there is no complete safety for someone like you. What happened with General Ivanof should be proof enough. Truly, you have enemies. Yet, your behaviour recently shows that you are also prone to ascribing malicious motives to anyone. Even this morning, with Vanya. Your first reaction was not to congratulate him, but to accuse him of marrying without inviting you.”

Elik felt himself frown. Vasily was not even there when that happened, and Vanya had finished duty while they were in the middle of lunch. How had Vasily found that out? It was so strange to realise that the Guards were spying on him the way they did on everyone else and reported his behaviour to Vasily. 

He paled, as he remembered Mark’s words from the day after the Winter Solstice Ball. He turned to face Mark. “It’s him, isn’t it?” he asked quietly, glancing at Vasily for a moment. “The one who’d put the wrong type of mushroom in my soup if you ordered it.”

Vasily looked at him hurt and disappointed at the same time. Grigori squeezed Vasily’s hand, and his look at Elik was just as disappointed. 

Mark just stared at him blankly. “You realize that I could never reveal which one of my agents would have had such a duty, even if you ordered me with an Imperial decree?” He sighed. “I think Vasily is right. You do see enemies everywhere, even among your friends. That is more than a bad habit, Elik. If left unchecked, it could lead to chaos.”

“And you will lose your friends,” Vasily added, “either because they will turn away from you, or because you will kill them.”

Elik shivered. He was not like that, and he did not want to become like that. He considered his behaviour over the last year, and his thoughts. What had he been doing? And how could he change it? He didn’t have many friends to begin with. “I don’t want to lose my friends. So, what do I do now?”

“Trust in the people around you,” Mark told him. “I told you that six months ago. If you were unworthy of being Nikolaj’s Husband, you wouldn’t be here now.” He looked exasperated. “But since you are my best friend’s most precious and worthy husband, and my friend too, Ekaterina and I will do anything we can to help you, while my staff will do everything to protect you. Vasily, his team, and the Guards travelled across the continent to do that. All hundred of them. Do you really think they did it because they were ordered? Nikolaj only goes around with a security team of ten, and his Head of Security usually stays behind at Ivanhof, trusting that everyone else can do their job.”

Vasily nodded. “We all came with you because we wanted to,” he said simply. “If we hadn’t wanted to, the Guards would have drawn lots to see which ten would have the joy and privilege to escort you, and I would have stayed at Ivanhof, working with Grisha as usual.”

Elik felt sick. He really was…

“Do you need some tea? Or…” Vasily asked him very softly as he pushed a cup towards him.

He sighed. “I have been so horrible. What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“I told you. Trust in us,” Mark said. “We are your friends. Relax a little, and let us help you.”

Elik nodded slowly.

“But…” Mark frowned. “I am certain this was not what we were talking about. Vasily, Grisha, you had started saying something?”

“Yes,” Grigori said, looking at him. “That, once you have separated your friends,” he looked around the table, “from those who can become your friends, and those who can be cowered to submission, you must be harsh to your enemies. That you are now Regent sends a powerful message that you have His Majesty’s favour. That might make some of the Courtiers who thought you are…”

“You can say it,” Elik snorted. “What is this time? His whore? His peasant? Both? Something else?”

Grigori nodded. “Yes, those things,” he said, looking embarrassed. “It can make them realise the error of their ways. But the older families, families like those of…” he glanced at Vasily and Mark. “Such families, might need other measures of realizing that you are not to be trifled with.”

“Lady Anna Semyonova,” Vasily said unhappily. 

Mark gasped, but his expression showed that he understood what he didn’t. 

“What about her?”

“She is the one who was bribed to steal the draft of the Unmentionable from your study,” Mark said. “She confessed soon after His Majesty left for Valentin. I was hoping to leave the issue of her punishment until we were back,” he said, turning slightly towards Vasily and Grigori. He didn’t look too happy about having to deal with it there. 

“We think it might be better if this was dealt with beforehand,” Vasily said. “So that everyone will know that Our Regent’s power extends from one end of the Empire to the other, just like His Majesty’s.” His unhappiness at what he was suggesting grew, judging by the way he looked. 

“And with severity,” Grigori said with a remorseful expression. “So that they know that Our Regent is truly a Bosilik worthy of his Honoured Ancestors.”

“What do you want?” Mark asked.

“To handle it in the Old Way,” Vasily told him with a deep sigh. “Their corpses lining the avenue from the ruins of their palace to the Shrine of Ancestral Honour.”

“There hasn’t been such a punishment in a hundred years,” Mark said tiredly. 

How could they be so ruthless when they clearly did not like the idea? He couldn’t understand. Oh, how simple his life had been before the Empire. They never had to discuss such matters at the Council of the Twelve. Before the War with the Emperor, the most serious matters they had discussed were hiring more teachers, making sure they had extra food supplies for the winter, and how to avoid war with all their neighours and make their army better. 

He looked at the three seated across him, and how they looked miserable, yet determined to go ahead with that plan. He couldn’t be like them. “I refuse to be that person,” Elik told them. “The Old Way means that you will also kill the innocent together with the guilty, and all their slaves too. No.”

Mark smiled for a second. “At least you have been reading on our history most diligently.”

He nodded. “I can see what message this would send, but also that it would make me look like someone who overreacts.” He felt sick at his thoughts. “What if We condemned Lady Anna for treason? She did steal from Us, and worked together with a traitor.” He shivered. She was just a silly child who preferred playing to being his maid-of-honour and had cute dimples when she laughed.

“It has to be the whole punishment,” he finally said, accepting that he had to do it, but hating the idea even more as he spoke. “And since her family knew but didn’t speak…” What were the expressions he’d read when he was looking up the laws and punishments for treason? Wagging tongues for starting rumours and conspiracies and… “Cut off their useless tongues, and send them to the North.” 

“That would send a better message. Our law-abiding and just Regent punishing the traitors with the harshness they deserve.” Mark sighed. “We can let the rumour circulate that I wanted the Old Way, but our Regent was merciful. I hate being the bad guy,” he whined.

Vasily and Grigori sighed. 

He looked at Mark. “I don’t want you to be the bad guy, just to make me look good. What if… we sent a decree with her punishment, together with a second one, commuting her sentence from death to … something else. The second one would only be presented at the day of the execution? Wouldn’t that make Us look merciful?”

“Yes, that could also work. To what would you commute her sentence? Cutting off her hand, since she stole with it?”

Elik stared at Mark, who nodded miserably. 

He nodded as well. 

“Maybe her ears too,” Mark continued, “because she listened to the Ladies. She has to be punished more severely than the rest of her family.”

“She’s a child,” he sniffled.

“It’s either that or cutting off her head and throwing her body to the dogs,” Mark reminded him.

“Fine. That too.” He felt like crying. That Vasily looked like he wanted to give him a hug but couldn’t made everything so much worse. Why couldn’t anyone give him a hug? He needed one so badly. 

“You are not a child, Elik,” Mark snorted.

“But this is so horrible. We’re talking about destroying a child’s life, do you understand?” he glared at Mark, trying to hold back his tears. 

“We are talking about how to send a message to your enemies that they cannot cross you anymore.”

“I still think it is cruel. Alexandre had thought that maybe if I figured out how to make me appear more like a nobleman you understand, maybe that would make them realise that I am not that different from them, and they would stop opposing me. I know they don't like me, but why can't they just respect me?”

Grigori looked at him. “These are again two things. Lady Anna must be punished for her treason, and we must use her punishment to send a message to the Court that you are to be feared. What His Highness, Duke Alexandre, suggests, though, can be used to make the rest of the Court realise that you are not that different from them.”

“Yes, they would have accepted any woman with the surname Barianin as Empress,” Mark snorted, “but a Quhjani Elder? That’s not a title they understand.”

“Why does it matter so much to them if I am noble or not?” Elik sighed. 

“Because they’re idiots,” Mark muttered grimly. “They see titles, rather than people.”

Vasily nodded. 

If that were so, then he would never be accepted by his whole Court, and his Court would remain broken. “What makes a noble, then? What are the measures of nobility?” Elik asked them seriously. 

“You either are, or you aren’t,” Mark said simply. 

“You are loyal to the Crown, and you are rewarded with a title and lands and slaves. That makes you noble, and the further in the past your title was given to you, the more venerable your family is,” Vasily smirked. 

“Why, do you mind, Count?” Mark asked with a smirk. 

Vasily and Grigori shared a look. “No,” they said at the same time. “But it is arbitrary,” Grigori said. 

“And should not make anyone feel better than others. Just wealthier and luckier,” Vasily added. 

“Humbler too, because, unlike your Honoured Ancestor who deserved the title because of merit, you are where you are because of luck,” Grisha told them. 

“More responsible too, because you carry the weight of the deeds and the expectations of your Honoured Ancestors, and must live up to them,” Vasily said with a nod. 

Mark smiled, obviously having heard this before. He seemed to agree with them, which surprised Elik. Mark usually looked so smug. 

“If these are the measures you use, Quhjani nobility is more exclusive than Bosilik, then. Only the members of the Twelve Families of the Founders are noble. We both own lands, and have people working for us. Why am I then a peasant, and you a duke in the eyes of the Court?” he asked Mark. “Is it your ancestry? You got your dukedom in the reign of Emperor Ivan II. My family and the other eleven founded Quhjan at the time of your king Rurik. We are the oldest of the boring old nobles there are in all of the Empire by that criterion. Is it the lack of formal title, then? How stupid.”

They all nodded. 

“Why don’t you examine your Foundation songs and the songs of your family to see if you have a title?” Mark asked him. 

“We don’t. My Ancestor who took part in the foundation was Malk the Ever Fierce. That is not a title, just a name to separate him from the other Founders. Same as a surname, before there were surnames.”

“Ever fierce?” Grigori asked with surprise.

“Yes.”

“Hm.” He closed his eyes for a few moments, frowning. “Yes, yes,” he muttered as he looked at them and took out his notebook. “We now write it like this,” he said as he wrote it down and showed it to Elik, since both Mark and Vasily could easily see what he was doing, “But in Old Bosilik, this is written like this. Which, in Bosilik now, is also written as…” He grinned as he wrote down, ‘Great Duke.’ He grinned as he raised his notebook again, displaying the words. “You have a fucking title.”

“Language,” Vasily said immediately. 

“Fuck you,” was Grigori’s instant reply. They both smiled. 

“Children,” Mark chided them as he also looked down at the paper. “And is Ever Fierce something that was passed down in your family, like a title?”

“It’s in my full name. I’m Elik Alexandrov, son of Mikhail, of the line of Malk the Ever Fierce. But even here it is a mouthful, so it’s only used for documents that have to go to the archives, and…” he shrugged, “you don’t care about lines at Bosilke, so….” Why use it, when no one cared about it? It wasn’t even in his Bosilik marriage certificate, only in his Quhjani one. 

“Because we have the titles,” Mark grinned. “I’m Duke Mark Mikhanzhij, son of Fyodor. It’s the same as saying I am Mark, of the line of Sergei, fist Duke of the Mikhanzhij family. And now, you see why all the rules and protocols are needed, Elik of Quhjan? You even forgot you had a title as you switched between the old and the new writing system.”

“We forgot because we’re all equally noble,” he grinned. “We have no ranks of nobles at Quhjan.”

“That is true,” Mark agreed with a smile. 

“You know, I suspect you kept the ‘l’ instead of switching to ‘r’,” Grigori said. “Elik, Erik, Malk, Mark…” Grigori smiled. “It’s obvious.”

Mark shook his head. “Not to me.”

“Old Bosilik is fascinating, but so are all languages. When you know where things come from, you understand them better. When you know a language, you know its people. Do you know that the first symbol for Empire was this in the letters of the Bright Empire? A square, for all the area encompassed by a house, together with the sign for ‘large’. The Empire, for them, is their Big House.” He showed it to Elik as he pronounced it. “For Bosilik though,” he wrote, “It’s spear-won land,” he said, lifting his notebook again and letting him see the word in Old Bosilik. 

Which explained a lot of things about the Bosilik, Elik thought. And them too; they didn’t have a word for Empire in their old songs. “Can you tell what titles the other Council Members have? Grigorief of the Line of Gleb the Leader of Men?”

“Let’s try it. If it works for the others, then it will be proof that your name has a title and not just a really weird surname,” Mark said, grinning as Grigori started writing. 

“Yes, that is High General. Field Marshal, I guess?”

“Berezin of the Line of Demjan the Faithful Companion.”

“Companion to whom?”

“No idea.”

“Faithful Companion is Count.”

“Alexeyev?”

Elik shook his head. “He’s also of the line of Malk the Ever Fierce. It’s why our lines never marge.”

“You must have been switching between monarchy and corule at first,” Vasily exclaimed after they had finished with all the Council Members and the highest title was Great Duke. 

“Excuse me?”

“Corule a system where several people or authorities, usually two, share the rule. For example, the first form of government of the ancient kingdom of Maati, where Nisar now is, was that, with the rule shared between a general and a senator. So, I think that, your Malk the Ever Fierce was a single ruler, but for some reason, instead of giving equal rule to his two sons, which he could have done, since he let them both use descent from his line in their names, instead chose to make all his court partners in rulership. Perhaps his sons were too young, or they were incompetent. Or he really wanted to reward his leading Courtiers for their role in founding Quhjan. Thus, you switched to oligarchy, the rule of a few families, with all twelve families being equal, then tried monarchy, but that didn’t work well for you, and switched back to oligarchy ever since. Well, until his Majesty came along.”

Mark and Elik shared a look. Elik was glad he wasn’t the only one feeling a little awkward. 

Vasily and Grigori shared a look. Vasily nodded. 

“In our spare time, we either cook or tend to the garden, or read a bit,” Grigori said. “Ever since Vasily taught me how to read and write, I got so curious about letters. That I now have the good fortune to be able to learn languages and their history in my spare time makes me so glad,” he smiled. 

“I just like history. I like learning how people did things in the past, and how different they were then and now.”

And clearly, they both approached their spare-time reading as seriously as their work. “I now feel bad for reading romances in my spare time,” Elik admitted. 

“I don’t even read in my spare time,” Mark said, smirking. “I read enough at work. By the time I am done with that, the last thing I want is read a book. I prefer playing cards or doing other things.”

“I like reading romances and plays because everything has a neat ending and the characters are either good or bad. Real life is messy and complicated and people have good and bad traits at the same time.”

“I find romances unrealistic,” Grigori snorted.

Elik smiled. Vasily and him lived in their own romance, how could any fictional story compare to that? 

“You know who also finds romances completely unrealistic? His Majesty,” Mark groaned. “Honestly, if I hear one more talk of witches. For some reason, he hates their appearance more than anything else.”

Elik nodded. “He wrote about witches twice in his letters to me, and at Sorain, when he saw a painting with three witches, he again made his views on the matter very clear.”

“Also, when we were at Sorain, and you sent Dima to let me know that His Highness was being a bigger pest than usual? Poor Dima had galloped all the way to the King’s retreat from the Barracks, where he thought he were, and then ran inside the retreat until he could find us.”

So, Vasily had known that His Husband was there before he did? How? But he couldn’t interrupt at that point. He really wanted to hear the story. Maybe he just had to accept that Vasily simply knew Everything. 

“He had barely managed to tell us that the Merman needed rescuing from the Dragon, when His Majesty gave us a three-minute lecture on how dragons and merpeople were not real, and authors had to write romances based on real life and not stupid fantasies, before we could explain to him that Merman was your code name since Storjord and Dragon the code name for Duke Alexandre.”

“Merman?”

“You love the sea, so that seemed appropriate,” he grinned. 

“We really need to check the content of all the romances when we are back at Ivanhof,” Mark muttered. “Or commission writers to create new ones, conforming to His Majesty’s ideas about fidelity to truth. I don’t want to hear a lecture on witches ever again. Or the behaviour of knights-errant.”

“But,” Elik smiled, even though he could see Mark’s point, “he takes such pleasure in telling people how wrong they are in reading about witches and how art should be true to nature. I wouldn’t want to deprive him of something that makes him that happy.”

Mark looked at him strangely. “You just don’t want someone to take away your romances,” he grinned.

“Maybe? I haven’t read all of them yet, and…. If you look at my books here, you will not find a single romance. They’re all about things I needed to learn. It’s nice to be able to read books that are not for work.”

The others nodded. 

“And, maybe we should go back to work now?” Mark asked. “By the time we arrive at Ivanhof, we must figure out how to present you as one of the Great Dukes of Quhjan, Oldest of all the Old Nobles in the Empire, so Old that you even forgot you had a title. But first, we should write the decrees punishing the Semyonovs and send them with tomorrow’s courier to the Capital.”

Elik stood up and the others also did. “I know it must be done, but I still hate it.”

“It’s good that you heard the suggestion about punishing them in the Old Way, and not His Majesty, though,” Mark told him seriously. “He would have agreed to it. Take comfort in the knowledge that you do what is just and in accordance to the law, and that you are being merciful.”

He picked up the tray with their untouched tea and sweets. “I still hate it.”

“If you hate this, what will you do when we propose the punishment for those who wrote those notes? They clearly and openly wished for your death. It is the same as trying to kill you, and their punishment will have to be even harsher that of the Semyonovs.”

“Can we discuss that when we know who is guilty? Not before?” he sighed.

“Of course, Your Majesty. Count? Count?”

“Of course, Chancellor,” they said at the same time as they saluted him. 

“Then, back to work?”

Vasily stared at him pleadingly. “Your Majesty. You said earlier that we could pet Oleg. May we? And may we also brush his fur?”

“Damn,” Mark gasped. “I forgot to tell you that His Majesty had decided to to reward the Major with two Tanovic dogs, and you must write that decree too.”

Before Elik could say how funny it was that His Majesty had come up with that reward, Vasily’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “I can have more dogs?” he gasped with the purest expression of delight he had seen in anyone. 

“Obviously, since His Majesty grants them,” he said, smiling, and feeling bad for wanting to tease Vasily for a second. 

“Then I want more cats,” Grigori said immediately, grinning widely and just as happily as Vasily at the mention of dogs. 

“Of course, it wouldn’t be fair otherwise. Should we go see the kittens before going to brush Oleg’s fur? It is so relaxing, you will see.”

“Watching kittens is more relaxing.”

Elik started walking ahead, trying not to laugh. It seemed that even the most perfect couple he had met after his parents and Mark and Lady Ekaterina could have arguments. Who knew, perhaps His Husband and he would also argue abouts cats and dogs if they were still married in ten years. How nice that would be. 

“I don’t agree, but let’s see first?” Vasily told Grigori in a reconciliating tone. 

“And, unlikely though it seems, maybe petting a dog is relaxing too?” Grigori asked in the same tone. 

He smiled. And perhaps his Husband and he would also learn to reconcile after an argument in such a manner. One could hope. 

&*&*

Irina looked out of her window as her brother, the Chancellor and the two Majors were walking back to the house. She sighed and went back to her letter to Olga. 

_Speaking of men, You were So Right, dearest Sister. The best ones are either taken or not interested in women. How I wish you were here to hold me, as I held you when you cried that it was unfair that Major Lesnev was married AND not interested in women. You liked the Major for his gentle eyes and his tall, lean physique, but, oh, Sister, His Husband!_

_He is not as tall as the Major, perhaps by a palm or so, and he has black hair that shine blue in the light, so deep black is his hair. I have never seen such black hair before. He probably spends a lot of time outdoors, since his skin has a lovely golden colour that makes his green eyes even more striking. Really, compared to him, the Major looks boring, just as blond and blue-eyed as everyone else around my brother. I agree that he is a handsome blond, but, Sister, His Husband!_

_I wish I had words to describe his physique well, so I will just add a drawing to my letter. But I must say this. His Arms. They are so thick! Today is such a lovely, warm summer day that we had lunch in the garden, under the cherry trees, so, at some point, they took off their coats. I was amazed that his shirt had not ripped. That tightly it was stretched! And he is like that EVERYWHERE! He looks like he could easily lift up the Major with one arm!_

_Sister, you are So Right. Whoever designed the Elite Guards’ uniform is a person to whom we all owe thanks and gratitude. They are made to accentuate men’s tight bottoms and firm legs. You know that I agree with you; Afanasiii has the best calves, Ivan the perfect bottom, but I think if the Major (His Husband) were competing with the guards, he could win the contest for best thighs. Or at least take the first place together with Leonid._

_We must console ourselves with the thought that at least he and the Major are a beautiful couple. I will add another drawing so you can see how they look together. They do look good, you will agree. Alas, this does not answer our other question. It just makes it more difficult to answer._

_You were certain that the Major would be the Upper partner, and his Husband the Lower one, and back at Sorain I had agreed with you, but, really, the Major, His Husband is so ripped and fit compared to the Major (who is fit, I will not deny that, and tall, and strong, but Not Like his Husband), that I am not sure anymore._

_Do you think men and men together switch Upper and Lower positions the way that men and women can’t?_

_Ah, but how I wish you were here so you could comfort me, the way I comforted you. Why is the first person that looks **interesting** , someone who is taken AND not interested in women? Isn’t that the greatest unfairness of them all?_

_Sister, I could not look away from Him during lunch time, even though I knew it was wrong and pointless. I was so scared my brother would notice and tell me I was rude, or worse, pinch me, but I was lucky and he didn’t. Even so, I feel that I did not look enough. Like you had said of the Major, if I had such a Husband, I would look at him all day and still not get my fill._

_I will stop here so I can draw them, as I promised you._

_Your most devoted and loving Sister,_

_Irina_


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place on the same day as the last two chapters. It was just so ridiculously long and they talked OF SO MANY THINGS that I had to break it in three parts....

_a few hours later, northwest of Jedlowa_

Nikolaj sang patiently How beautiful is Mother land for the third time that day. First when they had arrived at Chereniski, then when they started the feast, and now that the feast was ending. Didn’t they do anything else but ride and sing in Quhjan? It seemed like it. At least the meat was not overcooked. That must have been a Jedlowa thing. 

The moment that ended, he turned to Count Bitoulin. “We shall…”

“One, two, one, two,” someone started singing. 

He turned towards Major Kamenski. “I must stay for this?” he tried to ask without letting his smile become an annoyed grimace. As much as he appreciated and understood this was in his honour, he wanted to go to his rooms, get washed, and write to his darling before going to bed. How he envied Queen Adelaide, who had claimed to be sick and left in the middle of the feast. 

The Major nodded. “It’s the Sword dance. If you leave now, it will be a grave insult. This is to show you that we are battle-ready.”

He fought back the urge to tell him that he knew they were battle-ready. They were riding with him, after all. That sword dance, he also wanted to say. He knew that fucking dance. Had his darling kept his mouth shut that day, would their lives had been different? Would his Court had seen what a fierce, but tame creature he had married, instead of branding him an uncouth, freedom-loving peasant who was not worthy of him? 

Ah, fuck his court. If he went back to Ivanhof and found them harassing his Most Perfect and Hard-Working Regent, he would not listen to Mark and his Ministers any longer. No, he would show himself worthy of his Great and Honoured Ancestors and he would burn them and Ivanhof with them. 

With a satisfied smile, and seeing that people stayed up, he too remained standing. “Ah, that. I had seen Lady Irina dance it once.” 

“Yes, she is very good at it,” Major Kamenski smiled approvingly. “You will see, the men dance it slightly differently.”

As the singers started a monotonous tune, two of the men moved to the centre of the main town square. They were dressed in slightly different clothes than the Jedlowans, he realized, their tunics dark blue rather than white, and with different designs. They unsheathed their swords, one in each hand and started moving back and forth as they swirled their weapons. 

First, it was just a display of skill, but as the song progressed and became faster, they began engaging each other, thrusting and parrying. “It is impressive,” he admitted. Faster too than when Lady Irina had danced it. “My darling says he can also dance that. I know it’s been years since he lived in Jedlowa, but do you remember if he was any good at it, by any chance?”

The Major nodded with an even bigger smile. “Yes. And when he danced it with Radu, ah, it was a thing of beauty. When two men train together, they dance it so well.”

Radu? It took him a moment to remember who that was. Hm, his darling’s best friend who tried to kill him. That man must have loved Elik as much as he did. Or perhaps less; if Elik left him, he would let him go. Elik’s happiness was more important to him than his own. What an idiot Radu must have been, to have Elik so close to him, and yet not know that the only way to keep the one you love, is by letting them go. 

Not that Elik would ever leave him. No, Elik was crazy about him, a bit too crazy, in fact. But that was not a problem, he smiled happily. 

“We dance with daggers at Bosilke,” he said once the song started to come to a close, obvious from how the men disengaged and the tune slowed again. “May we show you?” He turned towards Count Bitoulin before the Major could reply. “Dance with me, Count?”

Count Bitoulin nodded as he gave the order to the Guards to sing. “But, please remember it is dancing and not training.”

“I will try,” he grinned. He definitely would. 

&*&*

_even later that night, at Jedlowa_

Vasily looked up from his book as Grisha came back from the kitchen with two mugs. 

“There is light in His Majesty’s kitchen,” he said as he handed one mug to Vasily. 

“Really? He probably can’t sleep again, and he’s cooking.”

Grisha smiled. “You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you this since lunch, but didn’t find the time. Vasya, you are coddling him. He’s not a child.”

“I know. And I know that he is my King.” He closed his book as he drank a little of the chamomile infusion. “But he is so very lonely. Have you noticed that he wants people to call him by his name? And he was about to cry when we discussed the punishment of the Semyonovs.”

Grisha stared at him. He put his mug on the desk and came to sit next to him. “You want to go into that kitchen and see what he is doing, don’t you?”

“I’m certain he’s fine.”

“I did not ask you that. I asked you what you want to do.” He looked at him seriously. “Did you fall in love with him? I can understand why you fell for Oleg, but… His Majesty?” he looked horrified. 

“No, of course not.” He put down the mug and the book on the floor and hugged Grisha. “Of course not. But he is so young, and he does remind me of Sashenka so much. Like him, he’s a dreamer and I can’t help wanting to protect him and make his dream come true, because it’s also my dream. One land, where we are all free and equal.” He leaned so that his forehead touched Grisha’s and sighed deeply. 

“Since you miss your brother so much that you have found a substitute, then maybe you could write to him again. Mark does. Twice a year for the last nine years.”

“No. There’s only so much abuse I can take from him.”

“It’s been five years since the last time we wrote him,” he reminded him. 

“So? Marks asks him twice a year to beg His Majesty for forgiveness for that stupid story of his, so that he can return home. And twice a year he replies with what is essentially a different variation of ‘fuck you, you corrupt and decadent imperial mouthpiece’. I don’t know how Mark puts up with it.”

“You are saying that you haven’t forgiven him,” Grisha smiled sadly.

“How can I? We invited him to our house, and he wrote that I was a traitor to our dreams and that we had become ‘imperial dogs’. That was the only time in years that he’d replied to one of our letters, and it was only to insult us. And, if he refuses to listen to Mark, do you think he will have changed his mind about us?” 

Grisha stared at him sadly, and he sighed. “He acted as if we had a choice, Grisha.” What could they have done differently, as Sasha believed they could? When his father had disinherited him, his whole family (except for Mark) had turned against him, he’d been left with no money, he had no skills that could help him earn money and, in any case, how could he have left Grisha alone, when his love had been ill after being beaten? … What choice had they had but beg Mark for help, and rely on his kindness until Grisha got well and they were allowed to join the army? 

“Even now,” he continued, “I still don’t know what annoys me the most; that he refused to listen to our side of the story, or that he behaves as if he is a martyr, suffering for freedom up in the north, when he used his money to flee there, and buy himself a fucking castle so he can live in exile,” he snorted. “He still has slaves and lives off the income the Stanjisnki estates generate. What a hypocrite.”

Grisha smiled. “He’s a spoiled child who doesn’t know better.” 

“I know,” Vasily told him softly. “And even now, I would love to spoil him if he let me, and I would forgive him for insulting me, but he insulted you, Grisha. That I cannot forgive before he apologizes to us.”

“His Majesty is also a bit spoiled,” Grisha said, clearly wanting to change the discussion before they both got too miserable. ““‘A bed and Nikolaj’,” he laughed. “How cute. How clearly said by someone who’s never slept out in the cold, or in the open, or went hungry in his life.”

“At least, I think if His Majesty ever lost everything, he could probably manage to make a living out of one of his skills. I didn’t even know how to boil water when Father disowned me.”

“And if he had His Majesty, he’d have someone to keep him warm,” Grisha smiled at him. “The way you kept me warm.”

He smiled back. 

“So, do you want to go see what he’s cooking next door?” Grisha asked as he leapt off the bed and grabbed his stockings from the floor. 

“Perhaps he too went to make some herbal infusion, like you did.”

“Well, then we can say we went for an inspection.” Grisha threw his stockings at him. “Get moving.”

With a grin, Vasily did.

The kitchen next door was still occupied; that was the first thing they noticed when they went down, so out they went. The Guards let them in the house, and they stood by the kitchen door for a moment. His Majesty was in the middle of making tea, his two Guards were getting mugs for everyone and checking the fire, and Mark was sitting at the table. “This looks familiar,” he whispered to Grisha. “Although, I had never expected to see Mark too.”

“Everyone needs educational material,” Mark grinned. 

All of His Majesty’s blood seemed to be in his face. Ah, fuck it; Grisha was right; he was babying him. But he really couldn’t help it. He coughed loudly. 

“Count Lesnev. And Count Lesnev. Please, come in, but what are you doing here?”

Vasily walked into the kitchen, followed by Grisha. 

“I was making a herbal infusion when I saw the light from your kitchen,” Grisha said, “so we came to check if everything was fine.” 

“You didn’t have to be so diligent,” Mark smirked. 

“I was also curious if you needed help with anything,” Vasily continued a little more softly. 

“Oh, thank you, yes. I was thinking of making sweet bread, with dried fruits and nuts.”

“For everyone?”

His Majesty nodded. “It’s traditional bread for weddings, and since Vanya and the others said that I can organize them, I would like to make something with my own hands for them.”

“You need help,” Vasily agreed. “Chancellor, will you also assist us?”

Mark looked surprised and curious at the same time. “Yes?” 

“Thank you,” His Majesty told him gratefully. 

“The fire is ready,” Maxim said. 

“Thank you.” He put the pot with the water on, then brought a plate on the table. “I really miss the almond cookies we had at Sorain.”

Maxim and Anatoli nodded, and he agreed with them. Those cookies had been delicious. “I have the recipe, but hadn’t had the time to try it yet,” Vasily said. 

His Majesty looked at him as if he were his saviour. “You got it? How? No one would give it to me. Should we try it now? What do you need?”

“Almonds, sugar and eggs.”

“Only those three?”

“And something to add flavour, or even colour, if you wish. But we need to get the almonds washed and soaked overnight before we even start with the preparation.”

“We have time. Let me find the almonds. Really, how did you get the recipe?” he asked as he opened the door to the cellar.

Vasily just gave him a look.

“I’ll get them,” Anatoli cut off His Majesty before he could go down. “Ivan,” he shouted. “In here.”

“Really,” His Majesty whined as Ivan came inside the kitchen to take Anatoli’s place as he checked the cellar. “At least tell me this, since Maxim never does. How did Maxim and the others get into King Hans Ulrich’s bedroom?”

“Easily,” Vasily replied with a smile. 

Mark snorted, while His Majesty huffed as he checked the water. 

Vasily looked at Mark and Grisha, gesturing just slightly towards His Majesty and making a questioning frown for a second. 

With his back still turned to them, His Majesty said, “Water is almost ready,” as he brought down a large teapot and added leaves.

Mark nodded. “I think it’s a story worth telling. Only, I would rather hear it from Vasya, not the Count,” he said. 

He and Grisha nodded. “I think you should hear it from the one who was there,” he said, pointing towards Maxim, who looked about to start jumping with excitement. 

“And is it fine for Elik to hear?” His Majesty smiled at them as he poured water in the pot. 

“Of course,” Mark smiled indulgently. 

“Then, let’s wait for Anatoli, please?” Maxim asked. 

Elik nodded. “I’ve been waiting for months to hear this. I can wait a little longer.”

When Anatoli was back, carrying a really large bag, they sat around the table. Ivan looked at them pleadingly, but before Vasily could give him permission, Grisha motioned him to get out. 

“It wouldn’t hurt if he was here,” Elik said.

“His post is there,” Grisha told him sternly and Elik lowered his eyes like a chastised child. 

Mark gulped, once more looking at Elik with all the interest he reserved for his playthings. 

Vasily felt a headache coming. He’d have to have a talk with Mark. And perhaps he ought to have a talk with Lady Irina’s tutor, or the Lady herself? The way she had been ogling his Husband during lunch and dinner had been completely unacceptable. Grisha had not liked it at all, but had been unable to do anything about it. 

“Well, Maxim?” he asked, instead of thinking more about it. 

With a wide grin, Maxim started. “As you know, during official dinners, we usually had our dinner either at the kitchens or the barracks. So, as we were there, discussing that we had to pay Hans Ulrich back with the same coin, and deciding which ones of us should do it, we couldn’t help but notice that the servants used a second staircase in order to go upstairs.” He snorted. 

“You can say it,” Anatoli said. “There is always a second, if not a third staircase leading to the kitchens of a palace, when the kitchens are in the same building. We always look for it,” he smiled. 

“Why don’t I know of that?” Elik whispered. 

“Because you would get lost trying to go to the kitchens through that corridor at Ivanhof,” Maxim answered. 

Mark chuckled. “You can’t even get out of the garden mazes without help. Please, don’t try finding the kitchens on your own when we are back.”

Elik laughed. “You’d probably need to rescue me from the attic. I could go up rather than down.”

Maxim nodded. “The difficult thing was distracting the kitchen staff long enough for one of us to slip into the corridor and explore it,” he continued, still grinning. “The easy thing is, when there were eighteen of us, and only five of the kitchen staff, as it was there, it was easy to create distractions. Furthermore,” he grinned, “people in the West couldn’t easily tell us apart.”

“To them we’re all tall, blond, and handsome,” Anatoli smiled.

“And we look great in uniform,” Maxim raised his eyebrows.

“You do, you are,” Elik gushed at them. “But, Maxim, why did you even think this was a good idea?”

“He slighted you. Were we supposed to let that slide?” 

“Yes.”

Anatoli and Maxim both snorted. 

“Maxim?” Vasily asked him to continue, before one of them said something inappropriate. “The story?”

“Yes, thank you. So, while we decided to show to the kitchen staff what the fuss about us was,” he smirked, “Yuri slipped out, and went up that corridor. It’s a small palace, so by the time we had showed the kitchen staff how we make the dough for sweet dumplings while we sang, Yuri was back and no one had even noticed he was gone for the better part of an hour.”

“That’s what you did? You cooked and sang? I am disappointed a little,” Mark snorted. 

“Well,” Maxim said a little defensively, “it’s not like we could fuck everyone from here to there. There are so many people in the West, and just so many of us.”

“Besides, it’s never a good idea to fuck in the kitchen. Flour gets in the strangest places,” Grigori said seriously. Vasily looked away, embarrassed. It had only been that one time, yet Grisha kept saying it over and over. 

“Yes, I prefer the dining room,” Mark nodded.

“What’s wrong with the bedroom?” Elik asked them. 

Maxim shook his head, as if he were disappointed. “Anyway,” he continued, “Yuri told us that this passageway goes all the way to the top, and leads to each of the floors, allowing servants to move unseen. Most importantly, it is connected via a separate corridor to a bedroom right above that of Hans Ulrich that is the one used by whoever is his mistress of the month, which, in turn, is connected to Hans Ulrich’s with a small staircase. In fact, the most difficult thing was slipping into that servants’ corridor, but since the corridor was heavily used when plates were moved about, as we had noticed during dinner service, and not at all at other times, Team Maxim started slipping into it while Team Gerasim performed in the dining hall. And, the rest you all know,” he smiled with a bow.

Elik started clapping. “Oh, that was marvellous!”

Mark, Vasily and Grisha joined Elik in showing their appreciation. “You know, His Majesty will ask you how you did it. And just so you know in advance, he will probably ask how King Hans Ulrich performed.” Mark grinned. “How did he perform?”

“Hm,” Maxim thought. “He was a four when we started, but he was a seven by the time we left Deep Port.”

“Do you judge everyone’s performance like that?” Elik asked him, his expression a mixture of curiosity and shock.

“Yes,” Maxim answered proudly. “Don’t worry,” he started saying, no doubt about to tell them how he rated Their Majesties. 

“Love should not be judged, when it is true and beautiful and pure,” Vasily said seriously, cutting him off. Even though Maxim claimed that Their Majesties were a solid ten, there was no need to embarrass Elik.

Maxim nodded, and Elik smiled a little. 

“Experience must play a part as well,” Mark said. “The more you know your partner, the easier it is to please them, and for them to please you. What do you think, Elik?”

Elik’s eyes widened. 

“I think it’s love that makes even the most awkward touch feel wonderful, when it comes from the hand of your lover,” Vasily replied before Elik could. He really had to talk to Mark; he had no desire to run interference between him and Elik the way he’d done between His Majesty and His Highness at Valentin. That had been annoying. He suddenly took Grisha’s hands in his. “I missed you so much. Especially at Sorain.” He sighed. 

Elik smiled dreamily at the word Sorain. He turned to Vasily. “Erm… May I ask you something?” 

“Yes?”

“When,” Elik continued with the same soft expression, “His Majesty came to find me… Actually, I have many questions. I sent Dima to find you so you could rescue me from the Dragon, but you came with His Majesty. Did you know in advance?”

“Of course not, but His Majesty knew we were there, and wanted to ask Count Rasoulin and me how you were before finding you,” he replied. “And what other questions did you have?”

“Well, sorry, this is a personal question, but,” Elik blushed a little, “afterwards, why did you stay with Counts Rasoulin and Njedzic instead of leaving?” 

“That was me being stupid,” Vasily grinned. “I told King Charles that the ritual had to be witnessed, so, I couldn’t leave after saying that.”

“Ah,” Elik said. He smiled. “I see. I was curious why you would stay at an orgy that you wouldn’t take part.”

Mark snorted. “Ritual. Really, how did you come up with that idea?”

“I clearly had to come up with something, hadn’t I?” Vasily grinned. It was either that, or letting His Majesty cause a diplomatic incident of unprecedent proportions. What choice did he have? But since his gamble had worked, he could laugh about it. 

“So, I thought, what would make a good excuse for a pious and god-fearing King such as Charles?” He looked into Grisha’s eyes. “And I remembered the Winter Solstice Celebrations. We had so much fun then,” he smiled at his husband softly. “Furthermore,” he added angrily, “King Charles had made me so mad when he suggested that Their Majesties’ behaviour was outrageous. That a love so pure and beautiful should be judged outrageous and not be allowed to express itself physically is a crime against nature. Everyone should have the right to make love to their husbands or wives or lovers wherever and whenever they want.”

“What joy to fuck freely in the Motherland,” Mark snorted, making Elik gasp and hide his face behind his hands. He started laughing a moment later. 

“But love is powerful,” Elik smiled happily when he stopped. “And I agree with Vasily. It should be expressed physically, wherever and whenever a couple wants.” 

“Or, the three or four or five, or eleven that are involved want,” Maxim said. 

Elik and Anatoli nodded seriously.

“As long as they all want it and it’s their choice,” Elik said. 

“Of course,” Vasily said, glancing at Mark for a moment. 

“Is that bag full of almonds?” Grisha asked, clearly wanting to change the discussion. He went to check it, and cursed very softly when he opened it. “We will be shelling them all night. I think we all need help if you want to make almond cookies and bread for everyone.”

Anatoli stood up. “If you allow me, I’ll check with Ivan if he knows who else might be up.” He hurried out the moment Vasily nodded.

“And this is also a familiar thing,” Vasily told Grisha in a low voice. 

“And I couldn’t be more grateful for all the help,” Elik smiled. “Oh, I really hope we manage to make the almond cookies. They were marvellous.”

Anatoli nodded from the door. “With your permission, I’ll go get help.”

“Thank you.” He snorted. “Really, what joy to fuck freely? We should write words for the whole song,” he laughed. “His Majesty will enjoy that.” He sighed deeply. “Oh, how I miss him. You know what? I’ll teach you Quhjani wedding songs while we shell the almonds so you can sing along at the feast after the weddings. Ah. They bring such fond memories,” he smiled. “Why does He hate dancing?” he sighed again as he stood up and started making more tea. “He is really good at it.”

“That’s also familiar?” Grisha asked him in a whisper.

“Yes.”

Grisha squeezed his hand. “How do Quhjani songs differ from Bosilik?” he asked. 

Vasily gave him a grateful look. He was so glad Grisha was willing to help. Hearing Elik’s sighs and how he missed his husband was sweet but it could get exhausting after a while. In the name of all the Honoured Ancestors he no longer had, what had he done by accepting a role at Court? He’d deal with it non-stop… 

Just as he had done for the last few months. He could manage in the future, as he’d managed in the past. 

Although, thus far, Elik had been in a much better mood after this separation from His Majesty than after the previous one. Perhaps knowing that his husband loved him truly and accepted him wholeheartedly had given him the strength he’d lacked when they had left Ivanhof almost six months before. 

Ah, love. What force could be more powerful?


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or, the chapter in which I totally gave up pretending that Vasily and Grigori are not muses.... there will be more of them in future chapters...

“I would like to take a walk into town with Oleg. Would that be acceptable, Chancellor?”

The Chancellor nodded. “Of course, Sire. I will let you in on a secret. I hate working immediately after breakfast. I’ll just sit here and enjoy more tea, if I may?”

“Of course.” His Majesty stood up and they also did. “Gentlemen.” He hurried towards his house. “Oleg?”

Mark sat down again, leaned back and closed his eyes. 

Count Rasoulin smirked. “I hadn’t heard that in a while.”

“That is true,” Vasily said. “Working suits him better than wandering around, doing nothing.” Also, it made their lives easier; it was easier to protect His Majesty when he was sitting in an office than when he was out and about. 

“I still have nightmares of that ship on wheels,” he snorted. “Unlike some, I have no problem working after breakfast.” He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Count Lesnev?”

They both turned towards him. 

“I meant Vasily. This is awkward. I mean, calling you with the same title and having you both respond.”

“Well… you could always point,” Grisha laughed.

“That is rude,” he huffed. “Anyway, that is not the really awkward thing I must talk to you about.” He took a very deep breath. “Someone must explain the difference between sealed and unsealed letters to Lady Irina. I thought of doing it, but I dare not.”

Mark opened one eye. “How scary can she be?”

Count Rasoulin and he glared at Mark. He turned his attention towards the Count again. “I needed to talk to her about another matter, so I will talk to her about the letters.”

“Thank you.” The Count gave him a letter, nodded and turned, trying to run back to the house as quickly as possible. 

Vasily unfolded it and started reading. The usual about her devotion to Olga, how she missed her, how Jedlowa was lovely in the summer, how her brother spent all his time with the men, how Olga thought WHAT? and his Husband was... WHAT? And... Seriously? 

He finished the letter and collapsed on the chair. “Young ladies are frightening,” he whispered. This was much worse than he thought. At least the drawings were nice.

Mark snorted. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No. May Vasya talk to you, Chancellor?”

“Sure. What is it?” Mark opened both eyes and sat up. 

“I’ll go get more tea,” Grisha said, turning back. 

“That bad?”

“No, more like… I need to tell you something that makes me uncomfortable, and if you don’t like it, you might take my head. I don’t want Grisha caught up in this, and even though he disagrees, he agreed to this.”

Mark frowned. “That really sounds bad. What is it?”

“You’re playing with fire. I know you and His Majesty have been sharing things since you were little, but I think that His Majesty finally has something he doesn’t like sharing much.”

Mark snorted. “Damn, Vasya, you scared me. That’s it? I’m just teasing him. I would never do anything without His Majesty’s permission.”

“I know that, but I am also worried that you might say something that will go beyond teasing and then neither he will be able to pretend he doesn’t know what you mean, nor His Majesty. If you really want a plaything so badly,” he took a deep breath, “you know the Guards are up for anything. I don’t know if there is one among them who shares your more particular tastes, but I am certain that, if someone cannot be found among them, they can find someone for you.”

“You must be desperate if you consider pimping them out.”

Vasily shrugged. “It’s not pimping when they love it and I won’t be making any profit. It’s mediating. What about Maxim? He hasn’t slept with a duke yet, so he’d fuck you just for that. Although, he will rate your performance afterwards.”

“He was not joking about that?”

He shook his head. “He has this theory that noble men can’t fuck well because they are spoiled by wealth and flattery. For the last months he’s been trying to fuck anyone with a title to test it. So far, his theory holds.”

“Vasya, I am really worried about the fact that you know so much about the Guards’ private lives,” he smirked.

“I’ve spent five months partying with them. Of course, I know almost everything about them by now. Damn it, Mark, you were in that kitchen last night for three hours. You heard how they talk and share. Some, like Maxim, even over-share. Imagine spending half your day while they talk like that, and the other half getting their reports.”

“That is true.”

“So, I’m not being their pimp. I know them. They’d happily fuck you.”

Mark smiled smugly. “Who says they haven’t?”

He sighed, shaking his head, and feeling a little proud at how the Guards managed to show such discretion when it came to Mark. They must have realised that gossiping about sleeping with the Chancellor would not be good for their careers. “So, why don’t you continue fucking whoever fucked you? And leave His Majesty alone?”

“But by now he expects me to tease him. And he does look so easy to tease that it’s difficult not to tease him.”

He took a deep breath. “Grisha thinks I miss Sasha so much that I have turned His Majesty into a substitute for him in my head. Is this what is going on? Because you used to tease him mercilessly and care deeply for him in equal measure. I still remember that day you pretended you had killed his dog and made him cry only so you could then present him with two new puppies and play with him. Do you?”

Mark paled. “I had forgotten that day.”

“I haven’t. I had spent half that day trying to find Dushie while you were being an ass. And when I found her and came to find you, you and Sashenka were playing with his new puppies like nothing had happened. Mark, if you have found your Sasha substitute, please, stop teasing him, and only care for him. He needs you as his mentor. I really am worried that you will cross a line someday, and His Majesty will not forgive you. He is crazy about him.”

“I know. You didn’t see how he was while his husband was away.”

“And you didn’t see how he was once they reunited. It was pure and beautiful, but also dangerous. His Majesty almost caused an Incident for his husband. Please, Mark. Stop.”

Mark smiled at him slowly. “When did you grow up and become so wise?”

“I’m not wise. I see a situation and assess how it can develop. It is my professional opinion that this is a situation that is not going to go well if it continues. It is my hope as your cousin Vasya that you will listen to it.”

Mark nodded slowly. “I do trust your professional opinion, so I will listen to it.”

“Good.”

“But it is hard. He has these big eyes and…”

“Mark,” he growled. “Stop it.”

Mark chuckled. “You know, Grisha may have a point. Yesterday, when we were supposed to write the decree punishing the Semyonovs, he said that since we are going to leave for the Capital in a few days, we don’t have to send it now.”

Vasily frowned. “It is better to resolve this before he arrives. Don’t tell me you agreed to leaving it for later.” 

“I did,” he smiled with amusement. “You saw how he was about to cry when we were talking about it. He did the same in my office as he tried to write the decree and couldn’t. And... I couldn’t find it in me to make him actually cry, I felt that bad.” Mark snorted. “You know what I just remembered about that day? One of the puppies was supposed to be for you, but when Sasha started crying and crying, and it was no longer fun to tease him, I felt so bad that I gave him both of them. Sorry.”

Vasily glared at him. How could Mark be such an ass?

“Sorry,” Mark laughed. 

He shook his head, smiling. “I’m glad you did. He was insufferable when he was miserable. A bit like His Majesty. So, instead of puppies, you gave him the Semyonovs?”

Mark chuckled. “Indeed. Also, do you think we should have eunuch guards in the palace?”

“Excuse me?”

“Their Majesties together are too distracting. The other day, the Guards outside their room were useless because of how affected they were.”

“Maybe they should focus their minds elsewhere,” Vasily huffed. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t think they are arousing?”

“I think they are beautiful together. But arousing?”

Mark gave him that special ‘are-you-stupid-or-annoying?’ look.

“Well, they can be, but I try to keep my mind on other things when that happens, and not let that influence me.” He grinned. “Counts R, N, and I co-ordinated the entire trip back and allocated Guard duties for three weeks when His Majesty performed that sacred ritual in front of Charles and his courts.”

“Freaks,” Mark muttered under his breath with a fond look. 

He laughed. “Grisha’s arms when he kneads dough are more arousing to me than Their Majesties in the middle of any ritual,” he told Mark when he calmed down. Oh, damn. He was not alone in appreciating Grisha’s arms anymore. 

“What is it?”

“My other talk of the day. Lady Irina. She also looks where she mustn’t.”

“Hm, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Because you are busy imagining His Majesty on his knees in front of you.”

Mark swallowed. “Vasya! For someone trying to get me to behave properly, you surely know how to stock the fire of my desire.”

Mark was not the only one who could be an ass when he wanted. He smirked. “I said what I have to say.” 

“Vasya? Honesty, do you think Grisha is right? That we both miss Sasha and so treat Him as if he were Sashenka? I hadn’t even realised I was doing it until you mentioned it, so can it be so?”

He shrugged. “I think, I treat all my men as if they were Sasha. They are all so young, and everything is new and exciting and strange and wonderful to them, and I want them to grow into their full potential so much. He is not that different from them. Ah, these days I feel such shameful joy that their duty is to be with this Majesty and not the other. I would hate to lose them.”

“What do Bosilik do when they don’t fight, though? Grisha said it yesterday. Our Empire is one of spear-won lands. We are warriors, even we two. We just fight with other means.”

“I don’t know, but how I hope it were time to find out. Perhaps after this war is over?”

“Perhaps.”

He sighed. Who knew what the next day would bring? Why worry about what would happen when this war was over? “I need to go see Her Ladyship. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Cousin.”

“Thanks.” 

Mark stood up as well. “I think I had enough of a break. I wonder if He is back from his walk with Oleg. We need to go over the reports that the courier brought from Ivanhof.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

They walked silently back to the house. “Chancellor,” he said as he saluted him at the top of the staircase.

“Your Excellency,” Mark accepted the salute and turned towards his room, while Vasily turned the other way to Lady Irina’s bedroom.

He knocked on her door.

“Enter.”

He opened it. “Hello.”

She stood up from where she was sitting by her desk. “Hello. Erm… are you sure you want me? Eli is in his room, at the other side.”

No, he wasn’t, because his Guards were not outside his door, but he didn’t correct her. She'd find out soon enough. He nodded. “May we speak in the garden? It is not proper that we are alone in your room and I cannot discuss what I must with you from the door.”

“Why?”

“Because you are still a child and I am a married man. I cannot enter your room, any more than you can enter mine.”

“I am not a child.”

“You are a child until you become an adult at sixteen.”

She glared at him. “I’m not a child but fine, let’s talk in the garden.” 

“Thank you.”

He stepped aside and let her get out of her room. She glanced at the corridor. “Oh, Eli is still out. Tell me, Count… why must I call you Count when you are still a Major?”

“Because a person with a title outranks someone with just a military rank.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I don’t care about how you call me,” he told her honestly, “but I would like it if…” He bit his lips. “No, let’s go out first. Sergei, if you please?”

“Why must he follow us?”

“Because we both need a witness in case anyone tries to spread any nasty rumours that we behaved improperly,” he told her as Sergei walked a few steps behind them and followed them out into the garden. 

“That’s stupid. I would never,” she said proudly.

He smirked. He knew. “Why do you think a Lady of your rank must always be accompanied by a maid-of-honour? I will talk to Count Rasoulin about it, since His Majesty has been too busy to appoint someone to this post.”

“I don’t want a maid-of-honour. What will I do with her?”

“Nothing. She will do things for you.”

“Like follow me around and…” She grimaced. 

Vasily took a deep breath. This was not the discussion he was supposed to be having, and he was already losing track of it. Self-control and logic, he reminded himself. That was how His Majesty handled her. “That is proper, though.”

“Whoever you make my maid-of-honour will stop being my friend,” she shouted.

“Lady Olga was your maid-of-honour, yet you became friends.”

“Yes, but she only met me as ‘Her Excellency’.” She glared at him. “All the girls here know me as Irina. Either they will laugh at me for pretending to be a boring old noble, or they will think I’m taking on airs.”

She had a point. “Do you have, then, someone from among your household servants who might fulfil that role? Someone who respects you for being Irina, the young Lady of the House Alexandrov?”

“I need to think about it. Someone like Maria?”

“Maria is married. It should be someone like Lady Olga, unmarried, close to you in age and to whom you can confide your thoughts.” 

“I see. I really need to think about it.”

“Perhaps we could send you a Lady from the Capital to be your maid-of-honour.” 

She made a face as she sat down. “I want no maids. I’m not a boring old noble.” She looked at him, her gaze more piercing than her brother’s ever was. “And don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.”

“I would never insult you like that.”

“Must I tell you to sit? You’re like a crow standing up like that.”

Vasily smiled pleasantly as he took a sit. “Your Excellency,” he said, and stopped himself. He really wanted to tell her that she had exactly the manners of a boring old noble, insulting without realising it, because she was one. No, he’d let someone else tell her that she was a boring old noble, the oldest of them in the Empire together with the other Quhjani Elders. 

“So, we are at the garden. What did you want to talk to me about?” Her expression was genuine and full of concern, and made up for some of her rudeness. 

“Two things.” He sighed. “Your Excellency, it is rude to stare. Very rude.”

She sat up straight. “Why? The Chancellor stares at everyone. Everyone. Is it because I’m a woman?” Her voice grew louder. “That’s not fair. It’s not fair at all. And, you know what? Even if you can eliminate slavery, and make every conquered person in the Empire equal to the Bosilik, if men and women are not equal, then you will have done nothing.” She glared at him. “Now tell me again that it is rude to stare.”

He smiled. How frightening she was. How wonderful she was. She would have made a formidable Empress. She was clever, and assertive, and full of passion. Ah, if only she had been at least sixteen when His Majesty conquered Quhjan and not twelve. “Your Excellency, you are absolutely right. Men and women must be equal if we want to really have a society where everyone can feel proud to belong to it, where there are no Us and Them anymore, only Us, regardless of where we come from and what we believe.”

She frowned. “But?” she said slowly.

“But even in that ideal society, staring would be rude.” 

She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth.

He started speaking before she could talk. He wouldn’t lose control of this discussion. “Remember when we were traveling towards Sorain, and His Highness was…” being an annoying, self-centred brat, was what he wanted to say, but couldn’t. His Highness was just a lonely young man, one who perhaps was even lonelier than His Majesty. “Well… remember how he was staring at His Majesty, and how it had annoyed you?”

Lady Irina snorted. “How could I forget? He had made Eli so uncomfortable with all the stupid things he was saying and the way he was looking at him like he wanted to eat him.”

“Would you agree, then, that what His Highness had done was rude, even though as host, he was effectively His Majesty’s equal, and so, according to what you said earlier, people who are equal, have the right to stare?”

She frowned. “I… I don’t understand.”

“Let’s start from the beginning. At Sorain, were His Highness and His Majesty practically equal in rank?”

“Yes.”

“And, was His Highness’ behaviour rude?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately and fiercely. 

“So, people can be equal and yet behave rudely?”

“Yes.”

“So, when I say that you can’t stare at people, I don’t say it because I think that women in general cannot stare because they are not equal to men, but because you stared at someone that you were not supposed to stare. The way His Highness stared at His Majesty, even though His Majesty was married and it made him uncomfortable. That is rude staring. That is what I am trying to say.”

“But…” she blushed suddenly. “I did not stare like that,” she shouted. 

He looked at her, trying to convey to her that he knew she had stared and she had better admit it and repent. 

“I…” Lady Irina looked both ashamed and defiant for a few moments, but her blush deepened. 

She was not a child but not a woman yet, but rather a bit of both. He took pity on her. “Please, don’t do it again. It’s exactly what boring old nobles do when they have gotten too used to their privileges and think they are better than others.”

“I’m sorry,” she said earnestly, her cheeks still red. “I didn’t mean it,” she whispered. “Sorry.”

He nodded, smiling at her. “Thank you.” Since she seemed truly remorseful, he decided not to continue with the speech he had prepared that a gaze could be like a weapon, and one should wield it very carefully. 

She looked down. “What else did you want to talk to me about?” she whispered. 

“You have your own seal, right?”

“Yes.”

“You know how to use it?”

She still refused to meet his gaze. “Yes, by pouring wax where the letter is folded close and then stamping the wax.”

He nodded. “You know when to use it?”

“When… When I am writing to His Majesty and Eli and I don’t want people to…” She paled and then reddened and looked up at him with horror in her eyes. “No,” she gasped.

“And when you write to anyone else you want to confide in,” he told her as he put down her folded letter to Lady Olga on the table. 

For a moment, Lady Irina looked like she would faint. Her hand shook as she reached for the letter. “You… you read it?”

“What do you think?” he asked her instead of replying, since he didn’t know what to reply to her. 

She glanced up at him for a moment and then hid the letter in her pocket. “You did?” She said hesitantly as she looked up again. “And you’re not mad?”

He chuckled. “If I was something, it was shocked. I had no idea that young Ladies talked of such things.”

“Really?

He nodded. “I don’t know many young Ladies, and when the Guards and I go to the Palace for our evening duties, His Majesty’s maids-of-honour are all in their beds, sleeping. Or so I hope.” He had to keep an eye on them too. Why had he accepted this new post?

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking even more honestly remorseful than before. “I really am. Did you tell… you-know-who?”

“His Majesty?”

“Your Husband,” she said miserably. 

“Ah,” he laughed. “No.” But only because he had not had the chance. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled again while turning her gaze downwards, looking more like the child she was rather than the woman she was becoming. 

“Please, use your seal next time,” he told her as firmly but gently as he could. 

She nodded. This time, when she looked up, her gaze was that of a woman. “Since you’re not mad, may I ask you something?” 

“You may, but I may not answer,” he told her, even though he wouldn’t. Her eyes were shining far too much for his liking. 

“Between you and your Husband, who is in the Upper and who is in the Lower position?”

He froze. What? And why was he so shocked? She and Lady Olga had been speculating about that for weeks! What else had he expected her to ask? 

“Well?”

“That is a very rude question, Your Excellency.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.” She glanced up again. “Can you answer if men switch positions, at least? My tutor refuses to say, and how can men and women be equal if women don’t know such things?”

He bit back a grin. “How right you are,” he couldn’t help but tell her. “Such knowledge is essential for the equality of men and women.”

“Well?” she looked at him eagerly.

For a moment he was tempted to send her to Mark, so she could borrow his educational material. Giving his puppy to Sashenka. What an ass. But if he did that, His Majesty would likely have his head. “Love teaches lovers what positions to have,” he told her with a smile. 

“Excuse me?” She asked with disbelief. “What?”

“Love is the greatest of the forces of nature, and lovers the creatures most under its control. Of course, they do as love bids them to.”

“That’s no answer.”

“It is the only answer there is.” He stood up and gave her a small bow. “Your Excellency.”

“Ma…. Count… please, wait a moment?” She unfolded her letter and took out her drawings. 

He felt his heart would leap out of his chest, so loudly and quickly it suddenly beat. Would she? Really? Despite her intentions, her drawings were beautiful and not indecent at all. She had captured Grisha’s smile so perfectly, and all the crinkles in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I was so rude. Please, forgive me,” she told him as she offered them to him. “Please, accept these. I had no right.”

He smiled as he took them. He should refuse, but… “Grisha will be so happy to see them. Thank you,” he told her and his voice couldn’t come out, so overcome he was with joy. No one had ever drawn or painted them, and now this gift by her Most Talented Excellency! Oh, how could he wait until evening when they would be alone to tell Grisha? “Thank you.”

She blushed. “You’re welcome. Please, if you see me being rude again, pinch me. That’s what Eli does.”

He grinned. “I am certain it will not be necessary, but thank you for giving me permission.”

She nodded. “I do,” she told him seriously. She stood up and followed him quietly. 

What an Empress they had lost. Was that their Luck or their Misfortune? 

&*&* 

_SISTER!!!!!_

_YOU WERE RIGHT! THE MAJOR!_

_He’s not just handsome, but he’s also kind and full of understanding! It’s not just his eyes that are gentle! It’s his whole person! How unfair that he is married and not interested in women._

_Although, this means that we will never have to argue over him. We can just admire him from afar. Him, and his very, very, very handsome Husband._

_I will tell you everything that happened without hiding any detail from you…_

Irina finished her letter, added the new drawings she had made, folded it, sealed it and then ran out of her room. The Guards were outside the Chancellor’s room, which meant her brother was working but that didn’t deter her. She was his sister in need; she took precedence over the Empire!

“I want to see my brother,” she told Fyodor and Asei. 

They looked at her. 

“Please? It’s an emergency,” she pleaded with them. “I must, I must,” she cried. 

Asei knocked on the door.

“Enter,” the Chancellor shouted. 

Fyodor opened the door for her. 

The Chancellor was standing by the window, with his back turned to Eli, and Eli was sitting at the desk, reading something. He looked up immediately as she walked in, and the Chancellor craned his neck a little. 

“Eli, Eli, I need your help.”

“Of course.” He stood up. “Chancellor, excuse me.” He ran up to meet her.

She grabbed his hand and led him outside. “Eli, you must stamp this with your seal,” she told him, showing him her letter. 

“You’ve already sealed it.”

“Yes, but if you seal it too, then no one will dare open it, right?”

“I guess so?” he smiled at her. “What is it?”

“It’s a letter to Lady Olga, with women things that no man should ever know. Even you, that you are a wife, cannot know these things. They are between me and Olga only.”

“Ah, I see,” he told her seriously. “Then I will gladly seal it, since it contains such important, confidential things.”

“It does, it does.”

“What if We also sealed it with the Emperor’s seal? Then no one anywhere will dare open it for sure.”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Eli,” she hugged him tightly. She had the best brother in the whole world. She’d write that to Olga in her next letter. 

&*&*

Elik stood up once he was certain that everyone had finished with dinner. He glanced at Vasily and he nodded. “This was a delightful dinner, Gentlemen, and My Lady,” he smiled at Irina, “but I must now leave you. You can stay and have more wine, if you wish.”

“Where are you going?” Mark asked him.

He grinned. “To a land full of wonders and mysteries.”

“Excuse me?”

“To the kitchen, of course. The almonds have been soaked, so we must try the recipe now.” Vasily and Grigori nodded at the same time. He smiled at his Guards. “Mina and Osip have agreed to help, and so have…”

“Peter the Tall, Avros, Gennady, Evgeni, Artyom and Filon.”

“May I also assist you?” Mark asked with a very charming smile. 

“Of course. Gentlemen,” he pointed towards the kitchen in the manner of Nikolaj. 

Irina tugged at his sleeve. “I must speak to you,” she whispered. 

He stopped. “Don’t start without me, please.”

“Yes, we can,” Vasily told him. “We need to blanch and peel the soaked almonds first, so we will start with that.”

“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. He found peeling so relaxing. Nathalia had promised to leave the fire in the stove burning for them, so it wouldn’t take them too long to blanch the almonds, but if he finished quickly with whatever Irina wanted, he could be back in time to peel some. 

Mark proceeded to the kitchen, the others following him. As he walked up the stairs with Irina, he heard the door open and Peter asking if it was fine that he had brought some more friends. 

Irina glanced back. “I don’t understand why you like cooking so much.”

“It relaxes me. The way painting and drawing relaxes you.”

“Hm.” 

“What do you want to tell me?”

“In a moment,” she said as she opened the door to her room. “I… Eli, you won’t be mad at me, will you?”

“Why would I be mad?” he asked as he followed her inside. 

“Because…” She went to her desk and took a little box out of a drawer. “I had this made months ago, when we were at Aedley, but it never seemed the right time during the trip to give it to you. His Majesty said I should give it to you after he left, but you’ve been so busy and…” She blushed, “I was busy too, and I forgot.”

He took the box from her. It was beautifully carved out of a dark wood with a pleasant fragrance, but when he opened it, he was touched at Irina’s thoughtfulness. The container was pretty because the contents were so exquisite. A small, golden pendant with rubies and diamonds forming the entwined letters N and E on its surface. “Oh, Irina,” he sighed, smiling. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”

“I… I wanted to have it made since Krzydzov, but the jewellers there told me that it would take at least two weeks, if not three, to have it made, so I had to wait and wait and wait until we were at Aedley,” she said quietly. She found a paper and showed him a drawing, where only the letter N was on the surface of the pendant. “But when His Majesty replied to your letter, I knew this design was wrong, so I asked them to redo it and it was only finished the day before we left for Valentin. And, you know how busy we were during that trip.”

“That was beautiful too, Irina. I wouldn’t have minded it.”

“But I did,” she told him seriously. “Sorry it took me so long to give it to you.”

He took out the chain from the box, passed it through the loop at the top and wore it immediately. “That is fine,” he smiled as he looked at it. He felt a small indentation with his finger and he pressed it. The pendant opened in two and Elik froze. 

Irina looked at him expectantly.

Inside there was a miniature portrait of Nikolaj on one side, clearly done by her. How perfectly it captured His Husband’s handsome features and determined expression. His dark blue eyes and his generous mouth. Ah. How beautiful he was. On the other side, Nikolaj had added a little note: ‘My Most Beloved, I’ll always love you’. Both were behind a protective crystal panel. He felt tears at the corners of his eyes. “Oh, Irina. Thank you.” He hugged her. 

“You won’t start crying, will you?” she asked him with concern. 

“No, no,” he lied. He did feel like crying. He had the best sister in the world, and the best Husband. “You know what? If I start now, I will have some sweet bread ready by the morning, so I can send it to Him. Sweet bread can last for days and it will be almost as good as fresh when he gets it.” He kissed Nikolaj’s portrait and closed it. “I will not take this off me while He is away,” he said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Irina smiled. “And…”

“Yes?”

“When His Majesty gave me that note to put in the locket for you, he said that you have to write a decree giving me two dogs like Sasha as thanks for my services to the Crown.”

He smiled. What services? “Of course.”

“And the decree that grants me the right to be called Husband and give me … I thought I wanted a Wife, but now I think I may want a Husband. Can you write one that says that I will be the Husband, but my partner will be either a Wife or a Husband?”

“Of course, but may I ask what made you change your mind?”

She sighed with an expression he had never seen before on her, but often on several of the Guards, and that could be described as ‘dreamy’. “No.” She sighed again as she sat down. 

Had she fallen in love with one of the Guards? How? And how hadn’t he noticed that she had grown up? She was no longer a child, but was becoming a woman. Ah, young love. He’d read it was wonderful, and he was so glad that Irina got to experience it! 

He still thought she was too young to get married to anyone, though. No, no matter how much she sighed, and no matter how wonderful her intended was, she would only get married after she was an adult. Or even later than that. Sixteen was too young, in his opinion. He hadn’t been ready for love or marriage at sixteen, so why should Irina be?

And who was the lucky man? All the Guards were so wonderful; he couldn’t really blame her. He was just surprised, though; he had never seen her sigh or look like that all these months, even when they were staying under the same roof with the Guards. 

He smiled. Well, he was certain that there was one person currently in his kitchen who knew everything. Or maybe two. “So, now you want a Husband or a Wife?”

She nodded seriously. “But I will still be a Husband. Right?”

“Yes. I will write that decree tomorrow morning, as well as give the order for someone to bring you two dogs like Sasha. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Ivanhof with me, and choose which dogs you want?”

“No. I must stay here.” 

“As you wish.”

“I do.”

He went and hugged her again. “This is perfect, Irina. Thank you.”

She grinned. “You’re welcome. Now go, I must write to Olga.”

“More confidential things?”

“Yes, and very. Only she and I can know the secrets of our hearts.”

He pretended to sigh with sorrow. “How you used to trust me. Now Lady Olga has taken that special place in your heart.”

She stared at him. “I do trust you. I just…”

“I know,” he grinned. “Some things you can only share with your best friend. I know.”

She smiled gratefully. “Brother? Did you ever keep any secrets from me, and shared them with your friends only?”

He nodded. 

“Can you tell me one?”

“No.”

“Eli,” she whined.

“No,” he laughed as he ran out of her room and hurried downstairs. Oh, he couldn’t wait to see if they would manage to make those cookies. If they did, he’d send some to His Husband!


	45. Chapter 45

Vanya wiped the sweat off his forehead. The Quhjani were mad, completely and totally mad, he thought as he gave Efim the plank he’d been carrying. 

“Don’t look like that, Brother,” Efim told him with a smile. “Last time we had to build these steps, it was in the middle of the winter. This time it’s better.”

He used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from behind his nape. “I guess so,” he grinned. “Right now, though, I wouldn’t mind it if it were a little colder.”

Efim laughed, slapped him on the back and went to put the plank in its place. Mad. 

“Can I help?” Roman’s voice boomed from the end of the field.

“What are you doing here?” Vanya shouted at him as he approached him. 

Roman shook his head. “It’s… I can’t wait till we leave.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked his cousin, and led him towards the trees that separated the area of the clearing from the rest of the town. “Sorry,” he shouted towards Efim and the others putting together the steps for the Council and the other rich Quhjani so they could look up at them as they got married. “Family emergency.” At Jedlowa, everything could be excused if it was a ‘family emergency’.

“Sure, sure,” Efim waved him away as he started nailing the plank down. “Shout if you need help.”

And everyone took care of everyone. They were mad, but he liked them. “Well?” he asked as he pulled Roman down and they sat under the deep shade of some oak trees. “I thought you were helping Stepan pack for the journey.”

“I thought so too,” Roman sighed. “But every time he puts something aside as not necessary, his Mother starts telling the story of the item and why we must take it with us. As for Granny… She just looks around with such a sad and lost expression that Stepan is about to start crying every time he passes in front of her.”

“He’s a very sensitive fellow; you wouldn’t tell just by looking at him.”

“What do you mean?” Roman frowned and glared, clearly insulted on his husband’s behalf. 

“Well, blacksmith? Fairly big guy?” He wasn’t burly, actually, but he wasn’t as slender as some of the guys either. He was kind of big, and he was strong. 

“Why? Can’t big guys be sensitive?” Roman growled at him as he towered over him. 

“I didn’t mean that,” he said defensively. “Fuck, Cousin, I know big guys can be sensitive. Just look at Evgeni. He’s taller and broader than Stepan, but he is the most sensitive of us all. Between us, I think he’s still thinking of Thomas.”

“What? That Valentinois fop?”

He nodded. “Did you see him get together with anyone since then? Well, yes, there was that cute Chevalier at Sorain, but he only spent a couple of hours with him, and I don’t think they did anything together. I think he missed the way Thomas spoke. You know, that High Valentinois of Court.”

Roman laughed. “Compared to some others, that is practically the same as being celibate for the last few months. How many short marriages did you have? And Maxim… Oh, Maxim!” He rolled his eyes upwards with a roar. 

He nodded. He’d been married six, no, seven times through their journey, but compared to Maxim? Ah, Maxim! “I so want to see Maxim’s Book of Purple one day and count all the names there.”

“I would bet that the Young Lord hired Dr Christensen just for him.”

Vanya grinned. They were all pretty careful, but having a Doctor or two just for them had not been a bad idea. “Could be.”

Roman chuckled. His expression fell the next moment. “What are we doing, Vanya? Granny looks so lost, and Mother clearly is torn between staying here and facing the winter alone, because she’s too proud to rely on others, or coming with us, and losing everything she knows. What are we doing?”

Vanya squeezed his arm. 

“You’re so lucky Sana’s parents have Petr to look after them,” Roman sighed. 

“You’re not the only one with this problem,” Onisim told them from one of the branches over their heads, making them look up. He really seemed to melt against the leaves, so cleverly he was hidden with his green shirt and breeches, and his blond hair catching the sun. “Yuliana’s mother only has her after the death of her brother Anton at Kiskun. Yuliana is torn between coming with us or staying behind with her mother, even though her mother says that Yuliana must follow me.” He sighed. “I want her to follow me.”

Roman nodded miserably. 

“I could name the others too, but the one who has the biggest problem is Ignat. Milos, his fiancé, was raised by his Granny, who she’s half-blind and half-deaf and…”

“Granny Panya?” Roman asked him.

Onisim nodded. “Yes. There’s no question: they can’t leave Granny here alone, but if you think Granny Fenya is in a bad state, that’s because you haven’t seen Granny Panya. She hasn’t left her bed since they told her the news. She just cries there, refusing to eat, and saying that she wants to die rather than leave her home.”

Vanya smiled at Roman, even though he really felt sorry for Granny Panya and Granny Fenya. Granny Fenya was always so kind to him. “See? Others have bigger problems than you.”

“Yes, but… I don’t know what to do, and I can’t stand seeing Granny so miserable or Stepan trying not to cry.”

“Hm.” Vanya jumped up. “What if we all lived together?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Onisim told him before Roman had the chance to say the same.

“No, no, hear me out. I don’t mean, all together in the same house, although,” he looked at Roman, “I still want all of us to live together, but, what if we all lived in the same area?”

“You’re still an idiot,” Onisim continued. “You haven’t even visited me once because we live on opposite sides of the capital, how do you expect us to live together now?”

“We could…. I don’t know, buy plots of land and build neighbouring houses?”

Roman rolled his eyes backwards and nodded with Onisim. “We’d need to sell our houses first, assuming that everyone has a house to sell, find enough land, and then also have enough money to build our new homes.”

“Foka is a second son, and Evtikh a third. No way their parents would sell their homes for them.”

Vanya had to agree. His parents probably wouldn’t like the idea of selling their home either. He hoped they could be persuaded to tear it down and build a new, bigger one, but selling it? “We could start putting money aside to buy a big plot of land? All of us? Collectively? Then, one day, we can all…”

“By the time we have put enough money aside for such a plot, our children will have their own children. I mean, look at the Majors. How many years did it take them to buy their land?” Onisim snorted. “Vanya, your head’s in the clouds, as always.”

His friend had a point. It had taken the Majors years before they… Of course! Vanya grinned. Yes, it was, but so was someone else’s. Someone who could help them. “Yes, it is, because that’s where dreams are.” He started running towards the centre. “I’ll see you later. Don’t lose hope. I know what must be done,” he shouted at them. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Cousin,” Roman laughed. “Come back here.”

“No,” he kept running. He knew what to do. Kind of. Sort of. He did have an idea. But he knew who would help make it better. 

He ran until he was at His Majesty’s house. “The Maj.. Count?” he panted once he was inside and in front of Sergei, who was guarding the staircase. 

Sergei looked him up and down. “You’re sweaty and you stink,” he whispered. 

“I was working and I have no time to lose. Please, I must speak to him.”

“He’s with Count Rasoulin.” 

“Please?”

Sergei gave him a look. “Well, he has been up there for at least an hour, so maybe he will appreciate the distraction,” he told him as he let him pass. 

“Thanks, I owe you one,” he grinned as he ran up the stairs.

“Yes, yes,” Sergei snorted. 

“What’s up with him?” he heard Savin ask, as he was coming back from wherever he’d been.

Sergei made a noise between a snort and a huff. “Vanya being Vanya?” 

He ignored them. He winked at Lev and Gillis and knocked on the door of the bedroom that the Count was using as his office. 

“Enter,” Count Rasoulin said in his usual annoyed tone.

He opened the door and smiled very respectfully. “Captain, I must speak to you. It is urgent. Please? The happiness of the Guards depends on you.”

Count Rasoulin snorted. “Please, do not resist such a plea for the sake of accounts,” he almost laughed. “We can deal with them later.”

“Thank you.” The moment the Captain was out, and closed the door behind him, he grinned at Vanya. “You are becoming as dramatic as…,” he gestured slightly towards the Chancellor’s office. “The happiness of the Guards depends on me?”

Lev and Gillis looked at Vanya, Lev even moving a little forward so he could see better. 

“Fine,” the Captain as he went closer to them. “What is it, Vanya?”

“We need to borrow money.”

As expected by the Captain, he didn’t look one bit surprised. It took a lot to shock that man. “Who is ‘we’ and ‘why’, before I ask ‘from whom’?”

“We is all the Guards getting married to Quhjani in two days, why is because I think we should all live together and…”

Lev guffawed. “Not that again,” he cut him off before he could finish speaking. 

“What is ‘that’?” the Captain asked patiently. 

“Vanya wants to build this big house,” Gillis laughed, “for him and Sana, Roman and Stepan, and all their family. How many again?” 

“Twenty-two, but we can make it work.”

Lev started chuckling again. “So,” he laughed loudly, “for how many will this house be?”

“It won’t be a house,” Vanya answered him, “it will be a village, for all of us.” Lev and Gillis stopped laughing and looked at him with the same interest as the Captain. “If we had banks, like they have at the West, we could try borrowing money from there to buy a plot of land that would be big enough for all of us to have our own houses in the same area. Since we don’t have any,” he turned towards the Captain again, “Can you help me and the others write a petition to borrow money from the Chancellery? Even if we sold everything, we can’t afford a plot big enough for us, and you are so good at writing reports, Captain. Can you, please, help us, Sir?”

The door of the Chancellor’s office opened and the Chancellor glared at them, their Young Lord looking at them curiously from behind his back. “Do you have any idea how thin the walls are in this house?”

Lev and Gillis jumped back into their place on either side of the door and pretended not to see anything.

Behind the Chancellor, their Young Lord looked embarrassed for a moment, but then he shrugged with a little amused huff. 

“Count, how do you allow this lack of discipline?” the Chancellor continued, glancing at the Guards on duty.

“Technically, they never left their designated position outside the door,” the Captain said, calm and unafraid. 

“Then, everything is fine, right?” Their Young Lord interfered. 

The Chancellor sighed. “Why are you out of uniform?” he asked him curiously.

Vanya saluted him. “My duty today is help constructing the platform so that the Elders can have a good view, so it was difficult to carry planks while in uniform, Sir.”

“Ah, I see. How is that going?” His Majesty asked as he moved in front of the Chancellor and studied him. 

“Very well, Your Majesty.”

Their Young Lord smiled broadly. “And what brings you here, since you were supposed to be there? Nathalia’s filled buns will be out of the oven soon. Is that it?” 

“Private Gratchanov requests permission for the Guards to build a village on Imperial land,” the Captain said immediately before he could reply. 

Vanya stared at him. That wasn’t what he had asked!

“Why? Why do you need a village?” The Chancellor asked, looking both surprised and amused and ready to say no. 

“Well, it’s because we are not leaving Jedlowa alone, Sir. I am lucky, because Sana has a brother who will look after their parents, but Stepan can’t leave either his Mama or his Granny behind. It was fine for a few months in the spring, but he can’t do it in the winter. He is not the only one; almost all of us, who are getting married in two days, will be taking our in-laws with us.”

The Chancellor looked slightly horrified. Their Young Lord seemed pleasantly surprised. 

Vanya took a deep breath and continued. “Right now, we all live in different neighbourhoods or villages around the Capital. So, when we go back, Granny Fenya and Stepan’s Mama who will live with Roman and me, will have no one to talk to. And they are all so scared of being alone in the capital. Granny Panya wants to die instead of leaving, and Granny Fenya…” he sighed. “Even Stepan’s mother is scared, and she’s…” He shut his mouth before saying that she was as scary as Major Lesnev, not their Major, his husband. “Anyway, if we had a village, the Grannies could meet each other, and all the Mamas can teach us how to cook. Granny Fenya said I must learn, or my wife will not be pleased with me.”

Their Young Lord nodded. “What a wonderful idea,” he grinned. “Indeed, you must learn how to cook in order to please your wife, and no teacher is better than Mama. Chancellor, do you think the Guards could use one of the areas that His Most Generous Majesty gave me…,” he paused, looking a little awkward, “you know, as my morning gift?”

The Chancellor frowned for a moment as he thought. “The closest is three hours away from Ivanhof,” he said.

The Young Lord looked disappointed. “So…”

The Chancellor and the Captain shared a look, making Vanya wonder if Cousin Vasya and Cousin Mark could come out of their hiding places. They were just as trustworthy and good at keeping secrets as the Captain and the Chancellor, but a lot more fun. 

“Your Majesty,” the Chancellor said with a kind smile, “You may reward the Guards with any land close to Ivanhof you desire.”

The Young Lord looked like he would start singing with excitement at the idea that he could reward them. 

“It should be big enough for all of them, though,” the Captain added. “To give a good example to everyone that we can all live together regardless of where we come from, or what we believe.”

The Chancellor nodded. “That was a brilliant idea, Private Gratchanov.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “I… well, it wasn’t…”

The Captain looked at him, and he shut up. If the Captain wanted the others to think this was all his idea, what could he do but obey? But, really, the Captain deserved as much credit as he did, if not more.

“Wait, we will all get houses?” Lev gasped. 

“Of course,” the Chancellor said. “For services rendered to the Crown. You have been looking after His Majesty most diligently for the last months, haven’t you? Isn’t it time you got rewarded?” 

Lev opened his mouth but didn’t speak. 

The Chancellor smirked. “If that is all, Private Gratchanov, you may continue with your duties.”

“Yes, Sir, Yes,” he saluted them and turned around. 

“Count, a word?” he heard the Chancellor say as he started going down the stairs. Oh, how he hoped the Chancellor wouldn’t rebuke the Captain for letting Lev and Gillis move. Well, he’d find out by the end of the day. For now, he had to tell the others that some days, even dreams that were in the clouds could come down to earth.

*&*&

_My Heart, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_I am well, and I hope the same for you._

_Did you remember to eat your lunch yesterday? I so wish I had had time to make it myself. Did anyone remember to pack some lunch for you today? You made me worry so much when we rode back from Yastba. You forgot to even drink water, let alone eat._

_Ah, I am such a nagging wife. I’m sorry. I’m just worried._

_The Chancellor is teaching me how to do things properly and he is so patient with me and all my questions. And today, Count Lesnev (V) taught me when I should be rewarding people for services to the Crown, and what that means._

_My Heart? I think I went over my yearly budget and I worry that, even though the Chancellor said that I could, I may have overstepped my boundaries. I will tell you everything!_

_I gave the area of Plakhnov, to the east of Ivanhof, to the Guards so they could build houses for their families (also paid by Us). The Chancellor said it was within my rights to reward them for their diligent services, but I would have felt happier if you had approved of my decision instead of me telling you what I have done, leaving you no option but to accept it._

_If it displeases you, I will give you back the worth of the land and the houses as soon as I can. No matter how long it takes me, I will do it._

_As I wrote to you yesterday, fifteen of them are getting married to Quhjani women, and three to men. What none of them had told me, though, was that they have decided to also take their Quhjani relatives with them back to the Capital, when they had no other Quhjani relatives to take care of them. Something that made me have such confused emotions._

_I felt so happy that they could see my people as Our people, the way you taught me to see the Bosilik. It was their own idea (or rather Vanya’s) that they all live together, without being divided into Bosilik and Quhjani. How I hope that by marrying and living together, Our Guards will form the first step for One Great Land of Ours, where we are all United and we Have a Common Vision for Our Future._

_I was also selfishly happy that the bill regarding the military reforms is not drafted yet, since under that, almost all of them would have been eligible for retirement in order to take care of invalid and elderly dependents. I do not have to lose my Choir yet!_

_Yet, at the same time, I felt how important it is to finalise the bill about the military reforms. I may say that I am happy that my Guards will stay together, but if they left to start their own lives and have their families at whichever place they liked, I would also feel so happy and proud of them. As soon as Duke Okdranov is back from Oerestand, I will start working on the bill with him. The Chancellor has already instructed me a bit on the importance of delegating, so I have started looking into who might be into that committee._

_So, I was happy for them, unworthily happy for myself, and sad that the reforms are still a matter for the future. It was all so confusing, and I am still confused._

_I’ll stop here before I start saying again how much I miss you. You must think I am nagging when I write it…._

_Count Lesnev (V) and I are still trying to recreate the almond cookies we had at Sorain. If we succeed this time, I will send you some with this letter._

_Your ever-loving Husband,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. I miss you so much!_

Elik finished writing, folded and sealed it and put it inside a drawer. Then he walked out of his room. “Pieterjan, Leonid, it’s time to try again. Those cookies will not defeat us!”

He knocked on Mark’s door. “Chancellor, we are going to try making those cookies again. Will you join us?”

Mark opened the door with a smile. “It depends. Who else will be joining us?” he asked Leonid. 

“Filon, Artyom, Osip, Evgeni, Peter the Tall, Peter the Short, and Fyodor.”

“And Vasily and Grigori too,” Elik told him as he started walking towards the kitchen. “Vasily is furious that all his attempts last night ended in failure.”

“And Grigori probably sees it as a competition that he has to win,” Mark grinned. 

“Although, it is not a competition really, is it? It’s our efforts and our work,” Elik said. 

“Of course, Your Majesty.” He looked more amused than usual. 

“No, I’m Elik now. And I really need to make those cookies. If we succeed, I will send some to His Majesty,” he smiled. “He liked them a lot. Although, he also liked that cream pudding we had. In fact, he liked everything we had at Sorain. Does this mean we should change the food at the palace when we are back?”

“If Your Majesty wishes, that can be done.”

Was that an answer? “I see. You know what would be marvellous? If we could find a land suitable for growing pistachios. I prefer them to almonds,” he smiled. 

“Ekaterina also prefers them. Once, before you arrived at Ivanhof, the Ambassador of the Great Selivid Monarch had offered us a special dessert they do in his native land: ground pistachios between very thin layers of dough and then drenched in a sweet syrup. No matter how much we tried, we could not get the recipe.”

“Not even Vasily?” he gasped.

“Vasily had been busy at the time.” Mark smiled. “But you are right; if there was one person who could have managed to get the recipe, that would be him.” 

He nodded. He was certain of that. He stopped in the middle of the stairs. Just as he’d expected, there was Vasily and Grigori, both holding the mortars and pestles they had borrowed from Elder Soltukof, but why was Roman with them? 

“Roman?” Wasn’t he and Stepan getting ready for their trip? In their place, he’d be making sure that everything he couldn’t take with him, was secure and safe in the cellar. He wouldn’t have time for cookies. 

Roman gave him an awkward grin. “I had swapped places with Igor for the night shift this morning because,” he stopped, glancing at Mark. “Well…”

“We’re all friends tonight,” Mark said. “Tell them, Vasya.”

Grigori smirked. “We might as well make this official, that we’re all friends after dinner, since that’s what we do every night.”

“What an excellent idea,” Elik grinned. “Wouldn’t we all like that? Yes, no more titles and ranks after dinner from now on.” He hurried down. “It will be just like when we were traveling. Only we won’t have parties anymore, because we are at war, and that would be completely inappropriate. We will… bake foods and sell them to raise money for the army and get cannons or something.”

“That is…” Mark mumbled behind him as the Guards that were in the room cheered. 

“Yes?”

“A surprisingly good idea,” Mark said. “I am not sure if you will manage to raise enough money for many cannons, but even if you could raise enough for one, that would be a good thing.”

Peter the Tall raised his hand and Elik nodded. “At Aedley, they frequently held auctions for artworks,” he said. “Some sold for extravagant amounts of money. Some not so much,” he grinned.

“So?”

“Maybe, instead of selling goods made by Our Own Most High and Gracious Majesty, we could auction them. Surely every noble would compete for the honour to buy bread made by Your Majesty.”

Elik snorted. “That is a good idea,” he said as they all went into the kitchen, “but I think people would prefer pies made by Our Elite Guards.”

Leonid shook his head as he went to the cellar to bring out the rest of the almonds that they had shelled the previous night.

Vasily and Mark looked at him with disappointment. Grigori frowned. 

“We could try it,” he said as he took out a mortar and pestle and handed it to Roman. “Perhaps if we asked His Majesty to write the announcement for the auction? But if I had to choose between a pie made by Vasily, or a bread made by me, I would go for the pie.”

“Because you don’t have pies like Vasily’s in Quhjan,” Grigori smiled. “I would go for Your Majesty’s bread. We don’t have this kind of bread at Bosilke.”

“I wonder if the Ladies would like getting involved.” He sighed. “I really had so many ideas on how to amuse them, but now that we are at war, everything will have to wait.”

“Please, find other ideas that do not involve cooking,” Mark groaned. “Ekaterina is unable to cook, and I’d rather not die of poisoning.”

“Everyone can learn how to cook,” Elik grinned as Leonid came out. 

“Ekaterina won’t. I would bet with you,” Mark smirked, “But she would be too offended when she found out.” 

“Perhaps you should learn to cook for her?” Roman asked very politely. “I… I really want to learn how to make almond cookies because they are Stepan’s favourites, and I want him to be pleased with me.”

Mark snorted. “If I cooked for Ekaterina to make her pleased with me, she’d faint. From horror.”

Elik and Roman grinned. “I’m certain you exaggerate,” Elik told him.

Mark shook his head. 

Leonid started distributing almonds to everyone with a mortar and pestle. “So, will you all live together with Vanya and Sana when you are back?” he asked Roman. 

“We think so. I mean, I thought that wanting a village for all of us was a silly idea, but if that worked out, then we can all live together,” he smiled happily. “Granny Fenya is so excited. She says, she never left Jedlowa, but now? She can’t wait to go to the Capital together with all her friends!”

“I think it’s a marvellous idea,” Elik smiled. He wished he could ask them if he could visit them, but he didn’t want to seem so needy. 

Mark cleared his throat. “Would you mind if I came back after you finish beating those almonds into submission? I don’t have the instruments to help, and, frankly? The noise is a bit annoying.”

“Of course.” 

Mark bowed a little and hurried out of the kitchen. 

Vasily and Grigori shared a look as they started grinding the almonds, while the two Peters grinned. Elik nodded. He too had noticed that Artyom and Filon had stayed out of the kitchen for the second night in a row, even though they had said that they had come to help. A moment later, they all heard Mark, Filon and Artyom run up the stairs. 

Leonid tried not to laugh too loudly. Evgeni covered his face with his hands, trying to hide his own laughter.

“At least if they start now, they will be back by the time we really need help with beating the egg whites,” Grigori smirked. 

“Like they did last night,” Elik agreed. “Vasily, I would like to ask you something,” he said loudly enough to be heard over the noise of the pestles hitting the mortars. “Can we go outside for a moment? Mark is right; the noise can be annoying.”

Vasily nodded at him. He and Grigori stood up and followed him out into the garden. 

“It’s about my sister,” he told them. “I think she likes someone. One of the Guards,” he whispered. 

Vasily stared at him. He looked all serious and revealing nothing. Grigori behind him seemed as calm as a statue. 

“I am happy for her, I really am, but she is still too young for getting seriously involved with anyone. Can you find out whom she likes so I can talk to him?”

Vasily continued staring at him. “The long answer is long, so I will use a short one. No.”

“Why not?”

“Because, Her Excellency should be allowed to experience the wonder of young love. It is a love most marvellous.”

Elik began realising why Mark had teased Vasily about the ‘love is marvellous’ lecture. If love was Vasily’s answer to every question, that could become a bit frustrating. Vasily, however, had no right to tell him how to deal with his own sister.

“Besides,” Vasily suddenly smiled at him, “I already know whom she likes, and I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. Her Excellency has learned not only the marvel of young love, but also the disappointment of love not reciprocated.”

“Excuse me?” How had Vasily known what he’d meant to ask? And how had he known already what he himself had only discovered that evening? Really, was His Husband certain there were no witches? How did Vasily know Everything? 

Grigori nodded. “Her Excellency’s love is not returned. She knows it, and has accepted it.”

“Oh, I see. Can you tell me who was it?”

“Your Majesty, I would never betray a Lady’s confidence,” Vasily told him seriously. “But if she were to like anyone else, then, rest assured, I would have a talk with her intended before Your Majesty did,” he said.

“And I would check his background, and his family,” Grigori added.

“Ah, I see,” he mumbled. “Really?”

“Of course.” Vasily smiled. “You would need all the facts before having a talk with whomever Her Excellency finds... interesting, wouldn’t you?”

“Really, how do you know Everything?”

Grigori snorted. 

“Your Majesty? Elik? We really need to teach you how to play cards,” Vasily told him softly. “Properly. Your expression hides nothing.”

“Really?”

They both nodded.

“And because I really know everything, I know that we should go back inside now and continue with the recipe. I will make those cookies by dawn, or…”

“Or, we’ll soak more almonds and wait until tomorrow night to try again,” Grigori smiled at him as he turned around. 

“How right you are,” Vasily laughed as he followed him back inside. “What would I do without you?” he whispered very softly. 

“What would I do without you?” Grigori answered him in the same tone. 

Elik smiled as he looked at them. They truly were one mind in two bodies. How he wished that he and His Husband also became that. 

&*&*

Mark tried to push Filon away. “There is a bed on the other side of the door,” he told him, breaking the kiss. 

Artyom continued hugging him from behind. “I like doors,” he whispered sultrily in his ear. 

Mark groaned and pushed his cock against Filon. Fuck, these Guards! “Boys,” he smirked, “a little patience.”

Filon rubbed his clothed dick against his. “Only because you insist,” he moaned, leaning forward for another kiss. He trapped Mark’s lower lip between his and sucked it as he reached behind so as to open the door. 

“Took you long enough,” Maxim snorted from the bed. 

Mark froze. “You?”

Maxim was naked and already hard, stroking himself. “Thin walls should be mandatory in all houses,” he told them. “I could listen to you three moan all day.”

“What are you doing here?” Mark asked him. 

“Am I unwanted?” He stood up and showed off his lithe, toned body for a few moments. “Fine,” he grinned, picking up his clothes from the side of the bed. “I can go.”

“I didn’t say that,” Mark said before turning towards Filon and Artyom. They shook their heads, grinning. “I was just surprised.”

Maxim smiled sweetly. “A good surprise, I hope?”

He looked at him well. Oh, yes. He nodded. “A very good one…. Wait. Is this because you’ve never slept with a duke?”

“Well…” Maxim laughed. “There is that, and because I heard this duke is a bit of a challenge.” He licked his lips. “I like challenges.”

Artyom pulled up Mark’s shirt and Filon reached for Mark’s breeches and started undoing the laces. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

“Maxim wants to see the goods,” Artyom said before nibbing on his earlobe.

“We have to show him,” Filon said as he nuzzled him 

Mark smiled as he let them take out his cock. 

Maxim’s eyes widened with delight as he saw him. He fell to his knees in front of Mark with a loud and deep groan. “Brothers, I see a marvellous thing,” he smiled happily, looking up and reaching for Mark’s cock. His cock bobbed against his stomach, full of enthusiasm. 

Artyom and Filon nodded, grinning like mad. 

“Isn’t it?” Filon said with awe.

“And he can use it,” Artyom said admiringly. 

“But this is still between us, right?” Mark asked as Maxim started stroking him with both hands and the most reverent look in his eyes. 

“What happens in the Unit, stays in the Unit,” Artyom smiled.

“That was not what I asked.”

“It is between us,” Maxim reassured him. “And maybe my friends who would like to see this marvellous thing?” His lips closed around the tip of Mark’s cock, soft and firm and wet and sucking him expertly.

Ah, fuck it. “As long as it stays in the Unit,” he moaned as Artyom and Filon started removing his coat.

“It won’t even make it to the reports. The unofficial ones,” Artyom grinned.

“Fine, then. I am at your disposal.”

Maxim looked up with a curious expression.

“Yes, the Unit’s disposal,” he smiled. 

“Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah,” Filon and Artyom shouted at the same time. 

Ah, these Guards! 

Elik was pretty, and was ridiculously attractive to him when he lowered his eyes and looked like he needed to be spanked for his unruly behaviour, and then petted and comforted and forgiven. As for the way he moaned and shuddered when he was being fucked? That was beautiful. But Elik was his best friend’s most precious husband, as well as his friend who didn’t want to share himself with anyone but his husband. 

Vasya was right; why court trouble when he could have The Guards? 

Ah, the Guards! They were more fun, they didn’t need persuading, they didn’t mope or sulk, and they liked to share. He wondered… “Boys, how do you feel about ropes? Or spanking?” He’d bring up the whips another time, he decided. 

Maxim stopped sucking him. His eyes shone. “Marvellous,” he shouted loudly, before taking his cock in his mouth again and taking it and taking it. 

Filon shrugged. “I’ll try anything once.”

Artyom frowned. “I’m not sure, but why not? Could be fun.”

Ah, the Guards!


	46. Chapter 46

Thomas felt like his heart would leap out of his chest. It was late afternoon, and he’d been riding since before dawn, but he was finally at Jedlowa, where Their Majesties should be, according to the reports he had received. And Evgeni. 

How he longed to see his sweet giant again. He wondered if he was still his. If he had the right to think of him as his. It had been months since they had seen each other, and Evgeni had not written to him once, despite knowing very well where he was. Unlike Evgeni, who roamed free, he was stuck at the same place. 

Soon, he told himself. Soon, he would see Evgeni again, and he would know. And knowledge would lead to wisdom, he hoped. Why was he still thinking of this man who had only shared his bed for a few days and then hadn’t written once? How stupid was he? Why had he opened his heart to that man? 

Jedlowa was much bigger than he’d imagined, and its houses neat and small, compared to the palaces and buildings he was used to, but with a certain picturesque charm. And it was full of Guards, walking among the people with a sense of purpose and excitement, utterly dashing in their blue uniforms. It was the easiest thing to stop the first one he saw and ask him where His Majesty was. Much, much easier than he’d expected. Although, the Guard had looked at him strangely, called him by his name, and asked him what he was doing there. But at least he gave him directions. 

The directions he received led him to a big house by Jedlowa’s standards, with two Guards standing by its door. He jumped off his horse, wondering where he would tie it, when the Guard at the left frowned. “Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur? What are you doing here?”

He didn’t recognise him either, but the man clearly did. “I must see His Majesty. It is urgent.”

“He’s busy. Stop holding on the reins. I’ll deal with your horse. You may go in.”

The Guard on the right opened the door, gestured at two Guards that were sitting down playing cards, and let Thomas in.

Thomas nodded and hurried inside. “His Majesty? Please?” 

Both Guards stood up. “Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur? What are you doing here?”

He didn’t recognise them either, and he felt strangely embarrassed that they did. “I must see His Majesty. Now.”

The tallest of the two nodded and started walking up the stairs so fast he was practically running. That suited him fine. “His Majesty is busy right now, but the Chancellor will see you.”

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Erm,” the Guard mumbled as they stepped on the corridor leading to a series of rooms. “Obviously you’re here on official business, but will you stay a while?”

He nodded. “I hope so. Is…” Before he could ask where Evgeni was, the Guard knocked on the second door to the left. 

“Enter.”

“Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur, Valentin Ambassador to Ustvela, to see His Majesty, Sir,” the Guard shouted as he opened the door. In Valentinois, for his sake. 

The Chancellor nodded, said something in Bosilik that had the Guard saluting before leaving them alone. 

He looked around for a moment. There was a closet and a bed with a colourful blanket on one side, a wooden screen on the other, and a desk with two chairs facing it near the window. The Chancellor was behind it and remained seated. He was as tall and blond as the Guards, with light blue eyes and a face that would have been even more handsome if he weren’t studying him like he was a specimen in a collection of curiosities. “Have a seat,” he said as he gestured to the two chairs. “Welcome to Bosilke, Ambassador. What brings you here?”

He looked at the Chancellor. “This.” He took out a packet of letters from his satchel and put them on the desk. 

The Chancellor frowned suddenly. “You know, you look like you need to freshen up. There’s a wash basin there,” he said, pointing at the wooden folding screen, its panels delicately painted with trees and birds. It looked like a prized object from the Bright Empire, something to adorn a Lord’s or a Lady’s drawing room, and was completely out of place in that room with the plain, rustic furniture. 

“Excuse me?”

“You can get take a few minutes to freshen up until His Majesty joins us.”

It was the strangest reception he had ever had, but he wouldn’t mind washing his face and taking a piss. If the Chancellor did not mind, why should he? “Thanks.” He stood up and went there, shaking his head a little the moment he was behind it. Only at Bosilke would something as precious as a screen from the Bright Empire be used to hide the chamber pot, the wash basin and the jug of water for cleaning up. All made of gilded silver of all things – gilded silver! There was also a tub for washing, filled with water that smelled of chamomile and roses. How extravagant and decadent these people were? 

“You can use whatever you want,” the Chancellor told him in an amused voice. “Tell me, did you bring any court clothes?”

“No.” He had been in too great a hurry to pack anything but a few essential things. 

He heard a strange noise from the other room, then the Chancellor striding across the room, and opening the door, barking something in Bosilik. “You, get washed. Now. I will find something for you to wear, and the tailor will make the adjustments once you are clean. We have no time to lose.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a special day. Nineteen of the Guards are getting married, and two couples have decided to renew their vows. You can’t show up at the wedding like this,” he shouted at him, sounding irritated. “What are you waiting for?” he clapped his hands. “Do your business and get washed. It’s a good thing the weather is still warm and there’s no need to heat the water again.”

Thomas froze for a moment, but instead of arguing, he decided to obey. Truly, he had never heard of any diplomat ever being received like this. Once he was back, he would have such an interesting story to tell. He undid his breeches and started peeing. 

“Where are you staying?” The Chancellor asked him a moment later.

“No idea,” he said loudly, as to be heard over the inelegant noise of his urine hitting the chamber pot. “I was going to look for accommodation as soon as I finished talking to you.”

“Hm. We will find you somewhere to stay, Your Excellency. We may be barbarians, but we are hospitable ones.”

He grinned. “I’ve never seen barbarians with washing tubs in their bedrooms.”

“Wait till you come to the Empire, then. We have running water there,” the Chancellor laughed. 

He finished and started getting undressed. “We also have running water.”

“In your bathrooms? I think not.”

“In your bathrooms? Really?”

“Really,” the Chancellor laughed. 

As he slipped into the tub and started washing himself quickly with a cloth, he heard the door opening again, and the Chancellor speaking to someone in Bosilik again. 

The language sounded harsh to him, but it would probably sound beautiful from Evgeni’s lips. What he was doing? 

Whoever was talking to the Chancellor sounded deferential. Was this the tailor? He ignored them. Really, what a story he would tell when he was back. That the Bosilik had the strangest court of them all was no exaggeration; it was fact! 

He heard footsteps again. They were coming closer and closer. A moment later, he saw the Chancellor’s hands put a bundle of clothes on the floor for him. “These should fit you somewhat,” he snorted. “Ah.” He continued speaking in Bosilik, sounding both amused and apologetic as someone started walking into the Chancellor’s room. 

The newcomer replied to the Chancellor in a soft, familiar murmur. It was the Consort! But where was the Emperor? They were both supposed to be at Jedlowa, according to his reports. He finished washing, dried himself as quickly as he could, and got dressed. 

When he got out, feeling refreshed and still bemused by the situation, he saw that the Chancellor was again behind his desk, and the Consort was sitting on a chair close to him, looking very confused. “Your Excellency? What are you doing here?”

It seemed like everyone was going to ask him that. He made to go towards the chair.

“No, don’t sit,” the Chancellor snapped. “It suits you better than I thought, but, as I told Master Piotr, we have a sartorial emergency.” He continued in Bosilik, turning slightly towards the man in a long tunic and breeches who was waiting by the door with a respectful expression. Behind him were two young lads, clearly his assistants. 

He stayed still as the tailor and his assistants started looking at him and pinning the clothes so they could take them in and shorten them.

“Well, what are you doing here?” the Chancellor asked him.

He pointed to the bundle of letters he had placed on the desk, and glanced at the tailor, and the still open door. 

“How do you find Jedlowa?”

“It is a very beautiful place, Your Majesty.”

“It is, isn’t it? And it’s so beautiful in the summer.”

He nodded. 

“I hope you will stay a while,” the Consort smiled, and his eyes shone. 

“I hope so too. I heard there is a group wedding today?”

“Yes, indeed,” the Consort answered with great excitement. 

A pretty young woman walked into the office/bedroom, bringing a tray with a teapot and cups, but also a cup with fragrant coffee and a covered bowl. He sighed happily at the welcome scent. 

“Thank you, Maria,” the Chancellor told her.

A second later the tailor also stopped fussing around him. He said something in Bosilik, and the Chancellor nodded. “He needs to take the clothes to make the alterations. You can wear that while he works,” he said pointing at a dressing gown laid out on the bed. 

He nodded, picked it up, went behind the screen and got undressed. The gown was so soft, the silk as good as anything they had at Valentin, the deep purple of the garment and the embroidery of the dragon in the central emblem again betraying its origin in the Bright Empire. He put it over his shirt and walked out again. 

This time, the Chancellor let him have a seat, and some coffee. Coffee! 

“You must also try the cookies and tell us what you think,” the Consort said as he lifted the lid off the bowl, revealing seemingly perfectly-made almond biscuits.

The Chancellor nodded, and looked at him as expectantly as the Consort. 

He picked one up and bit into it. It was crunchy on the outside, with a slightly soft centre, and tasted of almonds and roses. “These are as good as the biscuits at Sorain. In fact, it tastes just like the royal almond biscuits.” How had they gotten the recipe? That was one of the best-kept secrets at Valentin. 

The Chancellor and the Consort grinned happily at each other. 

He finished his coffee, thinking that no one would ever believe him if he said that he had had coffee while wearing the Chancellor’s own dressing gown together with the Imperial Consort and the Chancellor of the Bosilke Empire. Nor that he was having biscuits made with a recipe stolen from the Royal Kitchens that, from the joyful expressions on both his hosts, were most likely made by their own hands. Even if his friends and colleagues were able to believe that he’d been ordered to wash before talking, and that the Chancellor had given him an outfit suitable for court functions, they would never believe that! 

“Now, you may tell Us,” the Consort told him the moment he put his cup down. 

“About a month ago, King George of Oerestand died of his illness, and Prince Fredrik came to Ustvela with five regiments of men from Rodtal. King Francis gave him use of several of his warships, in exchange for the island of Kogere.”

The Chancellor snorted. “I know.”

“What you don’t know is that Prince Anton tried to persuade his father not to break his alliance with the Bosilke Empire for the sake of Fredrik. When his words failed, he tried to stage a coup, and failed. Since then, he has been kept prisoner at the Castle of Svjetlski.” 

“Ah, yes, I heard that his son was unwell,” the Chancellor smirked, while the Consort looked dismayed. He whispered something in Bosilik, and the Chancellor nodded. 

He ignored them. “As you can imagine, King Francis has been trying to keep this as little known as possible. Primarily, he wants to keep it a secret from the Empire,” Thomas continued, “As well as anyone else.”

“I still don’t understand why you are here, telling Us this,” the Consort told him. 

“Playing the courier, of course,” he grinned. “Count Srodina is watched too closely to send any reports. We diplomats talk,” he smiled, “so no one thinks twice when Count Srodina and I meet for coffee, or discuss things at dinners at the Palace. And, since His Majesty’s visit, everyone at Krzydzov knows that I have … a certain predilection for men in uniform, let’s say.”

The Chancellor chuckled. “They have their charms, I agree.” 

The Consort nodded. 

“So, five days ago, I received a letter from His Royal Highness, Duke Alexandre, giving me two orders. The first, to do anything in my power if His Majesty ever needed help.” He took out another letter from his satchel and offered it to the Consort. “He also sent this for you. I was supposed to forward it, but since I came myself, I brought it myself.”

The Chancellor raised an eyebrow as the Consort took the letter and put it in his pocket. 

Thomas shrugged. He had no idea why His Lord wanted him to do things, but whatever Duke Alexandre wanted, he would do. “I knew what I had to do. Help Count Srodina get in touch with His Majesty and,” he smiled, feeling foolish and amused at his own folly at the same time, “See my favourite man in uniform.” It wasn’t like His Majesty didn’t know about it already. 

“And you weren’t followed? Or stopped?”

“No one takes me very seriously. I dress in the latest fashions, I like music, and I love men. Everyone, including Francis himself, is certain I finally snapped and could not refrain from following all my wicked passions and inclinations.” He laughed. “Why would anyone stop me, when everyone knows I’m coming to the land where the men are handsome and easy?”

“You are strangely candid for an ambassador,” the Chancellor remarked.

“Because His Highness’ second command was to broker a secret alliance between our two great countries, so I must and will be honest with you. His Majesty, King Charles, is appalled that a bastard took the throne from the rightful heir of Oerestand. As you know, Oerestand and Valentin have been tied together with bonds of friendship for generations.”

The Chancellor waited, and continued after a nod from His Majesty. “In other words, His Majesty, King Charles, is afraid of the alliance between Rodtal, Ustvela and Oerestand, and how those three create a block that cuts the Continent in two.”

Thomas nodded. “We have commercial interests in Oerestand as well.”

The Chancellor smirked. “So, this,” he put his hand on the letters, “is a gesture of good will. And if our campaign against Oerestand fails, you have nothing to lose, since our alliance is a secret. Why should we agree to it? A gesture of good will means little when we would have found out the situation at Ustvela eventually. Perhaps not this week, but definitely the next. As you said, you diplomats talk. I bet that we will hear from our Ambassador at Vilnia or Deep Port about the reasons for Prince Anton’s bad health in the next ten days.”

Thomas stared at the Chancellor. He had heard he was smart, but he hadn’t expected him to be so frank as well. “We will not protest when His Majesty, Emperor Nikolaj, takes as much as he wants of Oerestand.”

“Why should you protest?” the Chancellor smiled at him pleasantly. “Our Most Good and Mighty Sovereign has pledged his armies to the service of the rightful king of Oerestand, Augustus, and he is already moving towards Oerestand. Isn’t that something that would also please Valentin, Oerestand’s old ally?”

Thomas froze. He had not heard of that. His Highness’ letter said that the Emperor was going to invade Oerestand. What did the Bosilik want? Access to the sea, of course. Fuck it; he was authorized to do whatever he wanted to secure the treaty, and so he would. “Indeed, that would be most pleasing to Our King. And if the Bosilke Empire takes Sabvajent Bay, then Our Most Gracious Sovereign will negotiate new trade agreements that will benefit both our nations.” He smiled. 

“No, we will negotiate the trade agreements first, and then the treaty.”

He nodded. “As you wish. Should we start?”

The Consort checked the time and shook his head. “The weddings are in an hour. I need to get ready, and so do you.” He stood up. “Your Excellency, Master Piotr will have your clothes ready by then. Would you be so kind as to wait in the next room?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. We will discuss the trade agreement and the treaty tomorrow. Today is a special day, and there will be no work, except for urgent business. Now that We see that this urgent business can wait for a few hours, We will leave it. Chancellor, Your Excellency.” He hurried out of the room. 

Thomas started taking off the Chancellor’s robe. 

“No, bring it later. You don’t want to shock any of the Ladies of the House,” the Chancellor said as he led him to the next room. “Some are Unmarried.”

“Oh, yes, of course, my mistake. Forgive me.”

“We will see you soon, Your Excellency,” he said as he opened the door for him. 

Thomas walked in and the only thing he saw was Evgeni standing in the middle of the room in his dress uniform, looking at him with a soft and sweet expression. “They told me you were here,” he said quietly as the Chancellor closed the door behind them. 

“Why didn’t you write me?” He asked, the words escaping him. 

Evgeni rushed to him. He knelt in front of him, hugged his legs, and looked up with a miserable expression. “I wanted to, but what could I tell you but ‘We are here?’, ‘We are there?’ I didn’t want to tell you that,” he sighed, nuzzling his leg over the dressing gown.

“You could have written how you felt,” he reproached him in the gentlest tone he could manage, his hand reaching down to play with his light brown hair without him realizing he had moved it. How soft Evgeni’s hair was. How he had missed running his fingers through it. 

“I didn’t want to get you in trouble,” Evgeni whispered as he started pushing the gown aside with the side of his head, as if he were a cat. “Isn’t the way of loving men illegal at Valentin? What if they intercepted my letters?” He sighed deeply as he ducked his head under the shirt Thomas was wearing. “I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you because of me,” he whispered before kissing his thigh. 

Thomas shivered. “I couldn’t stand your silence, though. I missed you.”

Evgeni’s breath was warm against his skin. “I missed you too,” he murmured against the tip of his slowly hardening penis. 

As Evgeni closed his lips around the head of his cock, and sucked on him gently but firmly, he closed his eyes and supported himself on Evgeni’s back. “I’ve never felt like this before,” he told him with awe, partly because it was true, and partly because Evgeni continued sucking and sucking him. All the gods above, Evgeni’s mouth felt so hot and deep and tight. 

“I couldn’t even take others in my bed,” he sighed as he saw Evgeni undoing his breeches. A moment later, Evgeni took his cock out and started stroking himself furiously. “None of them were like you. Gods, that mouth of yours. It’s wasted on singing,” he groaned as Evgeni took him to the root and his nose pressed against his groin. 

Evgeni laughed, and the vibrations travelled from his cock to his whole body. Thomas felt that he could melt inside his lover. Evgeni could take all of him, and he wouldn’t care. With another chuckle, Evgeni pulled back a little, and licked him. His clever fingers danced on his inner thigh, making him tremble. 

“I’m yours,” he whispered. “Do what you want with me.”

Humming in agreement, Evgeni started sucking him furiously as he teased his sensitive balls with his fingernails. 

Thomas closed his eyes again, and let Evgeni take him to the brink, pull him back, and do it again, over and over, until he was sobbing for his release, and he could only moan one single plea brokenly, his whole body aching with desire and the need to come. 

Finally, Evgeni took pity on him. He pressed a single spot behind his balls with his fingertip as he sucked him, and he saw bursting stars for the long moment that his body broke into a thousand pieces, all given freely and happily to Evgeni. Then the world went dark. 

When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the bed and Evgeni was in his shirt and breeches, curled around him like a pleased cat, his head on his belly and staring at him indulgently and playing with the fine hairs on his chest. He smiled and hugged him, his scent so comforting and warm. “How I wanted you in my bed,” he smiled. “It snowed for weeks after you left, and all I could think was to ask you if you had seen as much snow at Bosilke.”

“Probably,” Evgeni smiled. “It snows a lot in the capital. It snows for months,” he whispered. “It was so warm at Sorain. I wanted to ask you if that was normal.”

He nodded. “Probably. The summers are warm and humid at Sorain, but not as warm as in the south of Valentin. I am from there, you know. I have a villa by the sea, and…” He sighed. “I miss southern summers up at Ustvela.” Evgeni looked at him with a strange expression, and he caressed Evgeni’s hair again. “I missed you even more than summers at my southern home,” he told Evgeni seriously. “I missed you that much.”

Evgeni kissed his navel. “I missed you too. I told myself over and over that I should forget you, because you are a lord and I’m nothing but a farm boy who learned how to sing and have manners in the army, but I couldn’t.”

“I don’t care if you are a farm boy, or a guard, or whatever,” he told him. “I only care about one thing. Are you mine? Are you my Evgeni?” My sweet, gentle giant? 

Evgeni nodded, the gentle motion creating little fires on Thomas’ skin everywhere they touched. “Yes. And are mine, my Thomas?”

“Yes,” he smiled broadly. 

Evgeni sat up and stared at him seriously. “If you are mine, marry me.”

He stared at him in shock. 

“Marry me,” Evgeni told him with the sweetest expression of desire he had ever seen on him. “No one here will care if we too ask to be joined together in marriage, and if anyone says anything there, you can always say it doesn’t count,” Evgeni’s voice faltered, “because it happened here. No one will hurt you, because our marriage will not be valid in Valentin,” he sighed, “but we will know it’s true, won’t we?” he finished asking, looking so sad and sweet at the same time.

He sat up. “But I have to go back to Ustvela.”

“So what? I have to go back to the Capital. But if we are married, then, even if it doesn’t count at Valentin, we will be able to write to each other, won’t we? People may laugh at us when they read our letters, but when people laugh at something, they usually don’t pay attention to it,” he said, his words echoing the way Thomas had been doing most of his work at Ustvela for the last years. Evgeni hugged him, squeezing him so tightly it hurt. “Perhaps we can meet here at Jedlowa? I can take my leave and meet you here for a week or two every summer, or ….”

Thomas cut him off with a kiss. “Or I can ask His Highness to talk to the King, his brother, and send me to the Bosilik Capital. I don’t care that it will be a demotion, since we already have an Ambassador who is in the King’s favour, so I will have to be posted as his Secretary or something like that. And if he doesn’t agree, then I will resign.”

“Thomas, you can’t,” Evgeni told him, shocked. 

“Why not? It’s not like I need to work for a living. And,” he smiled at Evgeni, “you will keep me warm in the winter?”

“Of course.”

“Then,” he smiled brightly, “I accept your proposal, my Evgeni. I will marry you.”

Evgeni gave him a sweet and chaste kiss on the lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You do look better without make-up,” he suddenly said. “Don’t wear any again.”

“We’re not married yet, and you’re already trying to change me and order me around?” he laughed, amused at Evgeni’s embarrassed blush. “I… I actually stopped wearing make-up months ago,” he said immediately, trying to make sure that Evgeni knew his words had been in jest. “The first time I put it on after you left, and you weren’t there to take it off me, it felt so wrong on my skin. Isn’t it strange that I am not wearing it because it is a way of remembering your touch?” He smiled. “And what do you think of my hair? I also stopped wearing wigs, since you didn’t like them either, so I started growing it out after you left.”

“I like it. I think the colour suits you so much better than those silly grey-dust wigs.” Evgeni smiled happily. “Your hair is the colour of chestnut honey, your eyes of flower honey, and you taste better than both.”

“And…” he started saying, when there was a knock on the door. 

Evgeni answered in Bosilik, and the tailor came in with the Chancellor’s clothes, trying not to look at them. Evgeni told him something that put him at some ease, before he mumbled something as he bowed and left them.

“Unmarried people are not supposed to be with their lovers at Jedlowa, and even when they get married, they must behave as if they are virgins outside their rooms,” he laughed. 

“So, he was more than shocked.”

“Yes, but I told him we were about to get married soon, so he forgave us our impatience.” He stood up and started putting his clothes in order. “I need to find something to iron my clothes,” he grinned. “Get dressed so that Master Piotr can see if there are any last-minute changes, and I’ll be right back.”

With a kiss on his cheek, Evgeni pulled his boots on, and ran out of the room. 

He chuckled. Not even married, and he was bossing him around already. He stood up and started getting dressed. He couldn’t wait to see how his sweet Evgeni would order him after they married. 

When he was done, he stepped out of the room and saw Master Piotr was waiting for him right outside. He smiled and let him check everything, but he was certain there would be no need for any further changes. The clothes fit him perfectly. 

With a smile of approval, Master Piotr nodded at him and left him alone. He went back to the room, sat on the bed, and waited for Evgeni to come back. What had he done? Had he just thrown his entire career out of a figurative window in the aftermath of passion? Gods, he was an idiot, a lovesick idiot.

“What’s so funny?” Evgeni asked him. 

“Nothing,” he wheezed and tried to stop his laughter. “I’m happy,” he told him when he stopped, and it was true. He’d just thrown his career out of the window and had exchanged the expectation of summers spent in his southern home after retirement with the promise of his sweet giant keeping him warm in the bitter, long, cold winters of the Capital. He was mad, but he was happy. For the first time in a long time, he was happy. 

Evgeni smiled at him from where he was trying to smooth his shirt with a stone. “I’m happy too,” he told him softly. “I’m so happy I could sing.”

“Why don’t you?”

With a bright grin, Evgeni started singing in Nisari about how sweet the dawn was when the wind brought a lover’s sigh with it. 

He closed his eyes and listened for a moment. He had done the right thing. Evgeni suddenly stopped and he looked at him, frowning instead of asking.

“I like your smile, Thomas,” Evgeni told him. 

“I like you, Evgeni.”

Evgeni blushed with delight. 

“Did you bring another linen stone?” He asked as he stood up. “Your breeches also have creases.”

Evgeni groaned. “I so prefer winter uniforms. And, no, I didn’t. I…” 

A knock on the door stopped Evgeni.

“Are you ready?” the Chancellor asked from behind it. 

Evgeni pulled his shirt on hastily. “No, Sir. Almost, Sir,” he shouted, standing in attention and saluting even though the Chancellor could not see him. 

When there was no reply, or order, Evgeni tried to make his shirt look less creased, smoothing it down with his big hands. 

“The Chancellor is much different from what I thought. You know, the reports painted a different image of him,” he said as he brought Evgeni’s coat.

“Thanks.” He put it on and smiled at him. “What image do they paint of him?”

Thomas smiled back. Ah, his sweet giant; not volunteering information when it came to Court matters, but turning the question on him. He wondered if he would ever be judged worthy of hearing whatever Evgeni considered state secrets. 

Perhaps never. But that was his fault for falling in love with someone who had to be a spy. How else had the Consort got the recipe for the royal almond biscuits? Only a spy could get that! “We should get going,” he replied instead of answering. “I think the Chancellor had been impatient.”

Evgeni nodded as he finished buttoning his coat. He grabbed his sword belt from the chair, put it on, and checked that his sword fell in place. “I should have ironed my breeches instead of my shirt,” he sighed. “Oh well, let’s hope I get disciplined after you go back to Ustvela,” he grinned at him. 

“I think you look perfect.”

“I think you are biased. Get moving, Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur.”

He grinned. This time, he didn’t feel embarrassed that someone called him by his full name and title. This time, he knew exactly who was addressing him.

He opened the door and came face to face with the Consort, dressed in a long, flowing purple coat embellished with gold flowers at the neckline, the border of the sleeves, and the hem. The sleeves were slit from right above the elbow, showing that he wore a white, long-sleeved tunic underneath, embroidered with red flowers. 

“Your Majesty,” Evgeni gasped with surprise. 

The Consort laughed. “Indeed. This is me as King of Quhjan. What do you think of our formal court clothes?” He started moving, and grabbed the coat with both hands when he reached the staircase, revealing purple leather boots with more gold embroidery. “Grigorief insisted that as King I could not dress as an Elder anymore, so they made me clothes for formal occasions and for Council meetings.”

“Grigorief is a wise man,” the Chancellor told him. “Clothes can show status better than any imperial decree.”

“I agree,” Thomas said.

“I thought the Council meeting robes were lovely, but these ones are even nicer,” Evgeni said. 

“Nicer is an understatement,” one of the Guards at the hall said. “Sorry,” he apologised for speaking when not asked, “but they are…” He smiled approvingly, and his other six companions all nodded. 

“Thank you.” 

“Your Majesty?” Evgeni asked shyly. “I asked Thomas to marry me. Can we also get married with the others?”

The Guards in the room started murmuring, but one glance from the Chancellor made them fall quiet. The man then looked at Evgeni. “With your dress uniform in that state? There are creases everywhere and not to mention the stains at the knees. What did you do? Sleep in it?” He snorted. “No, don’t answer that.”

Evgeni blushed very deeply.

The Consort also looked at Evgeni. “I don’t see anything. Do you?” he addressed Thomas.

“No, I see nothing,” he said, even though, now that the Chancellor had mentioned it, he could also see the very light stains from where Evgeni had knelt in front of him and… He felt his cheeks burn. 

“Well, then, I think it is absolutely fine and fitting that you will get married today. How lovely.” His expression turned soft. “Well,” he grinned as one of the Guards opened the door for him, “Let’s go get you all married. This will be my first time officiating, so I hope I will do everything well and properly.”

“I am certain you will,” the Chancellor reassured him as he walked a little further behind him. 

“How are Quhjani weddings?” Thomas asked him quietly as they waited for the Consort’s and the Chancellor’s Guards to leave the house so they could follow them out.

“Easy. We just have to be very quiet, share some bread and wine and that’s it.”

“They don’t kiss?”

“No.” Evgeni grinned. “Told you, they all act as if they were unmarried in public. I think that the only privilege a husband has, is that he can take his wife’s or husband’s arm in his.”

Thomas snorted. “I hope you do more than that in public. Although, perhaps not as much as what Their Majesties did at Sorain.”

Evgeni looked at him seriously. “That was a very sacred and important ritual that they performed. It was nothing outrageous or indecent.”

That was not what he had read. “Whatever you say, my dear,” he smiled. 

“It is,” Evgeni insisted. “It is so for all of us. When a husband spills his seed with his wife or his husband, he asks the spirits to bless them, and make their gifts as abundant and plentiful as his seed.”

Thomas looked at him. “Our Gods demand no such prayers. We offer them what is precious to us, when we ask for their gifts.”

“So, for coin, you would give coin?”

He nodded. “Gold is most pleasing to the gods, but silver too, and copper, if you don’t have anything else.”

“Hm. Well, I do hope that you will grow used to our way of giving.” Evgeni gave him a lustful look. “At the Winter Solstice Ball, we will show our gratitude to the spirits.” He grew serious. “I mean, if you want, and if you are at the Capital.” He sighed deeply. “This is not wise, but I don’t care,” he smiled at him. “We will make our marriage work, won’t we?”

Thomas reached down, took Evgeni’s hand in his and squeezed it once. “Yes,” he promised. 

“Good.”

They walked silently through the streets, smiling at each other every other second, until they reached a large open space by the river. No wonder the town had seemed a little empty to him when he’d arrived. All the population was there, gathered around a round area where several Guards were waiting with their future wives or husbands. 

He was so happy he had his own dashing Guard next to him. These men looked so good in uniform, that surely anyone with not one by their side would feel envious. 

A stepped platform was on one side, and there he saw Lady Irina as well as the other Elders of Quhjan, all dressed in long, black coats. His Majesty would look even more striking next to them in his purple and gold robes of state, he realised. 

With a nod, the Chancellor went to take his place at the platform. 

The Consort gestured for them to go join the other Guards, so Evgeni guided him there. 

The moment they reached them and stood at the end of the line, they all turned to look at him. “Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur? What are you doing here?” they sang together. 

Oh, fuck, he’d forgotten that they were more than spies; they were a choir! And clearly, they had their own choir jokes. 

“Getting married to me,” Evgeni sang back. 

The Consort smiled at them indulgently as the Guards started offering them congratulations and good wishes. 

“Enough.” snapped loudly the black-haired man in a red uniform that was next to Major Lesnev. “This is a solemn occasion. Save your congratulations for after the wedding. Little f…” Major Lesnev gave him a look and he went quiet, looking down awkwardly. 

“Yes, Sir, yes!” They all shouted and fell back in line, quiet and looking even more embarrassed than the man in red. 

The Consort continued to look at them fondly. “It is a solemn, but a happy occasion,” he smiled, raising his voice. “A union of people from across the Empire, joined by bonds of love. It is the most wonderful occasion of them all, and why give speeches, when actions speak more than words?”

Three Guards in blue, dress uniforms and three Quhjani soldiers in white tunics and breeches, decorated with red embroideries, walked next to the Consort. The first two presented him with a tray covered with a piece of cloth, while the two behind them carried two bowls in small trays and the last two carried one a tray with a jug, and the other a tray with small cups. 

The Consort lifted the cover, picked up a small wreath of green leaves and wild flowers, all tied with a white ribbon and raised it. The first couple, a blond Guard with rosy cheeks and his fiancée, a tall, blonde in a red dress, stepped forward, joined their hands and placed them in the circle created by the wreath. 

From another tray, carried again by a Bosilik and a Quhjani soldier, the Consort lifted a small bun, and with their free hands, the couple cut a piece, dipped it into the little bowls that the two soldiers carried, and fed each other. 

Once they had eaten, the Consort took the jug from the third Guard’s tray, poured wine into one of the cups that were on the Quhjani’s soldier’s tray and gave it first to the Guard. He took a sip, gave it back to the Consort, and he gave it to his fiancée. Once she had taken a sip, he put the cup on the tray with the jug and moved the wreath away, freeing their hands.   
The two smiled at each other and moved away, walking near a group of Guards, who seemed like they held their mouths shut with great difficulty, such was their excitement. 

It didn’t seem like a complicated ceremony, and that reassured Thomas. Besides, they were at the end of the line. He’d know how to do this with his eyes closed by the time it was their turn. He smiled at Evgeni. He couldn’t wait to write to His Highness and ask for either a transfer or for him and his brother, King Charles, to accept his resignation. How could a post at the miserable court of Ustvela compare to his sweet giant? It could not.


	47. Chapter 47

“That went well, didn’t it?” Elik smiled at Mark after they had sat at their table, and the food had been served. He cut a piece of bread, and chewed it slowly so that the others could start eating.

Mark nodded. “And it did not last as long as I feared,” he smirked.

Elik chuckled. “That’s because the ceremony is an excuse for the feast.” Smile in place, he turned towards Count Rasoulin. “And what do we do about Prince Anton? He did raise arms against his father, but he is Our friend. I cannot pretend I know nothing. Is there something we can do according to protocol?” Between the music and the noise of people talking and dancing, one would need to read lips to know that they were talking work. 

Count Rasoulin also smiled as if they were discussing something pleasant. “Your Majesty can complain formally, but is that wise? Revealing to King Francis that you know what is happening at his court?” 

“We would have found out sooner or later,” Mark said.

“But that will also reveal that His Excellency is working with us, and make Francis realise that he wouldn’t have done it without King Charles’ permission. For how long will you be able to keep the alliance between Bosilke and Valentin secret if that happens?” Vasily asked them, also smiling with amusement. 

Mark nodded. 

“I hate it. So, can we complain formally whenever the first report comes from one of our Ambassadors outside Ustvela? And what do we do about Count Srodina’s situation? His Excellency made it sound like he is under house arrest. That, we will tolerate as well?” Elik asked them as he laughed. “Surely that is something that we could find out from His Excellency without revealing our alliance with Valentin? It’s just gossip, and everyone knows how everyone talks.” He glanced at the table where the newlywedded Guards sat, Thomas and Evgeni among them. “Perhaps he told Evgeni in bed, and he talked to…” he turned towards Vasily, “someone?”

“And that someone talked to someone else?” Grigori smiled at Vasily and then Mark. “Could work. But it would also make His Excellency seem unreliable. His indiscretion could lead to his dishonourable dismissal from the Court of King Francis and the end of his career. Is that something wise? Especially since he seems to have the trust of His Highness and be a good agent for him. Do we want to burn an agent of an allied state for our benefit?”

“So, again, we do nothing?”

“I’m sorry, Sire, it seems so,” Count Rasoulin told him. 

“I hate this, I hate this completely,” Elik grinned. “So, we just discuss the trade agreements and the treaty tomorrow?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Chancellor, you will lead the discussion again tomorrow, won’t you? I don’t even know what treaties we have in place with Valentin.” He smiled at them. “How did the Empress Dowager manage being a Regent? It’s so difficult being one.” If he had felt unprepared for being an Empress, when all his duties were amusing the Ladies and keeping the court from cracking (duties in which he had failed terribly), then what could he say about how he felt about being His Husband’s Representative? 

“She had the help of the Council, and the Chancellor,” Mark smiled at him. “Just like you do.” He glanced at Vasily and Grigori. “What are you two whispering?”

“We would like to dance,” Vasily told them. 

“May we?”

Elik nodded. If he didn’t have so much work, he would like to dance too. Perhaps later. He should ask some musicians to come with him at the Capital and teach his Court musicians how to play Quhjani music well. 

Grigori stood up and offered his hand to Vasily, who took it and followed him up and into the clearing where people danced. 

“I envy them,” he smiled honestly to Mark. “I too wish I could get up and dance.”

Mark grinned as he watched them. “You could always ask someone.”

“Perhaps later,” Elik smiled. “I am still thinking… Can we recall Count Srodina?”

“What would be the point of that? Whoever goes to Ustvela will be in the same position,” Mark said. “It is best to wait until we hear about the situation from others, and then file a formal complaint about the treatment of Your friend, Prince Anton. When that happens, King Francis will no longer have a reason to keep Srodina under house arrest, and things will go back to how they were.”

“You make a very good point, Chancellor.”

Mark smirked as if to say that he knew. 

“I still hate it.”

“Diplomacy is often the art of waiting for the right time,” Count Rasoulin told him. 

“I see. Then We will wait,” Elik smiled. He tried a bit of the meat. “I don’t know why His Majesty thinks we overcook the meat here. It’s perfectly fine.”

Mark chuckled. “He likes it rare.”

“Please, eat. It’s not like we can do much, can we? If we were back at Ivanhof, I could at least study the existing agreements between us and Valentin. Can’t we let this wait until we are back?”

“No. Perhaps we can also make another agreement, asking material help from Valentin. Maybe some ships,” Mark told him. “They would be of use to His Majesty.”

“I agree. Ah, that didn’t last long,” he smiled as he saw Vasily and Grigori coming back, holding hands again. “Did you grow bored with dancing so soon?”

Grigori smiled as he sat down. “Yes. For now.”

“I didn’t, though.” Vasily smiled at Count Rasoulin. “Will you do me the honour?”

The Count gave them a surprised, almost worried, look. “Yes?”

Mark nodded and the Count followed Vasily.

“We had a thought,” Grigori said the moment Vasily and the Count were away. 

Mark snorted. “Of course, you did. What was it?”

“His Excellency and Evgeni should go back to Krzydzov. I’ll go with them together with Valery and Maxim.”

“Why?”

“Because Ivan and Fedot just got married.”

Elik stared at him. “That was not what I was asking. Why would you go there?”

“To see cameos, of course,” Grigori smiled. “And because Vasily is the Head of your Security Team, Sire. He can’t go. Besides, I don’t have any friends or acquaintances or contacts there. What harm could I do?” he smiled pleasantly.

Elik stared at him. “What harm can you do?”

“Nothing,” Grigori smiled. “I’ll just have a look around, see the art, try the coffee.” 

“I thought you trusted me,” he whispered.

“We do,” Mark and Grigori told him. 

“We really and honestly want to know what is happening. We are very curious,” Grigori said, “And the best way of finding out is by going there, instead of waiting for reports. Since Evgeni will be going back there for his honeymoon with his husband, why not join him for a short trip?” 

“When did Evgeni decide to go back with His Excellency?”

Grigori stared at him. “He didn’t. We have decided for him. If you approve of it, of course.”

“Of course,” he snorted. He stood up. “I want to dance with Vasily.”

Mark and Grigori laughed. “He’s learning,” Mark said proudly. 

He found Vasily trying to teach the Count one of their slower dances, and cleared his throat. “Count, if I may?”

Count Rasoulin bowed and left Vasily alone. He almost ran back to the table. 

“He really hates dancing,” Vasily grinned. 

He nodded. “So, what’s the true story?” he asked as he started dancing facing Vasily. 

“Someone must assess the situation at Ustvela. Neither I nor my Team can go since we must be with Your Majesty. In any case, even if I could go, my team and I would be shadowed everywhere. Grigori will also be followed, but people only know him as my husband and a Major of the Reds.”

“So…”

“As far as everyone knows, he’s only served in the army, and never in intelligence, as I had.”

“You’re not worried?”

Vasily missed a step. “Of course, I am. But what can we do? My team and I can’t go, and, while the Guards are good, they are young and lack experience. We both agree that it is best if he goes with them to assess the situation. If we were at the Capital, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. There are other officers there, who are just as qualified to go and get in touch with our contacts at Ustvela. But we are here, and there’s just Grigori and I.” He took a deep breath. “Protecting the Empire comes first. Knowing what Francis is up to is important. Assessing how people feel about Prince Anton is important. Anton is young and hot-headed, but he is well-liked.”

Elik froze. “You want to overthrow King Francis?”

“You said it, not I. Is that a step to the left now?”

Elik started dancing again. “But you just renewed your vows. How can you let him go into a dangerous situation that could potentially end up badly?” So many things could go wrong.

“It’s a risk we have to accept. If Grigori gets arrested for checking things out for the Empire, he could be deported, or imprisoned, or…” Vasily’s mouth tightened. “We hope,” he continued after a few moments, “that as my husband and a member of His Majesty’s Court, he will just be escorted back to the Empire, and forbidden from stepping into Ustvela again. But, even more, we hope that nothing will happen and we will have enough material for Your Majesties so that you will be able to make informed decisions about Ustvela in the future.”

How could he say that? How could he suggest that? He didn’t understand; or rather, he did, but didn’t want to believe it. “Is that worth it? That you could lose Grigori for the sake of words?”

Vasily glared at him. “Sire. The safety of the Empire is more important than the life of an individual. I thought you, of all people, would understand. They still call you ‘The Sacrifice’ here because you gave yourself up for your country. If not for Luck, you could have ended up like Setland or Caga. Love for a person is wonderful, but love for one’s country is worth dying for. Sire.” Vasily saluted him and turned back towards the seating area. 

Elik felt like someone had punched him. No, it was worse, he’d felt like he disappointed Vasily. Vasily was right; Hadn’t he done exactly what Grigori wanted to do? And it was even worse when he’d done it; Grigori had as many chances of succeeding in his mission as he had of failure. Elik had left Jedlowa knowing he would never see his home or his family ever again. He hadn’t been swayed either by Radu’s pleas or Irina’s tears, but he’d left, and if Nikolaj hadn’t stopped and looked at him that first night, he’d be in the other end of the Empire, perhaps near Taya, wasting away, or perhaps he would have killed himself. If not for Luck… 

He ran after him, burning with shame. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “Stop, stop.”

Vasily did. When he turned to face Elik, he was still furious, with eyes still shining angrily and his nostrils still flaring as he took deep breaths. 

“I’m sorry,” Elik said again. “Let’s dance. People are looking at us.” He danced backwards and Vasily followed him. “You are right. But it’s always easier for one to behave in such a manner, than to accept that his friends do it. I do the same with His Majesty. I know he does what he must, but I hate it so much that I can’t understand how he can do it. I really hate fighting and wars and killing. I do. Forgive me.”

Vasily smiled at him, his anger gone in the same quick manner as it had appeared. “Apology accepted. I too hate wars,” he told him softly, “but this is not the time for such feelings. Perhaps when this war is over, we can think how to avoid the next one, but now we must fight.”

Elik felt reprimanded. “Why can’t we just wait, as Mark and the Count had suggested? Why must Grigori and the others go?”

“Because, if all goes well, he will be back before the reports from either Vilnia or Storjord, and he will have inside knowledge that our Ambassadors do not have. They will have rumours; Grigori and the others will come back with facts.” Vasily frowned. “I don’t like King Francis, Sire. Prince Anton, him I can trust.”

“Really? I thought King Hans Ulrich was irritating.”

Vasily grinned. “Oh, he was irritating, but not like King Francis. Let’s go back. People will start saying I’m trying to seduce you, or worse, you are trying to seduce me. We have been talking for too long.”

“And I am keeping you from your Husband. Forgive me.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I’m also sorry for saying you weren’t worried.”

“This apology is also accepted.” Vasily smiled a little. “I am worried, but that’s how it is. We both serve the Empire; we can’t let concern stop us from doing our work.”

Elik looked at him. That was the kind of behaviour he had to learn, he realised. Not for himself; he knew how to sacrifice himself. No, he had to learn how to accept the sacrifice of others. The same way that he had to learn to be ruthless, even when he hated what he had to do. How he hated it all. He sighed. “Do you really think it’s necessary, then?”

“Yes. We both do. If Mark disagrees, though, then we will obey and wait.”

Elik nodded, feeling miserable. “And if he doesn’t, We will give the gift of a honeymoon to Evgeni.”

“Thank you.” 

Elik smiled at Mark, Count Rasoulin, and Grigori. “I am sorry for keeping your Husband away from you,” he smiled. “Mark, I am still not tired of dancing, though. Please?”

Mark stood up and followed him until they were in the middle again.

“You agree with that?” he asked him bluntly. 

Mark studied him as he danced. “I am not happy with the idea,” he finally said, “but since Our Ambassador is essentially under house arrest, and won’t be able to send us any reports until after we file a formal complaint, and his reports will reach us a week to ten days after that, then, it is a risk worth taking. Sire,” Mark told him seriously, “By allying itself with Oerestand, a country with which we are at war, Ustvela is no longer our ally. In war, having quick and accurate information is vital.”

“Oh. But they have not declared war on us, nor we to them.”

Mark looked at him as if he were stupid. 

Perhaps he was. “I feel so unprepared for everything,” he sighed. 

“That’s not your fault,” Mark said with a smile that was sad rather than comforting. “And You are not alone,” Mark reminded him. “Tomorrow, we will offer incense to Luck, to protect Grigori and the others. What do you do? Sacrifice to the Spirits?”

He nodded.

“So, that is what we will do tomorrow. That said, I don’t think King Francis will be stupid enough to do anything to Grigori even if he catches him going through his papers,” he smiled. “He is a member of His Majesty’s Court and Vasya’s husband.”

“You are very sure of that. The man put his own son to prison.”

“True, but hoping is better than anticipating catastrophe.”

“Is that what I am doing?”

Mark nodded. “Yes, and it is bad luck.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”

“We’re all worried, but we also hope that Francis will use his head, as he usually does. I’ll tell you a secret I haven’t told anyone. I was worried while you were traveling, for you, for Vasya, and for Nikolaj, but that didn’t make me lose hope.”

“Nikolaj?”

“He missed you terribly.”

“I missed Him too,” Elik smiled. “When the feast is over, I have to write to Him. I have so many things to say to Him.”

Mark snorted. “You write to Him every night.”

“I do, and then I cook. I think I’ll make stuffed buns with some of the meat leftovers tonight. They should keep… no, they will not…. I’ll just send Him some more of the wedding bread, then. And almond cookies, if there are any left. They will keep. And maybe... I will make Him some jam?”

Mark nodded. “Jam is always welcome.”

“I’ll do that, then.” After he wrote to Nikolaj. Oh, how many things he had to tell him. “Mark? Should we go back to work? The feast can go on without us, and if we present the Ambassador with a draft of the agreement and the treaty tomorrow, won’t that make the discussion go faster, and so they can leave faster for Ustvela?”

Mark smiled at him with pride. “Indeed, Sire. That is a great idea.”

If time was of such importance, then he’d do his best to give Grigori and the Guards some extra. His stomach suddenly reminded him it was there. “Erm, maybe after eating?”

&*&*

Elik went over the document one more time, summarizing the contents of each article as he read. “One: official titles etc, two: peace between our countries, three to eight: right to establish consuls free to act as Our agents, who can arbitrate between traders, act as government representatives with legal powers, nine: legal protection of our citizens at Valentin, ten: freedom to live according to Bosilik laws when it comes to private matters… Do we need to spell it out to them that Bosilik traders married to men will not be prosecuted under current Valentin laws?”

Count Rasoulin half-opened his eyes. “Eh?”

Mark shook his head. “Perhaps we can continue tomorrow? You should get some rest, Your Excellency.”

“Yes? Yes, thank you.” He blinked at them owlishly, but didn’t move.

Elik smiled. “Apologies, we kept you up for far too long. In fact, it’s so late, I won’t even write to His Majesty tonight. I will do it tomorrow, after our talk with His Excellency, the Ambassador.”

Mark nodded. 

“What I would really like is some tea,” Elik muttered.

Count Rasoulin nodded. “Chamomile.”

“Yes, but…” A knock on the door stopped Elik from saying that it was not worth waiting for the time it took for the fire to start burning and the water to boil. “Enter,” he said. 

Vasily appeared behind the door, Grigori behind him. “Hello, we saw that you were still here,” Vasily smiled at them.

“So, we wondered if you wanted some tea,” Grigori continued. 

“But didn’t know if you would prefer tea so you can continue working, or something to help you rest,” Vasily said.

“And so, we decided to come ask you.”

“Yes, well?”

Elik stared at them. How? Why? What? 

Mark smiled. “You shouldn’t be so diligent,” he told them.

“Well, we are, and we need an answer. The water is ready,” Grigori told them. 

“I want chamomile,” Count Rasoulin replied tiredly as he stood up, “but if the water is ready, I’ll do it myself.”

“I’ll join you,” Mark said. 

“I’ll also join you,” Elik told them as he followed them out. He really wanted to ask what the Lesnevs were doing there, but how could he do that without sounding rude? No, he couldn’t. “Are they still celebrating?”

Vasily nodded. “I gave them the day off tomorrow, except for those whose duty is to Guard you, Sire.”

Grigori shook his head. “You are still coddling them.”

“It’s a special day, they deserve it.”

“I agree, they do,” Elik said as they went down the stairs. “I was so happy for everyone today. I really want them all to live happily and…” He closed his mouth. 

“We all want that, Sire,” Mark told him. 

“It’s ‘Elik’ after dinner when we are not working,” he reminded him. 

Mark grinned. “Fine, Elik.”

Count Rasoulin hurried into the kitchen, took a small pot and a cup from one the shelves, put dried chamomile, poured the water and nodded at them as he hurried back to his room. 

“He’s in a mood,” Grigori snorted. 

“He’s tired. He hates staying up,” Vasily told him as he went after the Count and closed the door behind him. “Tea?”

Grigori shook his head as he brought down cups for the four of them. 

“Who else wants something relaxing?”

Both Elik and Mark raised their hands. Vasily took down the biggest teapot and put in dried lavender, linden, and chamomile before pouring the water in it, and bringing it to the table. 

They all sat down and he looked at the pot. It was one of his Mother’s, but he couldn’t remember when or where she had bought it.

“We just wanted to see how you were,” Vasily told him quietly. “You didn’t look very happy earlier.”

Elik stared at him as if he were mad. “Why would I be happy?”

“Elik,” Vasily told him very softly, “I understand what you are saying and why, but if your friends were here today, or if you were not who you are, but you were one of them again, do you think that they would hesitate to give their lives for the sake of their country? Would you not do your duty too?”

“No,” he replied immediately. 

“Then why do you deny us the right to do what we must and our duty?”

“Because you’re my friends, and I… I don’t want to lose you too. I don’t want to lose anyone ever again,” he cried, feeling tears burn his eyes. 

Vasily opened his mouth. 

“You’re such a child,” Grigori snorted. 

“I am not.”

“That’s what children say,” Grigori continued, with the same smirk. His expression softened. “Losing people is part of life. If you live long enough, you will lose everyone. If you don’t, the ones who love you, will lose you.”

Elik wanted to say he didn’t like it, but that was even more childish. He just stared at Grigori, understanding what he was saying, but how he hated it. 

“Is this because you are still here, and they are not?” Vasily asked him even more quietly than before. “You feel guilty that you survived, and they didn’t?”

Hadn’t Vasily asked him that before, when he asked him why he hated war? And hadn’t he told him that he hated war because he’d lost his friends? Why was he asking him again?

Vasily continued before Elik could tell him that that wasn’t true. “And you feel guilty because, instead of waiting for the time to join them at your place of exile, you are now in such a lofty position? Do you think you are unworthy? Is that why?”

Elik shivered. Vasily looked so calm and patient and kind, and he wasn’t asking, was he? “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know. Maybe? I keep asking Him to kill me,” he mumbled, thinking of how that was the only solution he always found for all his arguments with Nikolaj. Life would have been so much easier for everyone if he were dead. He had been a bad empress, and…. 

“It’s not your fault that you live. It’s not your fault, and no one blames you,” Vasily told him firmly. “You hear me?”

“Yes, but…” 

“It’s not your fault,” Vasily insisted, staring at him, forcing him to at least think about his words, if he couldn’t accept them.

Perhaps it wasn’t his fault, but he was alive and they were not, and…

“Since you are here, you must live for them,” Grigori suddenly said, in the same firm tone as his husband. “Make them proud, you little….” He stopped, snorting. “Language,” he muttered, smiling at Vasily. 

Vasily smiled back.

Elik looked at them. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he suddenly felt like he’d fallen off a cliff and he had opened his eyes to stare up not from its bottom but from the top. It was so odd. He was shaken, but not scared, and the sky above him was bright and endless, the ground beneath him supporting him. “I…”

“Yes?” 

Something felt broken inside him, but instead of making him feel bad, he felt free. Not like when he’d known that he had to offer himself to their conquering Emperor, or when he’d written to Nikolaj that he could not be his meek and mild Empress any more. Back then, it was because he had nothing to lose. That moment, he felt free because he had a place in this bright and endless world that surrounded him. It was weird. “I feel strange.”

“Strange how?” Mark asked him with concern.

“Like…. I can breathe?” 

Vasily nodded, as if he knew what he was talking about. Perhaps he did. He poured them the infusion, pretending to be focused on that simple task.

Elik had a sip. “We all do what we must,” he whispered, finally accepting it, and saying it without thinking that he hated it. 

“And we are all in this together,” Vasily told him. 

“We just have different tasks,” Grigori added. 

“But one goal,” Mark said. “To make our land better.”

“A land to which everyone belongs,” Vasily said. That sounded familiar for some reason. “You said that here, almost six months ago,” he smiled at him, even though Elik hadn’t asked him. “Have you forgotten?”

“Maybe? But I can believe I said it.” Finally, the memory came back to him. “Oh, the night you let me get truly drunk,” he grinned.

Vasily smirked. “When someone can’t understand how bad drinking is, letting them experience its ill effects first-hand is the only way to teach them.”

He chuckled. “Thank you for the lesson.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“And thank you for everything else.” He turned towards Grigori. “Thank you. And thank you,” he said to Mark. 

“Don’t mention it,” Grigori snorted. “Just try to remember what you learned today. Write it fifty times every fucking morning and every fucking evening until you learn it.”

“Language!” Vasily complained. 

“Fuck you,” Grigori told Vasily the way that Nicolaj called him ‘Darling’ when he was being particularly delighted with him. 

“I will write it every day,” he promised them. “I will make my friends proud. All my friends.” Not just the dead, but the living too. Particularly the living. “And I do accept that they do their duty, the way I do mine.”

“That’s all I need to know,” Grigori smiled as he stood up. “Now, if you excuse us,” he took Vasily’s cup from his hand and put it down on the table. “We would like to get some sleep before getting up tomorrow and going back to work.” 

Vasily nodded as he rose. 

Mark grinned. “You can take the morning off. I think we all will.”

“Yes, we will.” 

“Thank you. Sir, Sire,” Vasily saluted them. 

Grigori saluted them a second later. 

Mark made a dismissive gesture. “See you tomorrow, Your Excellencies.”

Elik nodded. “Till tomorrow. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

“See you.”

He watched them leave holding hands and he sighed. How had they found that place inside him that he didn’t know that it existed? 

“Are you really… you know?” Mark asked him with the same gentleness as Vasily.

“I think so. I do feel like I no longer carry a weight. I didn’t even know I was carrying this guilt.” He glanced at the door that they had left ajar. “Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Is the reason they are not in the same regiment that they are…” No, there were no witches. “They can make anyone do anything and reveal everything. Like witches.”

Mark stared at him shocked, before breaking into laughter. “Oh, oh, no,” he finally managed to say. “It’s because Grigori uses at least one swear word per sentence and Vasily gets mad when he hears that. And the madder Vasily gets, the more Grisha does it,” he started laughing again. “They’d spend all day with the one swearing and the other shouting ‘Language’ and they would never get anything done.” 

“I see.” He finished his tea. “I’m suddenly feeling exhausted. Good night, Mark.”

“Good night, Elik. Make sure to sleep with Oleg,” Mark told him as he stood up.

“I always do.”

“Good. I’m just saying, if you wake up in the middle of the night needing a hug, use Oleg. He’s really soft and cuddly. Maybe I should also ask for a Tanovik dog,” he snorted. 

“Ask and you shall receive,” Elik smiled. 

“Thank you, I might. Good night.”

Ah, what a strange suggestion, but perhaps a good one. Oleg was warm and soft and cuddly and always knew when he was feeling strange. Ah, Oleg! 

&*&*

Grigori kissed Vasya’s nape, soft hair teasing his nose for a moment. Vasya made a little sound and relaxed further in Grigori’s embrace. No matter what Vasya said, he really was like a cat: aloof during the day, playful in the night, and sleeping deeply when he felt safe. 

“Kitten?” Grigori whispered against his back, as he pulled the sheet that covered their lower bodies off them slowly. 

Vasya shivered and relaxed again. Still sleeping, then. 

“Siuta Vasiuka?” he tried again. 

Vasya shrugged.

Grigori smiled and kissed him again. Slowly, he raised Vasya’s nightshirt, admiring the view. His husband had such a tight, firm ass. It was so perfect for grabbing when Vasya fucked him. Even more slowly, he trailed his fingers over the soft flesh until he reached Vasya’s balls. They were a dark pink, seemingly darker still between his pale thighs, and he couldn’t resist the temptation of touching them lightly with his fingertip, making Vasya shiver, but still, he didn’t wake up.

Well, Vasya was asleep, but he wasn’t. He rubbed his cock between Vasya’s cheeks and when he tired of the slow glide, he reached for the bottle on the floor, wet his fingers with some oil and circled Vasya’s little hole. It opened easily for him, still loose from earlier and relaxed from sleep. He stretched him a little, used some more oil to slick his cock, and pressed inside him as he slid his left hand under Vasya’s waist so he could hold him, and took Vasya’s hand in his right hand. 

Vasya trembled. “Hm?”

“Good morning.”

He pushed back. “Good morning.” He chuckled. “Grishka Grishuka, you couldn’t wait?” His voice was lower than usual, still lazy-sleepy. 

“Siuta Vasiuka, you mind?”

Vasya laughed as he shook his head, twisted his body, and reached for his nape. He stopped laughing as he pulled him down for a kiss, and raised his leg so that Grigori could fuck him harder and deeper. Grigori smiled into Vasya’s mouth. Vasya was his, just as he was Vasya’s. 

For a few moments, their tongues slid playfully against each other, as Vasya’s cock pulsed happily in Grigori’s hold, and Grigori made a home for him inside Vasya. But that was not enough for him. He broke the kiss. “Siuta? I want you to come in me.”

“Grisha,” Vasya sighed happily, “Yes. But I won’t last if you keep stroking me,” he muttered in a still rough, not-quite-awake drawl. 

Smiling, Grigori let go of Vasya’s cock. 

“Damn. I liked that,” Vasya sighed deeply even as he smiled back. “Hey.”

“Hey to you.”

“Wait. I want to see you.” 

Reluctantly, Grigori slid off him and stroked himself lazily as Vasya turned, sprawled on his back and spread his legs for him. “Hey,” he said happily, playing with the hem of Vasya’s nightshirt with his free hand. Vasya removed it a moment later. 

“Hey to you,” Vasya replied, his lids half-closing, his eyes glowing with desire almost like a cat’s. He crossed his arms behind his head, displaying himself with a soft smile. 

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispered, admiring his Vasya, his tall, lean, handsome Vasya as he knelt between his legs, lifted them up and pressed the head of his cock against his hole. “I fucking love you, kitten,” he gasped as he pushed into him again. 

“I know,” Vasya replied cheekily, before moaning deeply. “I love you too. So much.” He untangled his hands so he could reach for Grigori again, this time grabbing his hands and entwining their fingers. “Grisha,” he whispered.

“Siuta,” Grigori replied in the same tone. He thrust faster and faster, trying to bury himself inside Vasya. How he wanted to become one with him, and never leave him. “Hey.” His voice broke as he started coming, the idea of being one with Vasya too wonderful, and Vasya always so perfect for him that he couldn’t hold back. 

Lax and happy, he slipped out of Vasya and turned around, kneeling on all fours, offering himself to him. 

“Grisha,” Vasya whispered with reverence that was in odds to the blunt thrust of his slippery fingers inside him, and the quick stretching that made Grigori realise how loose he still was. Fuck, Vasya had fucked him so well the night before. He moaned happily at the memory, and pushed back, demanding more. 

Vasya did not disappoint him. Moments later, his fingers left him and were replaced by his long, thick cock. “Siuta, Siuta Vasiuka, mine, my own, harder.”

With a groan that made his cock try to rise again, Vasya slid inside him, burning him. He stopped for a moment when he bottomed, grabbed his hips, and with another groan, pulled back, slid out and pushed inside him again, fucking him fast and hard, and pushing him down on the bed with the force of his thrusts.

Grigori closed his eyes with delight. He loved Vasya fucking him with wild abandon. He loved Vasya fucking him. He loved Vasya. Vasya, Vasya, Vasya. “Vasya,” he shouted, as he felt Vasya’s hot and wet seed fill him. 

“Grisha,” Vasya gasped above him, before collapsing on him and kissing him on the nape, his lips worrying the same spot over and over. It hurt but it felt good at the same time. He liked the idea of carrying Vasya’s mark on him for a few days. 

With a sigh, Vasya pulled away from him. Grisha heard him move and lie down. He turned around and lay beside him, putting his head against his shoulder, and hugging him. Vasya hugged him back immediately. They looked at each other, smiling a little. 

“Hey.”

“Hey to you.”

Grigori closed his eyes and Vasya rubbed his cheek against Grigori’s head. “You really are a cat,” Grigori told him. “My own, precious kitten,” he grinned and scratched him lightly on the chest. 

“You know, if anyone else ever called me ‘kitten’, I’d beat them up,” Vasya snorted. “But when you say it,” he said in a very soft voice, “it’s different.”

“How would you know? You’ve never had another lover call you ‘kitten’,” he chuckled.

Vasya laughed. “I’ve never had another lover, you mean. Hey?”

Grigori opened his eyes at the worry in his husband’s voice. 

“You will be careful, won’t you? Francis… I don’t like that man.”

Grigori nodded. “He’s duplicitous and a liar. I will be careful.”

“Thank you. I really don’t like him. He makes my skin crawl,” he said with a shiver. 

He kissed Vasya’s shoulder. He’d trusted in Vasya’s instincts for years, he wouldn’t stop doing it now. If that man made his husband feel like that, then… “I’ll be very careful,” he said.  
Vasya sighed. 

“Fourteen years in three months,” Grigori told him quietly. Or eighteen, if one counted from when they had met, and not from when they had married. “I want to be back for our anniversary, Husband. And for making pickles. I won’t be reckless, or stupid. And,” he touched his wedding ring, “I have this. If I must, I will show it to him.” 

“I know you will be careful,” Vasya murmured. “I’m just having second thoughts.”

“Because your instincts tell you so or…?” he asked quietly.

“Or…. My instincts say one of us must go there. It’s my heart that is selfish.” He snorted. “I gave a lecture to His Majesty about duty, but… I do envy him sometimes, when he sighs and moans and says he misses his husband like a child.”

Grigori kissed him again. “I hope you don’t do that. Excessive sentimentality is an extremely unattractive trait.” He laughed. “It’s bad enough that you are making me live with dogs. If I have to live with sighs too, I might as well start reading romances too.” He grimaced. 

“And you’re making me live with cats. Grisha?” He laughed. “Is this your wicked plot to make me like them?”

“How did you guess?” Grigori sat up, leaned over Vasya and kissed him softly. “My heart is selfish too,” he whispered. “But that won’t help us get our work done.”

Vasya nodded. “Just be back in time for pickling. Or…”

“Or what?”

“Or I will have to live for you,” Vasya told him solemnly and miserably. 

Grigori nodded. He had to do his best to be back, and how he hoped that Luck would be with them so he could be back in time for their anniversary. He really didn’t want Vasya to live for him. He wanted them to live together in their home with their four dogs and their four cats. 

Besides, if he were honest, he didn’t really believe Vasya, because he knew what he would do if he lost Vasya. He would go find his husband. And when he did, who knew if they would even lie together in that forsaken crypt that Mark would choose for them? No, he had to come back. 

He pulled away from Vasily and his thoughts; it was bad luck to think like that. “I wonder, what’s for breakfast?”

Vasya smiled at him. “I don’t know. Let’s go find out. And then, I’ll speak to Evgeni and the others?”

“Yes, thank you.” He stood up. “Bathroom is mine.”

“Grisha!”

He snorted and ran. Like fuck he would spend the day or days before going to Ustvela being miserable. The question was, how could he ask for a few free hours for both of them, so they could spend them fucking? 

He decided. He would come back, and then ask for a week’s leave so they could fuck non-stop. He’d had it with work; he wanted a vacation. When he returned, he would ask for it and make his hard-working husband take one too. Enough was enough.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> starts at the same time as the other chapter ends  
> (it's another ridiculously long day where several things happen, and everything had to be split between chapters)

_same morning, Capital of the New Territory of Oerestand_

The Capital of the New Territory of Oerestand looked almost deserted as he rode through the main streets at the light of dawn. It looked prettier than he remembered, he realised. It really was a city of the West, with too many grand avenues, and tall buildings everywhere, not just along the main streets, as was the case at his Capital. There were public buildings too, a courthouse, theatres, and banks, not just the Shrines of Ancestral Honour of the Main Noble Families. 

His Capital ought to be like this, he thought as he reached the Governor’s Palace, the building that had been the Mayor’s palace when the territory was still under George’s control. And he had to have a modern palace, as modern as the Governor’s, with large windows and columns at the façade. Maybe; he wasn’t sure about the columns, but he definitely wanted large windows. 

He dismounted, handed the reins of his horse to one of his mounted Guards and ran up the stairs. The Guards on either side of the entrance stared at him with shock. He snorted. Mark would call it lack of discipline. “Open the doors,” he smirked. “And salute your Emperor.”

“Yes, Sir, Yes,” they jumped as they saluted him.

Goodness, he was not that terrifying, he thought as they opened the doors and he walked in. The reception area was long rather than wide, with twenty columns on the long side and five on the short ones, all of white gleaming marble. It was quite distinctive and noble, he thought, but so empty. 

Perhaps he ought to become frightening. Where were the Guards that were supposed to be guarding the Governor’s palace? Sleeping? That was definitely lack of discipline. Where were the slaves? They always scurried here and there from well before dawn at Ivanhof. 

He walked to the staircase behind the colonnade of the long side, the echo of his steps in his riding boots too loud in the quiet hall. Yet, no one seemed alerted by it. What the fuck? He really would be frightening when he saw the Governor, he decided. 

At least the Guards at the top of the stairs seemed more alert than the ones at the entrance, and had their swords unsheathed. So, someone had heard him after all. Behind him he heard several men in boots running. Had HIS Guard caught up, or was that the Governor’s?

He nodded approvingly. “Great, that’s good,” he said as he gestured for them to lower them. 

They stared at him incomprehensibly. 

“Lower your weapons,” Count Bitoulin shouted behind him. “Ten lashes for aiming at your Emperor.”

“Yes, but later,” he nodded. “Where the fuck is Duke Kreljevic?”

“Never mind that,” Major Kamenski shouted at him. “What the fuck were you thinking, running up like that?”

Nikolaj turned and stared at him. “Did you just swear at me?” He looked at Count Bitoulin. “Did he just swear at me?” He was not sure what he was feeling. Shock, definitely, but was he angry or amused by Major Kamenski’s words? 

Count Bitoulin stared at him. He took a deep breath, glancing at the Major, who looked pale, suddenly realising what he’d done. “Yes, but he was right. Running up without any of your escort?”

“We are in a hurry. If my Guards can’t keep up with Us, then We will have them replaced.” At the Count’s annoyed expression, he snorted. “As soon as it is possible, not before.” He turned and saw that the Guards had lowered their weapons, and that one of them was running along the corridor. “It seems like someone will notify Kreljevic,” he snorted. 

“You,” he nodded towards the other Guard. “Get someone to find Us a suitable room, and also prepare rooms for her Majesty, her Ladies, and her Secretary. And make sure Our room has the bath ready. And fetch Us tea. The strongest you have.” He nodded towards the Major and the Count. “Tea for everyone, I mean.”

“Yes, Sir, yes.” The guard saluted him and ran towards the other direction. 

“So far, not so good, Gentlemen,” he snorted as he turned towards the Major and the Count. “Your Excellency, can you please look into the situation here? They have been too lax. We would like no harsher punishment than ten lashes to be administered, though. We shouldn’t be maiming or killing men who fight for Us.”

“Of course, Sire.”

“As for you,” he turned to the Major, who still looked uneasy, “Well, We would very much like to say that you too deserve ten lashes for your behaviour, but you were right. We should have waited for Our Guards. Don’t do it again, though, or We will give you ten lashes personally in front of everyone.”

“Yes, Sir. Understood, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. 

Nikolaj grinned as he heard a soft, shuffling sound. “Ah, Governor,” he turned to the Duke. “We have much to discuss. Where can we have breakfast? We need tea. Or even coffee. That is stronger.” He laughed. “We drank while we rode last night. Ah, that was fun.” 

Ah, his Quhjani riders. They knew how to have fun. He liked them. 

&*&*

Nikolaj looked out of the window of the Governor’s palace. After breakfast, a bath, and a change of clothes, he felt refreshed and ready to continue with his work. “That’s her Majesty’s carriage. Ah, time for more theatre,” he snorted. 

Duke Kreljevic looked up from the floor for the first time since Nikolaj had informed him that he had to be a good host to Her Majesty, make sure she lacked for nothing, and allow her to get in touch with her runaway friends and courtiers. If she wanted to keep her contacts secret, then he was to let her, and allow her to think she was being sneaky. The Duke smiled with delight. “Theatre?”

“Yes,” he told him. “Royal theatre.” The Duke’s expression fell. That wasn’t what he was asking him, was it? “The theatres here are closed now, aren’t they?”

“Of course, according to Bosilik law.” He looked like he was about to say something, but lowered his eyes instead.

“Hm. We might be persuaded to open them again, as a gesture of good will towards Her Majesty. We wouldn’t want her to lack anything, would We?” he smirked. “You may ask Us after we have received her. In front of everyone.”

“Royal theatre, indeed,” the Duke muttered.

“Yes. You must tell me afterwards how good I was. In private. Not in front of others,” he clarified.

“Of course, Sire.”

“Good, good. Oh, and… Please, We would like to have cold soup and cheese for lunch. We had enough meat this week.” Meat for breakfast, meat for lunch, meat for dinner. He’d had enough. “Although… how are the sausages here?”

“Your Majesty?”

“At each town We stopped at Quhjan, sausages were prepared in a different way. We grew to appreciate local differences, and We are curious to see if you have them here, and how they are prepared.”

“Of course, Sire. I will make sure to have sausages at lunch.”

“Thank you. Remember, lunch will only be served after We have rested.” And had a chance to write to Our Most Perfect and Precious, he wanted to add, but didn’t. In the five days since he’d left Jedlowa, he hadn’t found a minute to himself to read his Love’s letters, let alone write to him. 

At the Governor’s nod, he turned around, walked out of his office and hurried down to greet Queen Adelaide at the entrance of the palace. Should he walk down the steps and walk up again with her, or wait for her to come up to him? What would look better to his audience? 

The mounted Guards and her carriage came to a stop in front of the Governor’s palace. The moment her coachman got down and opened her door, the crowd started cheering for her in a way they hadn’t cheered for him. Hm. Perhaps he should meet her half-way. 

She stepped out, looking ill. Perhaps he should meet her down. He made a tiny gesture and a guard stopped her from moving. As he walked down, trying to not look in a hurry, she took out a pouch and took a few deep breaths. 

“Your Majesty,” he told her with a pleasant smile, and the crowds started shouting his name and hers. That was better!

She smiled at him. “Sire, you must convey my thanks to His Majesty, Your Consort. Lavender is wonderfully restorative.”

“Yes, We will,” he said as he gave her his hand. “I hope you had a good trip?”

“Yes, I did.” She glanced back at the Lady carrying Augustus. The baby seemed to be thriving, unlike his mother. He hoped she didn’t die on him; he hated the idea of having to make arrangements for the baby’s household… Or… His darling could deal with it. 

When they reached the top of the steps, he stopped and turned to face her. “Welcome. May Luck shows us favour, so We can see you enter your rightful home again.” 

“Thank you.”

He knelt in front of her. “Lady, will you grant Us your favour before We go into battle for you?” He asked her in Oerestandish. 

She looked at him as if she couldn’t understand him for a moment. Seriously, he had been practicing that damned phrase for a whole day. Had he picked up Major Kamenski’s Quhjani accent, that was why?

She whispered to him in Oerestandish, and he couldn’t understand a thing. None of what she said was in the possible answers that Major Kamenski had assured him she would use. Fuck. 

“Well?” he asked her softly in Valentinois.

“Of course,” she replied loudly in Oerestandish, and this time he understood her perfectly. She took out the brooch she was wearing and pinned it next to the little swan brooch he always wore when he was away from His Darling. Then she said something more in Oerestandish that had the people shouting. “Please, rise,” she whispered to him.

When he did, she waved at the people and he also waved at them. His Quhjani cavalry started whistling in approval. 

“When you spoke Oerestandish with such a clear Southern accent, I was shocked,” she smiled at him as he took her hand and led her inside. “I asked you, why didn’t you speak to me in Oerestandish, if you could speak it so well?”

“I only know a few phrases,” he grinned. “But they worked, didn’t they?” He could still hear the people shouting their names and things in Oerestandish that he hoped were good. They did not sound angry, at least. 

“Indeed, Sire. The people wish you success in your battles, and to bring back the head of that wretched traitor Fredrik,” she smiled. 

“I will try my best,” he promised her. “Is a Southern accent a bad thing?” he asked her. 

“No,” she smiled sweetly, “it’s a very musical accent and,” she started saying but faltered as the doors closed behind them. Her other lady-in-waiting rushed to support her.

Nikolaj grabbed her with both hands. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine. It was a long ride and….” She smiled beautifully at him as she put her hand over her belly. “Whoever is here, is full of excitement.”

Nikolaj stared at her. “Congratulations,” he remembered to say a moment later. No wonder she was unwell all the time. He grinned. “That George.” Even sick, he had still managed to get it up and plant a baby in her belly. What a guy. He had deserved to be his rival. 

“He loved me so much,” she sighed. “And I loved him. Sire, I swear to you, I will never marry another man and I will be faithful to his memory.”

“You are too young to make such a vow,” he told her kindly. “We do not accept it.”

“Excuse me?”

“We do not accept your vow. We believe that you want to be faithful to him, but will not begrudge you if…”

She stopped. “Sire, if you restore the crown of Oerestand to me and my son, I will have to be faithful to his memory. No Regent can rule when she puts another Master over her head. My son and my dead husband are the only Masters I will have from now on.” 

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought of that. “How right you are. Forgive me.”

He glanced back at the Governor. “You forgot the theatre,” he shouted at him. “We will play that scene at dinner. Madame,” he told her, “Duke Kreljevic will take you to your rooms. We will rest for a while now. See you later, Madame.”

“Sire.” They embraced and he went to his room. He had so many things to write to his Darling.

&*&*

He huffed as he re-read for the third time his Darling’s letter informing him about the Guards and how he had rewarded them. He didn’t mind the questions about whether he was eating all his food. Elik would not be Elik if he didn’t worry about something, and, after almost a week of riding next to the Quhjani, who really cared about food as much as Mark cared about fucking, he had come to accept it was a Quhjani thing, not an Elik thing. A thing he liked, if he were honest. He liked his darling worrying over him, and asking if he was eating well. He liked his darling being his sweet, little wife! 

Seriously, though, wanting to ask his permission about rewarding the Guards. Telling him he would pay him back. Saying he’d overstepped his boundaries. What the…. 

Nikolaj took a very deep breath and stepped out of the bedroom into the antechamber. “Where is Count Bitoulin?”

Count Njedzic stood up immediately. “He is overseeing the punishment of the Governor’s Guards. He decided they all need to be lashed and does not trust their commanders to discipline them.”

“Good.”

He walked out, but turned around a moment later. “Where are they being punished?”

“At their Barracks.”

He looked at one of his Guards right outside his door. “You. Take Us to the Barracks.”

The man saluted him and hurried down, Nikolaj following him. 

Honestly, His Darling drove him mad! He could be his sweet, little wife all he wanted, but not when it came to matters of State! He needed him to be strong and brave and, most importantly, independent and working well together with his Council. He didn’t need…. He growled. “How far are the Barracks?” 

The Guard started walking so fast, he was practically running. 

The Barracks were behind the Palace, separated by a tall hedge from the formal garden that reminded him of the gardens he had seen at Valentin. He would like to take a walk there in the evening. Yes, that would be most enjoyable. 

The Guard led him through the building into a courtyard with three benches in the middle. Each had a Guards, shirtless and wearing only his breeches, was tied down on it, as his Lieutenants whipped their back with a simple whip. The Guards who waited for their punishment were all gathered on one side of the courtyard, and looked terrified. How many were there? 

“A whole fucking regiment needs to be whipped?” he shouted, angry at the lack of discipline in addition to his anger. 

Count Bitoulin approached him. “Yes, Sire. Five lashes for everyone, and ten for those who aimed at you and those who were not at their posts his morning.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. “Give me that,” he told one of his Lieutenant the moment the tied man’s comrades started releasing him from his bonds. 

“Sire?”

“We are mad,” he growled, “at the obvious lack of discipline in this place,” he shouted. He was also mad at his Love, but he was not the monster that would shout at him. No, he would rather correct his errant Guards until he was calm enough to write to his Darling without the urge to shout at him. His Love hated being shouted at. 

“We wonder,” he said as he took the whip and struck it once in the air, “If we should also punish all the Commanding Officers, and not just the Guards. And maybe even the Duke’s staff,” he continued as one of the Guards was being tied down on the bench in front of him. 

Count Bitoulin frowned. “It is against the law to punish Nobles and officers without an inquest, trial, and judgement.”

He snorted. “That is only for major crimes. We have the right to whip our servants as We see fit in order to discipline them, but We are also merciful. Five?” he asked the Count.

The man nodded with a carefully blank expression. 

He struck the tied Guard once. “You could have used the great whip, the one with the nine tails,” he huffed when the man barely made a sound after he’d been hit.

“You ordered us not to maim or hurt anyone, Sire.”

“Yes, I did,” he muttered, grumbling, as he hit the man again. “Our Most Noble and Powerful Grandfather would have killed one man in every ten for this behaviour,” he said as he struck him, and this time, the Guard whimpered. “We are merciful,” he shouted as he administered the last two lashes quickly, one after the other. 

“Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir,” the Guard told him in a wavering voice as he was being untied. 

“See?” He grinned at the Count. “He knows he deserves it.” He looked at the Guards still waiting to be disciplined and how they looked even paler than before. Some looked like they were about to faint. “Ah, fuck it,” he muttered. “We are merciful,” he shouted, “And We can see that you have learned your lesson. No more lashings for the rest of you. But, if We hear that you were not in your posts again, there will be no mercy. You will all receive ten lashes, including your commanding officers. Have a doctor see to those who were whipped to make sure they were not seriously hurt. And give them three days off so that they can recover well and be fit for service soon.” He snorted. As if they could have been hurt much with that baby whip. Mark used that for fun! He’d seen him!

The Guards saluted him with obvious relief. 

He smiled at the Count. “It is good to be merciful,” he nodded, “But do send their commanding officers to my room later. We must reprimand them for allowing this behaviour.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Great, thank you. We shall see you at lunch,” he told him as he hurried back to his rooms, finally ready to write to his Darling without the urge to scream at him. 

He smiled at his secretary as he closed the doors of his room behind him. Yes, he really was up to writing to his Precious without shouting! He sat at the desk, and dipped his quill into the inkpot as he glanced at the letters from Him still unfolded on his desk, one next to the other. 

_2nd of Fire Month_

_My Delightful and Most Precious Darling,_

Yes, his Darling was always delightful, he reminded himself. His body so responsive, his taste so sweet, his lust as great as Nikolaj’s. And he was clever too! He wasn’t just pretty! How could he be mad at him for long?

He took a few deep breaths. He would not shout at Him. He would be the best Husband anyone had ever had, a Devoted Husband replying to his Darling, to his Sweet, to his Precious. He would not be the Great and Mighty and Most Good Emperor of Bosilke, who’d left behind a floundering Regent and who would lose face in front of his Council if His Most Gracious Consort did not grow the fuck up by the time he was back at Ivanhof. 

“I’m a Husband writing to my Darling,” he told himself once more, before looking at his Love’s first letters, the ones where his love was just his sweet wife, and picking up the quill again. 

_I hope you are well. We arrived at the Capital of the New Territory of Oerestand and I dare say, I am getting quite good at Royal Theatre! But more on that later!_

_First, I have questions for you!_

_We find the name Fredriksborg unacceptable for the C of the New T of O. What do you think of Eliksborg? The bastards did make Us stop Our Progress, and made Us both very unhappy, so I thought it would only be right that the new name was something that would make you happy. What do you think?_

_Alternatively, I thought that, if Luck is not with us, but not completely against Us, we could name the C Augustsborg, after little Augustus. I keep wanting to call him Augie, because he’s so little for such a big name, but when I did it once, Her Majesty looked at me with great disapproval, so I haven’t done it since._

_Second question: Darling, are you the only man in Jedlowa who doesn’t drink? All my Quhjani riders drank a lot every night. They drink as if they were Bosilik! Also, they danced and sang all night – and made me stay and watch them, thus leaving me no time to write you these five days._

_Third question: Any luck with making the almond cookies?_

_Now, to answer your questions from all your letters of the last days._

_Darling, I am eating well and Major Kamenski makes sure I eat all my food, even when I am riding. So, worry not about that!_

_He is also the reason I could not write you. I swear, My Love, Each Night my Quhjani riders drank and sang and Major Kamenski insisted I stay and watch. Something about me being King and taking part in all the rituals. I liked it better when I was King from afar, and didn’t have to do anything._

_Regarding rewards. Our Most Perfect and Precious and Wonderful Consort, you may reward whomever you want with whatever you want. We are the Crown, and whoever pleases Us, renders services to Us. It is that simple._

_I was very glad to read that your Guards are such fine, dependable young men with such a lofty vision for Our Empire. We shall reward them too, and give them something appropriate for their services, and a wedding gift to each one who got married. I will think about it over the next hours and write the decree as an addendum to this letter._

_Let Us discuss your yearly budget later, after I have an overview of all your expenses. Can you ask Count Yalenkov to prepare a report for me when you are back home? Thank you._

Fuck, he didn’t want to deal with that. He’d sent the report back to Dima when he had it. 

_Duke Okdranov will be leaving tomorrow, so he will reach you together with this letter. He is looking forward to working with you on the reforms, and I am looking forward to reading what you come up with._

_I am also leaving tomorrow, but towards the direction of the front._

_My Most Sweet and Perfect Love, wish me Luck!_

_Always yours, your ever-loving Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. I will continue this after lunch, and tell you more about Our Royal Theatre_

_p.p.s. Major Kamenski’s wife makes great sausages – can you get her recipe?_

_p.p.p.s. Also, Major Kamenski asked if you could give his wife your recipe for the sweet bread you had sent Us. If you could make some more for Us to share, that would be wonderful. As well as sending Us almond cookies when you finally succeed in making them._

_p.p.p.p.s. Darling, all these discussions of food and recipes make me feel like I have been at Jedlowa for far too long, but I like it!_

_p.p.p.p.p.s. MY LOVE! I forgot the most important NEWS! Queen Adelaide is pregnant! She not only has George’s heir, but a spare as well. I will take such good care of her. The people here love her; they cheered her longer and louder than they cheered me – can you imagine that? Ah, let’s hope Luck is with Us!_

Yes, he really was over most of his anger. He took a few more deep breaths as he picked up another sheet and started writing again. 

_2nd of Fire Month,_

_Dear Mark,_

_Thank you so much for guiding Our Most Precious into his Journey of Governance._

_Can you, please, remember to always tell him that he’s done well, when he does well? Furthermore, from his latest letter, I had the impression that he is still insecure about what he can do – and he still feels he should be asking Us permission for doing things._

_Mark… I will speak honestly and as your friend: as His Husband, I find it extremely cute and charming that he wants reassurance and praise and I am more than happy to provide them. As a king that needs someone to take some of the burdens of ruling off him right now, though, I am very frustrated._

_The whole point of having a Regent is so I won’t have to deal with governing while I am fighting – I can’t divide my attention between two fronts. You know it as well as I do; I am happy to receive reports, but I want to be disturbed only if he wants to declare war to another country. It’s bad enough that I came at a territory that is still quite loyal to Dead Fucking George and his widow, governed by an incompetent idiot who cares more about theatre than discipline, and I must put things in order before I leave for the front, but… to have to deal with My Most Precious’ diffidence is too much!_

_I know you are doing your work VERY WELL, but can you take on this one added task? Can you hold his hand a little longer as you wean him off this bad habit of asking permission for everything and apologizing for what he does by the time you are back at Ivanhof? I thought I had managed to, but obviously not!_

Clearly, they should have talked more and fucked less on their return trip!

_Thank you._

_Ah, I do miss talking to you._

_Sincerely yours, your friend,_

_Nikolaj_

He folded and sealed both letters and stepped out of his room. “We are ready for lunch now,” he told his Secretary as he handed him the letters, “And We really hope they have sausages.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be two chapters, but then realised they don't need to be broken up. So, I'm near the end of this batch of chapters....
> 
> takes place in the same day as the previous chapter

_meanwhile at Jedlowa_

“Permission to sit and speak freely, Sir?” Evgeni managed to say after the Major had briefed him on the mission.

The Captain nodded. 

Evgeni collapsed on the chair. “I’m not good at this,” he whispered. “Captain, you know that I was only chosen for this Unit because of my looks, not my brains,” he told him desperately. “If His Majesty hadn’t come up with the idea of the Choir, I would have been posted at an Embassy and sent back to Bosilke already, because everyone would know how useless I am at this work.”

The Captain stared at him. “I will also speak freely.”

He nodded, wanting the earth to open up and swallow him. Why him?

“I know that stealing or opening locked doors or lying or getting people to talk are not among your strengths.”

He nodded again. Understatement. He was bad at everything that related to the Unit’s other work. Its true work. Intelligence gathering or spreading misinformation were not for him. 

“But you can listen when people talk, you know how not to reveal secrets, and you have a gift for languages. You started learning Ustvelan after we left Krzydzov, didn’t you? With Matuschek as your teacher?”

“Yes,” Evgeni said, not even thinking of denying it, even though he had tried to keep it a secret, fearing that he would be disciplined for wasting Matuschek’s time. The Captain always found out things, when he wanted to find out. Hadn’t he figured out who were the Guards who had spent time with the Chancellor just by looking at the roster, even though there were eight different possible Guards who might have done it? 

“I was hoping to take my leave in the summer and go see him…” He didn’t specify whom he wanted to see. That hadn’t been a secret in months. 

The Captain smiled softly, as he always did when anyone talked of matters of the heart. “Neither Maxim nor Valery know Ustvelan. If they find any documents, someone will have to translate them, or at least copy them, and I would rather not have Our Ambassador do that, unless it can’t be helped.”

“The Major knows Ustvelan.”

“Yes, but the Major will be too busy. If Maxim and Valery can bring documents to him, then maybe he can copy them, but he must also be visible at all times. No, it will have to be you. You will copy and translate whatever needs to be copied or translated.”

“Yes, Sir, I will do that, Sir,” he said, jumping up and saluting him. 

“At ease,” the Captain smiled. “You might not even have to do that,” he told him kindly. “Just keep your eyes and your ears open. Since marriages between men are recognised at Ustvela, as His Excellency’s Husband, you will move in the same circles as the Major. Two pairs of eyes and ears are always better than one.”

And I can keep an eye on the Major, Evgeni thought but didn’t say. 

“I know you are good at listening,” the Captain continued with the same encouraging expression. “Do what you are good at, and you will be fine.”

“Thank you, Sir. I will not let you down, Sir.”

“You won’t be letting me down, Private. You will be letting down the Empire.” He grinned. “No pressure.” His expression softened again. “I know that you will do well, and you will be fine,” he told him with firmness. “Now, can you ask Maxim to see me? Thank you.”

He stood in attention and saluted again before leaving the Captain’s office. He opened the door and smiled at Maxim. “In you go,” he whispered. “See you later.”

Maxim nodded and went inside. 

Evgeni leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and took a few deep breaths. The Captain believed he was ready and that he would be an asset to the team. He could do this. He could listen; he was good at that, and his Ustvelan was getting better every day. He didn’t know if it was good enough for translating, but he knew enough to be able to copy texts. He could do this. He would do this. 

He walked down and got out of the Councilman’s house. He should go pack, but that was not what he wanted to do. He went to His Majesty’s house and Emelyan and Adrian let him in immediately. He grinned as he thanked them. 

“He’s still up,” Karp told him with a smile, without looking up from his cards. 

“Want to join us?” Ignat asked him. 

“We’re about to finish this game,” Lev added. 

“Or you can join me in the kitchen,” Pavel grinned. “Nathalia is making more buns stuffed with cheese and I’m helping.”

“Eating the filling, you mean,” Karp snorted.

“That too,” Pavel laughed. “Hey, if she doesn’t mind, why should I?”

“No, thank you. I’ll come back later,” he said. How he wished there was an altar to Luck so he could offer some incense to Her. They would need it. 

On his way out he saw Valery heading towards Councilman Soltukof’s house. Ah, so he would be the other one to join them. It made sense. Valery’s fingers were magical. He could open anything. 

He continued staring at Councilman Soltukof’s house. Maxim and Valery were good choices, but… they were like him. Was that wise? Should he say something? Who was he to say something? If the Captain had chosen them, didn’t he know better? 

With a deep breath, he went to the Councilman’s house. He’d rather speak and be told off, than worry about this for days. 

Katya smiled at him from where she was reading in the corner. “Back again?”

He nodded as he climbed up the stairs. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself as he passed the first door to the left, where the Major had his office, and stopped outside the Captain’s door. If the Captain thought that he could handle a proper mission, he could do this too. 

The office door opened and Valery walked out with a smile. “We’re going on a mission,” he whispered excitedly. 

He nodded, trying to smile.

“You’ll be fine,” Valery continued whispering. “We’ll look after you. As they say at Sorain, all for one.”

“And one for all,” he whispered, smiling with true relief. Yes, he would be fine. They were all in this together. “I should go in,” he said and knocked on the door. 

“See you later,” Valery smiled and waved. 

“Enter.”

He opened the door and looked at the Captain. “Permission to speak, Sir?”

“Yes, but come in first,” he smiled at him. “What is it?” he asked once Evgeni was in. 

“The team, Sir.”

“What about it?”

“Well… both Maxim and Valery are like me.” The Captain stared at him, expression blank. “They like men only,” he elaborated. “Shouldn’t we have someone who will enjoy talking to Ladies?”

“How right you are, Private,” the Captain smiled, looking pleased. “An excellent idea. Thank you.” He frowned for a moment. “Carel and Sila?”

Evgeni thought of it for a moment. Both liked talking to Ladies as much as Maxim liked talking to Gentlemen, and they were so sneaky, they could hide in an empty room. He nodded. 

“Great. Can you let them know, please?”

“Will do, Sir.”

“Thank you. You see? When we all do what we are good at, we all do well. You should go pack, if you haven’t already, and I will see you later.”

He saluted and left, allowing himself to grin. He could do this!

As he stepped out of the Councilman’s house, he saw Thomas and his grin widened. “Husband,” he called him loudly, delighted that he could do it. 

“Husband,” Thomas smiled at him with pleasure. 

“Wait, wait.” He hurried to His Majesty’s house, passed Thomas and stepped inside. “The Captain wants to see Carel and Sila,” he told Karp and the others, who were still playing cards. “Can you let them now?”

“So you and your Husband can please yourselves greatly?” Lev laughed.

Evgeni stared at him, tempted to make a rude gesture! 

“Yes, yes, we will let them know,” Karp smiled at him. “Go and enjoy yourself, Genya!”

“Thanks! I owe you one,” he grinned as he hurried out, where Thomas was still waiting for him, looking like he didn’t know if he could or couldn’t talk to Emelyan and Adrian.

“So, you finished already,” he told him. 

“Yes,” Thomas nodded. “Last night, when I saw His Majesty and the Chancellor leave soon after eating, I thought they would go discuss today’s meeting, but I had no idea they would present me with full drafts. Count Rasoulin’s staff are now making copies, and adding all the official stuff that everyone skips when reading.”

“They are all very hard-working,” Evgeni told him, not minding that Thomas could not disclose what he had to discuss with His Majesty. This was not a secret he'd need to find out, since the Young Lord already knew it. 

“You can say that again,” Thomas grinned. “And what about you? What are your duties for the day?”

“I have to go pack my things.”

“Excuse me? You are leaving already?” Thomas looked crestfallen. “I thought… His Majesty mentioned he would be leaving soon, but that soon?”

Evgeni grinned as he took Thomas’ arm and started walking towards a shaded spot close to the river and away from the town centre. “Yes, but I won’t be leaving with them. I’ll be leaving with you.”

Thomas froze. “Really?”

He nodded. “It will only be for a few days, but…” he smiled dreamily. “His Majesty gave me a leave so we can have our honeymoon while…” he grinned as he made Thomas sit under an oak tree, “while the Major picks up a cameo.” 

“What?”

“The Captain, our Captain, likes them. Who do you think persuaded His Majesty go see Prince Krzyzanowslavski’s collection of gems?” He laughed and nodded at Thomas’ expression of disbelief. “He thinks it’s amazing that someone can carve something so delicate in such a small, hard surface. The Prince kindly offered him to choose whichever gem he wanted, but our Captain never does anything without his husband’s agreement. So, they decided to use the opportunity of being so close to Ustvela. The Major will go to Krzydzov, check the gem collection of the Prince and choose a cameo for them.”

Thomas looked at him. “Is that the excuse for checking the situation at Krzydzov?”

“It’s the truth,” he said firmly. The best way to hide the truth was by offering truths to cover it, after all, not lies. They rarely lied in the Unit; they just obfuscated a lot. 

“Fine,” Thomas snorted. “Cameos?”

Evgeni nodded again. “Yes. He is passionate about them.” He grinned. “Don’t let it slip, but we got him a cameo engraved with a chariot driven by the Maati god of wine and revelry at an auction at Aedley, as a thank-you gift for all the parties he organised. It is supposed to be ancient, but even if it isn’t, it is such a pretty gem that he will like it just for the craftmanship. We will give it to him when we are back at the Capital. Although,” Evgeni’s expression fell. “Maybe we will give it to him after we are back from Krzydzov.” He didn’t know why the idea of leaving Thomas made him so sad, when he had already accepted that they would need to be apart until Thomas joined him at the Capital. 

“Cameos,” Thomas repeated, sounding even more incredulous.

“Yes,” he said again. “Even the ring he gave to the Major, his husband, has a cameo.” At Thomas’ unspoken question, he replied. “It’s tradition at Bosilke to exchange rings during the wedding ceremony.” 

“Then we should also exchange rings. We will buy them at Krzydzov.”

He leaned against Thomas and let his head drop on his shoulder. “I would like that so much,” he whispered as he reached for his hand and looked at the river glistening gold in the sunlight.

“And what ring did the Major give to the Major? Your Major. Ah, this is so confusing,” he laughed.

Evgeni nodded. It could be. “Ah, his ring is even more wonderful. He made it himself.” He turned a little so he could look at Thomas. “I really hope we will be as devoted and faithful to each other as the Majors. They’ve been together half their lives and never looked at another person.”

Thomas swallowed, looking a little panicked. 

“Or, you know,” Evgeni laughed, seeing Thomas’ sudden realisation that he expected marital fidelity from him, “talk about whether we take others in our bed before doing it.”

“Erm….” Thomas suddenly paled. “Did you? Take others?”

Evgeni hit him. “No. It was a surprise even to myself that I fell for you,” he said softly. “But I really liked you,” he continued. “I couldn’t get you out of my head. Or my heart.”

Thomas stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere we can be alone. Didn’t you say I can’t even kiss you in public here? Right now,” he lowered his voice, “I want to do more than kiss you.”

Evgeni stood up. “You want to have your way with me, Husband?”

“I was thinking, maybe you can have your way with me?” Thomas laughed.

Evgeni offered him his arm, and when Thomas took it, he grinned. “I think I will like our honeymoon.”

“Especially since I have a feeling it will start as soon as we get the copies of the agreements,” Thomas told Evgeni. “The Major does not strike me as a man who can wait when it comes to getting cameos for his husband.”

Evgeni smiled at him, feeling honoured that Thomas had chosen to share this with him. So, that was what he was doing there, apart from bringing news about Prince Anton? Closing some secret agreements between Valentin and Bosilke? “Thomas, you are always so very interested in other people’s husbands when you are with me,” he chided him, pretending he hadn’t understood what Thomas had really said. 

Thomas kissed his hand. “You shouldn’t worry, I only want you, Husband.”

Evgeni resisted the urge to grab Thomas and carry him to their room. They probably wouldn’t approve of it in Jedlowa. Or Bosilke, come to think of it. 

Oh, how many months until the Winter Solstice Ball? Then he would definitely carry Thomas around before he had his way with him! 

&*&*

_Jedlowa, 2nd of Fire Month,_

_My Heart, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you? I hope you are well._

_As I had written to you, yesterday was a special day. In addition to the eighteen Guards getting married to their Quhjani sweethearts, Ivan and Fedot also decided to get married, thus ending the gossip about their relationship. In addition to them, Roman and Stepan, as well as the Lesnevs decided to renew their vows, but the biggest surprise came when Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur, Valentin Ambassador to Ustvela, came to Jedlowa this afternoon, overcome by love, and married Evgeni._

_As you can imagine, the feast for this joyous occasion continued well into the night. How I wish I could say that this was the reason I did not write to you last night._

_His Excellency, the Valentin Ambassador, came authorised to make a new treaty between Us and Valentin, in the hopes that our alliance would counteract the alliance formed by Rodtal, Ustvela, and Oerestand._

_Husband, the Chancellor and I wrote the treaty and negotiated a new trade agreement between Us and Valentin. My Love, they need us more than we do! But they have all sorts of nice things we want..._

_Mark and I spent most of the night yesterday coming up with a fair agreement for both our countries. I am attaching copies so you can see what we did, and His Excellency signed them already on behalf of King Charles._

_His Excellency also brought Us news of Prince Anton’s illness. My Love, Prince Anton is even more unwell than I was when I left Ivanhof. He tried to persuade his father not to break the alliance between our countries, and when he failed to persuade him with words, he tried to do so by arms. He is now held at the Castle of Svjetlski!_

_Everyone thinks that we must wait, since protesting now might reveal that His Excellency came here to act as Our informant, so I am waiting to hear from our Ambassadors elsewhere about Prince Anton’s health before I protest. And We will protest! Anton is Our friend, and We shared wine with him._

_The Lesnevs, though, think that even though we can wait before making a formal protest, we cannot wait to find out how things are at Ustvela. They persuaded Us of that, and We allowed G to go assess the situation there._

_I admit that I am worried, but since I trust that V would never do anything against Our interests, so this too is for Our Good and the Good of Our Empire._

_We have also decided to establish a Shrine to Our Honoured Bosilik Ancestors here, so that we can all offer incense and pray to Luck for your success and their safe return. I need to go inform the Council of Elders of Our decision now, and if they don’t like it, well, too bad. Being part of One Empire does not mean that Bosilik will accept the Quhjani customs only, but that Quhjani will also accept Bosilik customs._

_I miss you so much, My Love, but I want you to succeed even more!_

_Your devoted Husband and Your Most Loyal Subject,_

_Your Elik_

He folded and sealed the letter before grabbing another piece of paper. At least the letter to Alexandre would be easier to write. It had taken him so much effort and so many drafts before he could write something without his usual nagging and worries. Nikolaj did not need that from him. Nikolaj needed him to do his duty. 

Besides, he smiled, he was not Nikolaj's whore, or his peasant, or even his meek and accepting Empress. He glanced at the paper at the top of his desk with the lessons he’d learned the night before.

_I am worthy of living.  
I am worthy of love.  
I am worthy of what I have.  
I will live for myself.  
I will live for my friends.  
I will make them all proud (myself included)_

Grigori’s idea of writing them fifty times twice a day was not practical, but even writing them once had been good for him. Looking at them as he drafted his letter to His Husband, had served as a constant reminder of who he was and who he had become. He was Elik of Quhjan, descendant of Great Dukes, and had become Elik of Bosilke, Husband and Regent to a Most Powerful Emperor, and he would do more than his duty; he would make his friends, his homes, His Husband and himself proud. 

He re-read Alexandre’s letter once more before writing his reply. 

_Sorain, 16th of Summer_

_My Dearest Elik,_

_How are you? I hope life as a warrior’s husband finds you well and not brooding excessively. My Brother says that warriors like to read how their sweethearts pine and miss them, but they do not take kindly to excessive misery and complaining. I don’t know how it is at Bosilke, but I asked around and they all said the same thing as Charles. So, I do hope that you are well and in good spirits (and that you hide some of your sorrow at being parted from your Husband from him)._

_Here, things are going well. Charles’ Royal brothers and their Most Honoured Spouses left this morning and Sorain feels too quiet. We did miss you all these days. And the Guards! Just joking! Well, kind of… The Guards were really charming but we all missed you!_

_Her Highness’ pregnancy is progressing without problems, and we have started decorating a suite of rooms for the baby. She has been kind enough to let me deal with that – nice and accommodating though she is, she has little taste for these things. I still find it strange that we will become parents. I don’t feel ready for it, and neither does Her Highness, yet now, we both want this child!_

_My big news, though, is this! Even though it is early days still, I think that the Marquis de Plaisis and I are …. Dare I write it? I dare, I dare! We are a couple! I would never have thought of him as someone suitable, but how did you know that he would be good for me? You are so very sneaky, Your Majesty! And I thank you for it!_

_Even if it does not work out in the future, I am in your debt for these days! So far, they have been wonderful!_

_Elik, I think I am in love! And I think he loves me back!!_

_I must see him every minute of the day, so I will stop now and go meet him. AH, how could you stand being away from Your Husband if you felt even half of what I am feeling for him? You are stronger than me!_

_Your ever-honest brother,  
Alexandre_

Elik grinned just as he had done the first time he’d read it. Ah, how happy that made him. 

_Jedlowa, 2nd of Fire Month,_

_My Dearest Alexandre,_

_How are you?_

_It was with such delight that I got your letter of the 16th of the previous month! So, you and the Marquis de Plaisis? Back at Sorain, I had thought you would have preferred the Marquis de Caglieres, since you had mentioned that de Plaisis was boring!_

_You must write me MORE!!!_

_As for me, I am well and trying to get used to life not just as a warrior’s wife but as an Emperor’s Regent! It hasn’t been easy – I had been trying so hard all these months to figure out what it means to be a good Empress for Him, and now He wants me to be something completely different!_

He stopped and looked out of the window. He had chosen this himself, he reminded himself, back when he’d decided that he’d rather abandon the simple life of a war-caught bride for that of an Empress, but, ah how Nikolaj confused him by wanting him to be so many different things. And how he wanted to please Nikolaj, oh how much. 

How confusing it was to want to please someone like Nikolaj, who changed his mind about what he expected of him, and expected so much of him. Ah, but how he wanted to please him. Apart from their first weeks together (and the night of that wretched Winter Solstice Ball), Nikolaj had been kind to him, and he had waited for him to love him back with a patience he didn’t expect from someone so used to being obeyed immediately. And then…

He smiled as he traced his lips with the end of his quill, the slight touch making him shiver. Nikolaj pleased him so greatly! He’d never imagined that a body could be capable of so much pleasure. “Ah, Husband,” he sighed as he lifted the locket with His portrait and opened it. “I do miss you,” he whispered as he kissed it. 

He wondered if Vasily had missed his husband as much as he had, or if Grigori had missed Vasily like that. They seemed to lack the madness he felt when he was away from Nikolaj (all spirits above, what had possessed him when he heard His Husband’s voice at Sorain? Even now he remembered the way he’d felt that moment, like his heart missed a beat and then tried to escape his chest). Then again, every time he saw them together, they were either holding hands or subtly touching each other, and they finished each other’s sentences. 

They were beyond mad passion. They were where he wanted to be with Nikolaj in ten years. 

Surely, they would like something as thoughtful as this, he smiled as he kissed Nikolaj’s portrait one more time. 

He closed the locket and went back to the letter. 

_At least I have such good friends here who are ready to help me and guide me and… I am not alone, Alexandre! I used to feel so alone and lonely before, but now I see that I have friends. True friends. And you are one of them. I don’t think I would have figured out what it means to be His Consort without your help, and I know that your advice is good and true. You are so right; I nag too much, and He doesn’t need it._

_You will never believe what happened since we returned back home!_

Elik stopped writing. If he wrote EVERYTHING that had happened (well, Everything that was not a State Secret), it would take him hours to finish his letter to Alexandre, and he had more pressing things to do. He put it in a drawer, took the letter for His Husband, and left his room to find Irina before going shopping, Oleg following behind him. 

He scratched his ears, smiling. How had Mark known that he would wake up in the middle of the night after a weird dream that he’d mercifully forgotten, needing to hug someone so badly he was in pain? Ah, what would he do without Oleg? But more importantly, what would he do without his friends?

Even if he was half-certain that Vasily and Grigori were witches. Good ones, but still, witches! How had they known of the wound he hadn’t known he had? And how had they made him feel better? They had to be witches! 

He knocked on the the door to Count Rasoulin’s bedroom-turned-office. “Your Excellency?” he said, as he opened it, “Hello,” he smiled at everyone. “Can you please send this to His Majesty together with the copies of the agreements?”

“Of course.”

“How is that going?”

“Progressing nicely, but even with both mine and the Chancellor’s under-secretaries working together, it will take some time. We need at least two or three more hours.”

“I see. Thank you so much for your hard work,” he told everyone as he gave the letter to the Count. “Notify me as soon as you have finished, so that we can sign everything, and I will see you all later.” 

Now, on to see Irina! 

&*&*

Stepan felt someone hit him on the back. Startled, he almost dropped his hammer. 

“Hello, Cousin,” Vanya laughed. “Nice work. The only thing that’s missing, it’s a large knitted blanket falling off the sides.”

“Erm,” he whispered, looking at Roman. 

Roman turned around. “I hope you came to help?”

“But you have everything under control.” He looked at the wagon he and Roman had been modifying for the last hour. Neither he nor Roman ever expected that the carpentry tricks Roman had picked up on the trip would ever come of use, and yet, there they were. 

“I think it’s good,” Stepan whispered, pleased with their work. “We attached all five bows to the main frame with metal fittings and,” he checked the closest bent piece of wood, “See? It’s secure. They will hold the weight of the cloth.”

“Now we need to tie the cover so we can finish with the roof over the wagon,” Roman added, also looking satisfied. 

“And add the knitted blankets,” Vanya continued, grinning. 

Roman tried to elbow him. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Vanya laughed as he jumped away from him. “It is good,” he told them, making Stepan feel happy. “I am certain that it will offer a lot of protection to Granny Fenya and your Mother. Sorry it took me so long, Sana and I woke up really late this morning,” he laughed, looking very satisfied with everything, “but I did come to help.”

“Good.”

Vanya whistled. “I would have come sooner, but I had to bring some friends,” he continued, as Igor and Samuil and Genady and … Stepan stopped counting after Yulian and Geert, waved and whistled at them as they walked from behind the house where they must have been hiding. 

“What? Did you think that only Granny Fenya will have a covered wagon? We need to make one for all the Mamas and the Grannies. I bet that even Sana’s Mother will regret not joining us.” He bowed to Stepan. “We await your instructions, Master Stepan.”

Stepan blushed deeply. “I…” he muttered. “I thought you had the day off,” he told the Guards.

Igor snorted. “Come on, days off are for ordinary people. We are Imperial Guards, and we put duty first. To our country, to our lord, to our family.”

“To family,” they all shouted. 

“You are mad,” Stepan whispered, smiling softly at Vanya and Roman.

“Says the person who came up with the idea of covering a wagon so that his Mama wouldn’t get sunburned during the journey. Cousin Stepan, you are as mad as we are,” Vanya laughed at him. 

“And you’re our family,” Genady smiled as he hugged him. 

“We take care of family,” Vadim told him solemnly. “So, what do we do? Where do we start? The wagons to be modified will be here soon. Mirko and Foma have started going around gathering them as soon as Vanya told us what you were doing."

“I’m not sure if we have enough bows.”

“We’ll make some more. Or make square arches.”

“An arch can’t be square.”

“You know what I mean.”

Stepan looked at them. Alexey and Vadim could argue for hours. “Erm…” he muttered and they all fell quiet, and looked at him! “Maybe we could check what we have?”

Roman hugged him for a second. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered. “My Master Stepan.”

Stepan blushed, but Roman was right. He was the one who knew how they could make these modifications, because he had come up with them! Him! And he would make the best covered wagons for his family. All his family, not just his Mama!

&*&*

“Enter,” Vasily said without looking up from the letter he was writing.

“Hey,” Grisha smiled at him. 

“Hey to you,” he replied immediately, smiling as he looked up. “Can it wait for a moment? I’m …”

“His Majesty requested our presence,” Grisha told him from where he was leaning against the door frame.

“But I only need a moment to finish the letters of introduction for you. Can’t you pretend you informed me later?”

Laughing, Grisha stepped out of the room and closed the door again. 

Hurriedly, he added the last line to the letter to Duke Bjeliovic-Kontoff. 

_Any good offices to him will be most gratefully received._

_With everlasting esteem,_

_your humble servant_

As he was signing, Grisha knocked again. “Enter.”

“All done?”

He nodded. “One for Duke Bjeliovic-Kontoff, one for the Prince, one for Count Soshtre, and one for Master Meinart, if you have any free time.”

Grisha’s eyes widened. “The author of the Complete Gardener? With the techniques of how to cultivate citrus trees in the north?”

He nodded. 

Grisha shut the door behind him, crossed the room, walked around the desk and lifted him off the chair. “Thank you,” he whispered as he hugged him. “I will find free time for him.” He smiled. “And now we must make time to see His Majesty. I would much rather spend our time together,” he moaned as he kissed him chastely on the lips. 

“Fucking work?” Vasily snorted.

“You said it,” Grisha laughed. “Come on, we have to go see what he wants,” he said as he moved back and away from him, leading him to the door by the hand. 

He’d probably tell them that the treaties had been copied and Grisha had to leave with Thomas and the others. “Yes. You will be careful, won’t you?”

Grisha stopped walking. “Yes.” 

“And you will come back as you are?”

“Yes.” Grisha frowned. “What’s the matter with you? It’s not the first time one of us leaves the other.”

“No, but…” Eighteen years in three days. 

“Eighteen years in three days?” Grisha asked him. “True, we’ve never been apart on the anniversary of our meeting.” He closed the small distance between them and hugged him. “We will manage, Vasya. We always do.”

“That is true,” he chuckled. “Did you do any work done?”

Grisha nodded. “I spent all day writing instructions for Alec. He will hate me when he finds out.”

“Poor man. He’ll have to manage the Reds himself.”

“I think Mark must find a replacement for Kosuchov regardless of how the inquest is going. Running a whole fucking regiment is too much work for one man.”

Vasily nodded. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that anymore.”

“You’re an ass,” he snorted. “Rubbing it in that you are in charge of just a hundred Guards,” Grisha smiled. “Not that I envy you. I’m in charge of real men. Your men are babies.”

“No, they are not, they are all very capable and dependable young men.”

Grisha laughed. “Well, I will test them myself soon, and let you know how they compare to mine.”

“You do that.”

“I will.” Grisha nuzzled him. “Hey.”

“Hey to you. What is it?” 

“Promise me you won’t mope on our anniversary.”

“It will be difficult,” he whispered.

“Just remember what a pain in the ass I am,” Grisha laughed. 

“You are not.”

He snorted. “Yes, I am. Even when we had first met, I was a pain. Remember that first summer, when you were so horrified that I wouldn’t be able to write to you after you’d left for your winter home, because I didn't know how, that you taught me letters yourself? And instead of being just grateful, which I was, I kept asking you why the letters had those shapes and not others.”

“I remember how brilliant you were, asking questions I hadn’t even dreamed existed.”

“And then I made you spend months trying to find out the answers,” Grisha laughed again. 

“A task that was most welcome. My tutors had never seen me so focused on my lessons. Without you, I would never have learnt anything.” He took a deep breath. “I know what you’re doing.”

“And I don’t know why it’s not working.”

“I don’t know either,” Vasily told him. “Stay out of Francis’ way. Please?” he whispered, playing with Grisha’s hair. 

“I’ll have to meet him at some point, if our Ambassador does not present me to him.”

“Say you’re sick.”

Grisha stared at him. “You worry too much and I don’t think it suits you. Stop it.” His expression softened. “When you are worried, you make me worried. I’ll be fine, Siuta.”

He nodded. He knew Grisha could take of himself, but that couldn’t stop him from worrying. But he really had to stop showing it; if Grisha got worried, then the Guards would also get worried, and that would be bad for their morale. “I know.” He let him go and led him towards the door. “Let’s see what He wants.”

Smiling, Grisha followed him out. 

They waved at Katya, who was reading at a corner, and walked out. The sunlight made him frown. “It’s been a very warm summer so far. It makes me wonder; do you think we will have a bad winter?”

“Perhaps. Wasn’t it so five years ago? That was the warmest summer I could remember until this one, and that was followed by the harshest winter in my memory.”

They smiled. “We’ll see,” they said at the same time. 

Karl and Inge opened the door to His Majesty’s house. “Well…” Grisha started saying, but His Majesty was there, waiting for them in the reception area, looking quite majestic in his deep blue robes for the Council meetings. They saluted him. 

“Hello,” he smiled as he approached them and took their free hands into his. “I know I am keeping you from work, but I had this most marvelous idea,” he said as he guided them towards the garden, “that I couldn’t help myself. Forgive me.”

“Your Majesty, never apologise to a subordinate,” Grisha told him. “Please.”

“But I am keeping you from your work.”

“Our work is protecting you and keeping you safe,” Vasily told him. “A work done more easily when we are at your presence.”

“Hm.” He stepped out in the garden, looking unconvinced. 

“What if you apologized only when you were really sorry, or had done something that truly demanded an apology?” Vasily told him gently. “You could have said, ‘thank you for indulging me’ or something like that.”

Grisha glanced at him. 

He smiled at him. 

“I see,” His Majesty said softly. He walked to the end of the garden where Her Excellency was waiting, looking uncomfortable and like she wanted to run away but couldn’t. 

His Majesty lifted a chain from around his neck. “Irina had this made for me,” he told them as he showed them a golden pendant with Their Majesties’ monograms. The next moment he opened it and showed them His Majesty’s portrait and note. “It brings me such comfort to have this, that I thought that maybe you would like something like it?” 

He reached into his robes and took out two plain golden round lockets. “I do apologize for their plainness. These were the only ones that were available immediately at the jeweller’s.” He grinned. “I hadn’t realized that we only have one jewellery shop selling such objects in the whole of Jedlowa. We are so provincial compared to the capital.” He gave them to Irina. “With your permission, Irina will paint your portraits, so you can have one each.”

Grisha opened his mouth and closed it immediately.

“This is too great an honour,” he started saying.

“But?” Elik told him curiously. “You don’t like it?”

“No, but…”

“I want to paint your portraits,” Her Excellency whispered with a deep blush. 

“Please?” both of them asked them. 

Vasily and Grisha shared a look. Grisha nodded first. “Thank you, Sire.”

“Thank you,” he smiled at them. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to establish an altar to Luck before you go. You will want to offer incense there before leaving, won’t you?” He nodded. “Yes, that would be good, won’t it? I’ll see you at lunch.”

They saluted him as he ran back to his house. 

Her Excellency looked even more awkward after His Majesty had left. “Erm….” 

“Where do you want us to sit?” Grisha asked her, as if he had no idea about how rude she had been towards him. 

“Here? The light is good for drawing,” she told them as she showed them a spot near the cherry trees and took out her pencils from their case. “Erm… may I also draw you? I mean, together?”

“For your own private collection?” Vasily smiled at her as he sat down cross-legged, unable to stop himself from teasing her a little. “Or for Lady Olga?”

Her Excellency reddened. “You told him,” she hissed, looking annoyed and embarrassed at the same time. 

“Your Excellency,” Grisha told her as he sat down facing him. He took Vasily’s hand in his again, “We have been together for eighteen years, and married for fourteen. Of course, he told me,” he said as he kissed Vasily’s fingers and stared at him. 

“Eighteen years?” She gasped and Vasily glanced at her. Her expression was strange, as if she wanted to swoon and was too shocked to do anything at the same time. “That’s such a long time. I can’t even imagine it.”

“Perhaps one day you will,” Vasily told her, turning his attention back to Grisha. How green his eyes were in the sunlight. He still hadn’t found a stone to match their colour.

“Yes, perhaps,” she sighed. “Well, may I?”

“Only if we are happy with the portraits,” Grisha told her. 

“Hm, you will be,” she said proudly as she sat down, facing them. “His Majesty is happy with my work, so you should be too.”

“How right you are,” Vasily told her soothingly. 

She started drawing. “Eli said you are leaving with the Ambassador and Evgeni?” 

Grigori nodded. 

“But you will be back, right? Eli… he was worried.”

Grigori and Vasily shared a look. “If I may say this, His Majesty is always worried,” Vasily smiled. 

“Yes, yes, that’s true. But he was more worried than usual.”

“Ustvela and the Empire do not have the same good relations as they did a few months ago. Ustvela is now Oerestand’s ally, not ours.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “I hope there is no war between us. We are next to Ustvela. So, he’s worried because of that?” 

“Yes,” Vasily smiled at her. 

She nodded. “Eli wouldn’t want you to get caught up in that,” he told Grigori, “but, I guess, if you are going, you go because you must.”

“Indeed, Your Excellency.”

“Hm.” She fell quiet as she drew. 

Vasily studied her. She really would have made a great Empress. He squeezed Grisha’s hand and he smiled at him. Yes, this was a waste of their work time, but it was also so wonderful to sit under the pleasant shade, and stare into Grisha’s eyes. It was almost as if they were back home, in their own garden, under their own trees. How he had longed for such a moment, especially as they had travelled further and further away from the Empire. And now that he had it, it was only because Grisha would be leaving soon. 

And he would spend the next weeks longing for Grisha in their garden, as if he hadn’t spent months desiring this. Ah, but why was he overthinking? As long as Luck returned Grisha to him, he would wait and wait. Any other thought was unlucky, so he forced himself to sit quietly and enjoy what he had. Grisha’s warm hand in his, Grisha’s soft smile, Grisha’s ever teasing gaze focused on him. 

How happy he was with what he had! 

Her Excellency coughed, startling him. He turned towards her. 

“What do you think?” she said, showing them what she had drawn. 

She truly was talented. They both looked so happy. Ah, how greatly pleased they were with each other, and no one would ever doubt it if he saw their portraits. 

“I think they are wonderful,” Grisha said with awe in his voice. 

“So, may I draw you together?” she insisted.

Grisha nodded. “Do you want us to sit somewhere else?”

She reddened. “I want… I want you to sit as if you were at your garden. Not posing, but being.”

“As you wish, My Lady.” Grisha suddenly winked at him. Before he could move, Grisha shifted, lay across him and put his head across Vasily’s lap. He grinned at him. “Hey.”

“Hey to you,” he grinned back, unable to tell him that it was not proper to arrange himself like that in front of Her Excellency. He put his left arm under Grisha’s head to make him more comfortable, and Grisha took his right hand between his and brought their joined hands to rest over his heart.

“Sing to me?” Grisha mouthed. “The Path?”

He nodded, staring into Grisha’s eyes. No, he had been wrong; he didn’t long for a moment with Grisha in their garden. He just wanted a moment with Grisha. A moment, a life, whatever he could get. 

“Where is the path I need to take? Snow has covered the land, and the storm is raging. The path I need to take. The cold is bitter, and the day is short and dark. The path I need to take. Wind, come, blow away the clouds, bring out the sun. Show me the path I need to take. The path that takes me home.”

&*&*

“I now understand why you said that she would have made an excellent Empress,” Grigori suddenly told Vasya when they were back in their room and he was seriously considering suggesting that Vasya pack the rest of their things after he left so they could kiss. Even though it wouldn’t be fair to him, how he wanted to kiss him. 

His husband nodded. “She even realized that Quhjan would be the first area affected in a war between Ustvela and us. His Majesty…” He shook his head as he picked up at a shirt from the bed. “Yours,” he said as he offered it to him.

“No, that’s for the kittens,” he said and Vasya put it back on the bed. “They must continue smelling me, so they won’t forget me.”

“I see.”

He took out his second summer uniform from the chest and threw the coat at Vasya. “And that’s for you, you big kitten.”

Vasya caught it in mid-air, looking embarrassed. 

What? Had Vasya thought that he wouldn’t have noticed that his husband had packed two of his shirts when he’d left for the West? Two of his unwashed shirts, for that matter. “Won’t you give me something?”

Vasya started unbuttoning his coat immediately. Moments later, he took off his shirt and threw it at Grigori. 

“Thanks,” he smiled as he caught it and sniffed it. How he loved the way his husband smelled, even though he couldn’t define it any better than sunshine and tea and heather. “Ah, Siuta,” he sighed happily. “I so hope Luck is with us and I can come back to you before your scent fades from this shirt.”

“I hope that too, Grishka.”

He smiled as Vasya rummaged in his bag for a new shirt. “She would have made a formidable Empress, but I doubt that she would ever think to establish an Altar to Luck just for us. Because who else but us will use it, and when again will it be used?”

“His Majesty is most considerate,” Vasya smiled a little. 

Grisha nodded as he raised the chain from under his chest and looked at the locket where Lady Irina had put the miniature portrait of his husband. “And she would never think of such a gift,” he whispered as he let it drop down again. 

Vasya nodded. “And you were so grateful for it that you complied to her wishes,” he grinned as he put on a new shirt. 

“What’s the harm in making her happy? She knows I’m yours, and I don’t mind showing her that.”

“She’s probably writing to Lady Olga right now. And making a copy of that drawing for her.”

“So what?” He smiled. “For a few moments, I felt like we were home. Although, we don’t have such cherry trees.” Vasya half-closed his eyes for a second, like he did when he was pleased. His husband knew something he didn’t and was trying to be sneaky about it? Should he call him on it? No, he’d rather pretend to be surprised when he returned home and found newly planted cherries in their orchard. 

He wondered if they would be from cuttings from His Majesty’s own trees. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were. His Majesty seemed to have that kind of generous heart. 

“Ah, which reminds me. Don’t be surprised that the garden will look a little different. I am trying to breed new roses.” 

“I will look after them.”

“Thank you.” He stopped and looked at Vasya, fully dressed again. 

“What is it?”

“The blue of the uniform brings out your eyes.” He could stare at them forever. He still hadn’t found a flower to match their colour. 

Vasya smiled with delight. “I much prefer the colour of your eyes. It’s so fresh and bright.” 

He took a step forward. “Fuck it,” he muttered. “We can finish packing later.”

“Captain?” One of Vasya’s Guards shouted as he knocked on their door. “His Majesty says, lunch is ready.”

He groaned as Vasya sighed for a moment. “We will be right there, Marco. Thank you.”

“Your babies have a gift for interrupting,” he grinned. 

“My what?”

“Your men, His Majesty included.” 

“He’s not,” he protested. 

Grigori shook his head. “Yes, he is. You already coddle and fuss over him the way you fuss over the rest of your Guards. Just accept it, and finish training him like you do when you get a new recruit that passes all your tests. I have.”

“Thank you.” Vasya smiled at him. “Ah, she would have been a great Empress, but I still prefer the dreamer over her.”

“And I can see why. He has a generous and caring heart, and I bet that right now, he’s probably worrying why we are not there yet, so he can stuff us with food.” He laughed. “What does he do with all that extra food that’s always prepared for his table?”

“Gives it to the poor.”

Grisha’s smile widened. “Hurrah!” 

&*&*

_My Dearest Sister,_

_Ah! The Majors!!!!!!!!!!_

_First of all, they are older than they look! They have been married since before we were born! Can you believe that? I couldn’t!_

_Fourteen years of marriage! And you know what’s the most astounding thing of them all? They still look at each other like newlyweds! Or, the way Oleg looks at Eli!_

_I thought my fingers would fall or catch fire, so many drawings I made of them today! I’ve made a couple of copies for you and I need to decide which one I will make for Eli – he really wants to have a painting made of them together, and I don’t blame him. They are just SO … JUST SO!! When they are together._

_(you know what the Major (V) did as I was drawing the original of the second drawing that I send you? He sang! To the Major! I wanted to sigh and swoon like a lady in a romance when I saw them and heard him and saw how the Major (G) looked at him…. )_

_They really are so devoted to each other!_

_Sister, this afternoon the Major (G) left to get a gift for the Major (V) and, before he left, they offered incense to Luck, as you do at Bosilke, and Eli made us all do the same. SISTER! To you, I will confess! I did give an offering so that the Major will come back to his husband soon, but also, I made an offering for us! May Luck bring us such husbands that will look at us the say way the Majors look at each other! That would be most wonderful!_

_Then, after the offerings, my brother gave a little speech, the Major (V) looked proud, and the Major (G)… OH, YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT HE DID, IN FRONT of my brother, and the Chancellor, and all the Guards! He grabbed his husband, pulled him to him with one arm (he really is THAT STRONG!), hugged him and KISSED HIM! ON THE MOUTH!!! And then he laughed and jumped on his horse, while V just stood there with exactly the same expression that Eli has when he thinks of His Majesty! The one that looks stupid on Eli – he looks like a sick cow when he does it! But on the Major! Ah, on the Major it looked BEAUTIFUL! And full of LOVE and AWE!_

_I made a drawing of it as soon as I came back to my room so you can see it too! See how he holds on to him, and presses him close even as he bends him backwards and kisses him? And I also drew the Major afterwards for you, so you can see how he looked breathless and stunned and awed and…. Ah, the Majors!!!!_

_Sister, I felt a strange heat in my belly as I watched them! It was so unsettling, but it also felt good._

_I know that by the time you receive this, the Major will be on his way back to his husband, but, Sister, do offer some incense to Luck for them. They are so… JUST SO!!! TOGETHER, that they deserve all the luck in the world!_

_Your ever-devoted Sister,_

_Irina_

_p.s. Eli says they will be leaving soon and I will be left with no inspiration for my drawings, but then, Sister, I had a thought! Remember that story you had made up about the Major and his husband? With your permission, I would like to draw it!!! Once everyone is away and I will have some peace, it will be possible! Let me know what you think, and if you have made up more stories about the Majors, I would LOVE to read them and, with your permission, draw them!_


	50. Chapter 50

_HAVE YOU THOUGHT OF A NAME FOR THIS PLACE????, 3rd of Fire Month,_

_My Most Precious Darling,_

_I am leaving today as I had written to you yesterday. I will probably write again when I am at the borders, so do not be alarmed by my silence._

_Your ever-loving Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

&*&*

_Jedlowa, 3rd of Fire Month,_

_My Heart,_

_G and the others left yesterday afternoon and… we will see what happens._

_After We established a small altar to Luck by the river, where all the sacrifices take place, and left instructions for the construction of a proper shrine, the Council has decided that it was time for me to start attending meetings again. They had left me in peace these last few days after you had left, but it seems that this period of grace is over._

_My Love, I cannot write anything else, since I must attend the first of today’s meetings in five minutes. If I have time, I will write later again._

_Your ever-devoted Husband,_

_Your Elik_

&*&*

_Jedlowa, 5th of Fire Month_

_My Love, My Heart, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you? Have you reached the front? How are things there? Let me know!_

_Apologies for not writing to you yesterday. I’ve had to attend one Council meeting after the other, and also make sure that everything was packed._

_Finally, everything is ready for our departure, so we are returning back to Ivanhof today. I think it will take us weeks to arrive, as we are quite the long train: there are all the carriages for myself, the Chancellor, Counts Lesnev and Rasoulin, the ones for my staff and for the Chancellor’s staff, and, of course, all the wagons for all the Guards’ in-laws, and the wagons for all our things._

_We will look more like a village on the move than an imperial procession, but We do not care._

_Your most loving Husband who misses you so, so much!_

_Your Elik_

&*&*

Mark frowned as he saw how far the line of carriages went, and groaned as he noticed the Guards helping their in-laws climb into wagons that were covered by large pieces of cloth. “We are taking a whole village back with us,” he muttered. 

“That was the idea,” Elik told him as he looked on with a pleased smile. 

“It looks so…” What was the right word to describe what he saw was becoming a long train of wagons carrying people and their goods out of Jedlowa? “Un-imperial,” he decided. “And they are taking everything with them. They don’t even have houses yet.”

“Whoever has a house, will put up a relative of someone who doesn’t. And, there is also space at the Barracks. Or so Vasily told me.”

“Vasily,” he huffed. Of course. The only person with a softer heart than Elik in all of Bosilke. 

“Chancellor, you have a whole wagon just for your personal items.” Elik smiled at him. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw that you brought your own washing tub, let alone the screen, and all your chests for things and clothes.”

“Of course. I couldn’t rely on…”

“Us having washing tubs at Jedlowa?” Elik smirked. “You may say it.”

“I feel happier using my own things. I’m not like Vasily, who is happy traveling with a bag or two.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Elik asked him a little defensively. 

The nerve, Mark thought; as if Elik hadn’t been sending people back to the Empire every two weeks during his trip. “Nothing, but being comfortable is important when you need peace of mind in order to work.”

“Ah, I see,” Elik nodded as if he agreed.

At that moment, Vasily stepped out of Soltukof’s house. He put down a big basket and saluted them before picking it up again. ““Hello,” he told them as he started walking towards them.

Mark sighed. “Not you too.”

“What about me?”

“You’re also taking things with you,” Mark said, nodding towards the basket.

“Oh, no.” He came next to Mark and lifted the cover. “It’s Grisha’s kittens,” he said and his voice dropped to a low whisper. “They are sleeping.”

Elik and he looked into the basket. They were sleeping in a row, each kitten hugging the one before it. Two of them were pure black, one was pure white, and one was mainly black, with white paws and white neck and face. “They are so cute,” he whispered with a smile. They were really cute; how would Ekaterina feel if they got some cats for their home? Her lapdogs were cute, but the kittens looked cuter. 

“They are sleeping on one of Grisha’s shirts so they will not forget his scent,” Vasily told them seriously. 

Both Elik and he nodded. Great, his cousin was losing it. Vasya had been trying so hard not to show that he was miserable that Grisha had left, but clearly, he had to try harder. He suspected that even the Guards had noticed, since they all seemed to stay as far away from Vasya as possible. 

“I’ll just put them in the carriage,” he said as he covered the basket again, “and go back to get our things. Apologies.”

“Please,” Elik told him. 

They watched him as he went into the fourth carriage after His Majesty’s, put the basket inside and hurried back to the Elder’s house. Elik turned to Mark. “Do you think he should ride with one of us?”

“Why? It’s not the first time that work keeps them apart.”

“Well, yes, but this is the first time he has to take care of kittens. Maybe he needs help?”

Mark snorted. The believability of their excuses dropped lower and lower the more they stayed at that place. “Well, I refuse to take care of kittens, and you ride with Oleg. What if Oleg scares them?”

“Oh, yes. But what if Oleg helps them get used to dogs? He’s such a good boy!” 

“Perhaps he wants to be alone,” Mark whispered as Vasily came out of the house, carrying two travel bags and followed by two servants, one with carried three more bags, and one with a big crate and a basket.

“Perhaps we can ask him?”

With a snort, Mark approached Vasily. “His Majesty wonders if you would like to ride with Him. I would volunteer, but I have no idea how to deal with kittens.” Even though they were adorably cute! 

“He’s so considerate,” Vasily smiled.

“Yes, he is,” Mark agreed. “But he will understand if you want to be alone.”

“Thank you. I do,” he sighed. “Grisha told me not to mope, but this is the first time in eighteen years that we are apart on this day and…” he frowned. “I know this was the right thing to do, but something bothers me.”

Mark tried to smile as sympathetically as he could. “You know that he can take care of himself, right?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “I’d rather be alone today, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. Vasya? If you change your mind…”

“Thank you,” told him firmly, ending the discussion. 

Mark nodded and turned to find Elik. “He wants to be alone,” he told him as soon as he was next to him.

“Is that wise?”

“He is an adult, Sire. He knows himself.”

Elik suddenly smiled brightly. “Oh, yes, that I can believe. I mean, he knows everything, so of course, he would know that too.”

Mark huffed with amusement. 

“Chancellor, could you maybe ride with Us until the first stop?” 

“Of course.” 

“Dima? Can you maybe ride with Count Rasoulin?” Elik asked the young man as he climbed into his carriage. 

“Your Majesty? I was thinking, what if I rode a horse and Oleg ran beside me?”

“What an excellent idea. Of course. Chancellor?”

Mark joined him in the carriage. “Sire?”

“I wanted to ask you a few things,” he said. “For example, I had never imagined that you would be in favour of reforms, especially those concerning the abolition of slavery. You are so keen on protocol,” he said with an embarrassed smile. 

“Following protocol is one thing, treating people as animals is another,” he told him seriously. He snorted. “Just as seeing titles, instead of people. That’s also wrong. Actually, it’s all Vasya’s fault,” he laughed. Of course, it had been. He snorted. “When he was disinherited, everyone in our family turned their backs on him, and I couldn’t understand it. Vasya was still the same Vasya.” Caring, loyal, protective, he hadn’t changed at all. In fact, being responsible for Grisha had made him even more loyal and protective than he had been before. “All that had changed was that he had no title or the family surname. I thought, that was really hypocritical.”

Elik nodded.

“Mark my words, Sire. When we are back, and he will be in Court not as the Captain of Your Guards, but a Count that you hold in your favour, people will start trying to ingratiate themselves with him.” He huffed, annoyed. Stupid idiots. 

Elik shook his head. “I am not sure if the courtiers will really care about making themselves pleasant to someone I hold in my favour.”

“That again? You don’t understand that it means that you are coming back as His Majesty’s Regent? I told you, You hold the place of His Majesty now; you are not the one sitting next to him anymore, and the one who has to keep the Ladies’ court busy and happy. For all intents and purposes, You are His Majesty now.”

Elik stared at him as if he didn't believe him. 

Perhaps he didn't. “Sire, did you do your homework today?”

Elik looked down, embarrassed. 

“Honestly, the moment Grisha is away, you think you can get away with it?” 

“I am His Majesty now, I can get away with it,” Elik told him with a playful smile. 

“Yes, but do you want to get away with it?”

Elik took out his notebook and started writing without another protest.

“Fifty times,” Mark smirked the moment Elik put his pencil down. “Not one.”

“But….”

Mark stared at him and Elik picked up his pencil and notebook again. 

“Mark?” Elik suddenly asked him timidly as he was writing. “Are Grigori and Vasily witches?”

“There are no witches, Sire,” he laughed. “What an idea!”

“But they know everything and…”

“They are very, very observant. In fact, if you became just a little more observant, you could also be called a witch. After all, in all the books, the witches are either old and ugly with grey hair, or young and pretty with red hair.”

“I am not a witch,” Elik huffed.

“Neither are Vasily and Grigori,” he laughed. “Really, what an idea. Have you told them that?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Maybe you should. They will find it amusing.” He looked out as the carriage started moving. He couldn’t wait to go back home, to running water! To his own bed! To Ekaterina! Oh, how he needed to talk to her! How he had missed her. 

“Oh.” Elik put his notebook down and started waving to the people gathered to see them off. “I will miss being home, but I am looking forward to going back.”

“Really?” He smiled, pleased. 

Elik glanced at his notebook. “I am a descendant of Great Dukes and Husband to His Majesty. I will not hide.” He smiled broadly. “See? I don’t need to write my homework fifty times in the morning to remind myself of my duty to myself and to others.”

“I see that now,” Mark agreed. “Any thoughts of how you will make others see you as a descendant of Great Dukes?”

“No, but…” Elik smiled very slowly, his eyes shining with mirth. “Maybe I should become a witch and cast a spell on them!”

“No, please, don’t,” he gasped, managing not to guffaw. “His Majesty will be very disappointed. As you rightfully pointed out, he does like to tell everyone how there are no witches.”

“Ah, yes. What if I wore my Quhjani robes of state? Or had new ones made?”

He shrugged. “Maybe? I fear you will be seen as odd rather than noble. The robes are great, but very old-fashioned. Hm… Do you have a crest?”

“Maybe?” He hit the back of his carriage and it slowly stopped. A mounted Guard approached. 

“Ah, Lev,” Elik smiled at him as he opened the door of his carriage. “Can you ask any of the Councilmen to look into the Archives for Us and see if We have a family crest? It is not something one would use here, but if there is one, it would be in the Archives somewhere. They can report to Us whenever they finish with their research. Thank you.”

Mark smiled at him. 

“I was thinking,” Elik continued as he reached for the folder with the Imperial Emblem and opened it. “His Most Wise and Good Majesty has entrusted me with Work, but we are at war. Some of the work that He has entrusted Us could perhaps be delayed.”

“Like?”

“The inquiry on the worth of theatres and the construction of buildings for performances.” He found a paper and put it at the end of the pile. “Perhaps we can assess together what can be done now, without diverting energy from the war effort?”

Mark nodded. Elik was smart, but he still lacked confidence. He made a decision as Elik picked up the first paper and started giving him a summary of its contents. From the following day, Vasya would need to ride with Elik. Or perhaps they could split their time even from that day; Vasya and he would change places riding with Elik at the next stop. He could teach Elik how they worked at court (the male one), and Vasya could teach him how to believe in himself. 

What a helpmate Nikolaj would have if they managed to fix all the damages they had caused. What a chance for their Empire to become better! 

&*&*

Irina watched as the last of the wagons finally was out of sight. She sighed. Eli was Eli, even when he was so busy that she had hardly seen him. Just having him in the house made the house feel different. It made her feel different. 

She glanced around and noticed that Katya was also outside her house. She approached her. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Katya smiled at her. She glanced back at the street from where Eli’s procession had left and let out a small sigh.

Irina stared at Katya. Did she also share her admiration of the Majors? “I will miss them,” she said softly. “Not just Eli, but the others too.” The Guards had always been very polite towards her, and they knew how to sing and dance as enthusiastically as if they were from Quhjan, but the Majors! Only the Chancellor she couldn’t decide if she would miss; he smirked far too much for her liking. Count Rasoulin she would definitely not miss; he was mean! 

Katya nodded. “Want to have some tea?” 

She smiled as she followed Katya into their house, and their kitchen. 

“Olga, can you make us some tea, please? Maybe we can have it at the garden?”

“Yes, please, thank you.”

Katya took a bowl, filled it with freshly-baked cookies and led her out into the garden. They sat under the shade of the cherry trees, put the bowl between them and Irina had one at Katya’s prompting. “Oh, this is lovely.”

“Thank you. We made them for Major Vasily so he could take some with him since he’d liked them so much,” she said with the tiniest of smiles. 

Oh, yes, Katya must have shared her enthusiasm for the Majors. She studied her. She had never paid too much attention to Katya, since Katya was younger than her, but maybe that could change? She would love having someone to whom she could talk about them. And other things! “They are nice, aren’t they? The Majors, not the cookies. Although the cookies are nice too.” 

Katya grinned. “Yes, very. When Father had said that the Majors would use our house as they pleased, and that we had to give them all the bedrooms, except for Father’s and Mother’s, I was so annoyed. I had to clean my room so that the Majors would use it as their bedroom, and I had to hide all my things and sleep downstairs,” she made a face. “I was really annoyed.”

Irina nodded. “I would have been annoyed too, if they had made me give up my room. Although, I wouldn’t have given up my room as easily.”

“What choice did I have? You have no one to tell you how to do things. At my house, when Father says something, it happens. Especially if it is ‘a matter of Quhjani pride to show hospitality to our conquerors,’” she said seriously.

“Yes, showing them how great we are is important. They have defeated us, but they have not broken us.”

Katya nodded. “Although, after meeting Major Grigori, I wonder if we can all be friends. That would be nicer, I think.” She bit into the cookie she had been holding. “Because, they are nice people. I really wanted to be annoyed and show Major Grigori that I was angry at the situation, but when Father introduced me to him, and told him that I was an advanced student of Ustvelan and Oerestandish, and that I would learn Valentinois from next year, he said that it would be his honour to practice them with me. Irina, he speaks both languages perfectly, and he helped me so much with my homework. He even explained all the things that my tutor couldn’t, all those ‘just learn it and stop asking questions’ things. Things are easier to learn when you learn the reasons behind them.”

Irina smiled, nodding. No wonder Major Vasily was so in love with him, if Major Grigori was so considerate! 

“It was very difficult to think of him as conqueror when he helped me with my homework. I think that by the second day, I thought of him as an extra tutor, and a guest. My parents too. And you know what else? When Major Grigori found out that he’d taken my room, he apologized to me and promised to keep it clean, and, Irina, really! I went in this morning and I swear, it was cleaner than when I had left it so they could use it.”

“Ah, he does look like such a capable man,” she sighed. 

“He is.” Katya blushed suddenly. “And he’s so handsome too,” she whispered. 

“And strong. Did you see his arms?”

Katya nodded with clear appreciation. “I know I shouldn’t have, since he is married, but…” her blush deepened and she sighed.

Irina sighed with her. 

“Hello,” Olga smiled at them as she approached them with a tray with the teapot and two cups. “What are you two girls chatting about?”

“Girl things,” Irina told her immediately.

“Ah,” she smiled as she put the tray down. “Girl things,” she nodded and winked at them. “I remember being a girl, and what I talked about with my friends. Men,” she giggled as she stood up. “Ah,” she smiled at them softly, “it is such a shame that all those fine men left this morning. They were as polite as if they had been born and raised here. You wouldn’t think they were Bosilik. And they took such good care of their families.”

Irina and Katya nodded. 

“And the Majors, right?” Irina whispered. 

Olga grinned. “Yes. Major Grigori helped our Young Lady with all her lessons for these last days. Even with his husband around, he still found some time for our Katya. And his husband! Never has a man asked me for my recipes before.”

Katya nodded. 

“I shall leave you to discuss your girl things,” Olga grinned. “Shout if you need anything.”

“Τhank you, Olga.”

Irina smiled. 

“I will miss him,” Katya whispered. “He was a better teacher than my tutor.”

“And his husband is so understanding.”

Katya blushed again. 

“What?” Irina asked her, grinning.

“The Major and his husband! They were holding hands all the time. Everywhere. Just like newlyweds!”

“You noticed too?” 

“Yes!”

They both sighed again. 

“After they came back from the wedding feast, you know what they did? I saw because they woke me up,” Katya said in a low whisper.

“What? What?”

“Grigori carried his husband up the stairs in his arms! And they kissed. On the mouth! Can you believe that?”

Irina nodded. “They are Bosilik, they do things differently there.”

Katya slid next to Irina and hugged her. “Don’t tell anyone,” she whispered in Irina’s ear, “It was strange to see a married couple kiss, but I liked what I saw.”

“I know, right?” Irina whispered excitedly. 

“Ah, the Majors,” they sighed together. 

&*&*

“I need to stretch my legs,” Mark told Elik as they stopped at the town of Yulin. “With your permission, I will not join you at lunch, as I do not know for how long I will need to walk.”

“We can wait for you,” Elik told him. “May We join you?”

Mark bit his lips. Ah, since Elik didn’t get his polite excuse, he’d have to be honest. “Sire, I need to talk to Vasya.”

“Oh, oh, I see,” Elik said with an embarrassed expression. “My apologies.”

He smiled. “I don’t know about Vasya, but I will need food. If we finish early, may we join you?”

Elik nodded, still looking awkward.

Mark got out of the carriage. He expected to see Vasya already out, but since he wasn’t with Count Rasoulin, he approached his carriage. With even greater surprise, he saw through the glass window of the door that Vasya was sleeping. He’d thrown his coat over his stomach and his legs, and had his head pillowed on a familiar red coat and four kittens sleeping in the space between his arm and his chest, one even nestled under his chin. 

Grinning, he knocked on the wooden, lower part of the carriage’s door. The kittens blinked, their ears twitched, but they stayed where they were. So did Vasya; only his eyeballs moved under his eyelids at the noise and his hand under his coat.

Feeling confident that he could enter without disturbing, he started opening the door. Vasya sat up and in his covered hand Mark saw the outline of a raised pistol that was lowered the moment Vasya saw him. His movement, though, startled the kittens far more than Mark’s knock. As they jumped up and started running in the small space, Mark shut the door fast so they wouldn’t escape. Grisha would never forgive them if they lost one of his precious kittens.

Laughing, he watched from the other side of the glass as Vasya put his pistol in his holster, and reached for one kitten after the other, while the kittens resisted capture bravely for a couple of minutes. When three of the kittens were in their basket and one had hidden somewhere, Vasya stepped out of the carriage, coat hanging from his arm. 

“That was cute,” Mark continued laughing. “Vasya.”

Vasya stared at him as he started putting on his coat. He was fully awake, Mark could tell.

“Hm, I need to remember not to startle you again, Cousin,” he grinned, wanting to make sure that Vasya knew to whom he was talking. Not that he would have disciplined him even if he were talking to him as the Chancellor. 

“Sorry, force of habit.”

He nodded. He knew it was standard practice among officers to sleep with a dagger under their pillow and their hand on their pistol. Sometimes, they even joked about the number of weapons they had in or under or around their beds. You’d think their bedrooms were armouries the way they talked. Military men! He didn’t get them. “And the kittens?”

“They are cute,” Vasya smiled. “Not as cute as puppies, but, oh well…”

He smiled. “Vasya, we need to talk,” he said as he started walking towards the opposite direction of the town, near some fields, and gestured for the Guards to stand back. 

“What about?”

“His Majesty. You know how he lacks in self-confidence.”

He nodded.

“I don’t know how he was before he came to the Capital, but I don’t think he was that diffident when he lived at Jedlowa.”

“I agree.”

He glanced behind. They weren’t being followed. “You need to help him regain his confidence again. I can’t do it.”

Vasya stared at him. “He needs you to mentor him. Not me.”

“I can’t tell him how to stop asking for permission for every little thing or teach him how to not sound needy, because when he does it, I want to laugh at how childish he sounds. No, he needs someone who will be understanding but firm.”

“Why not Lady Ekaterina?”

“Because she is there, and you are here. And because, you always were good with hurt creatures and children. She has even less patience for them than I do.” 

He stopped, still not knowing how to tell Vasya about that morning that had never happened and how Nikolaj hadn’t always been a good husband to his most precious, not supporting him, and ignoring his wishes. He had changed, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t hurt Elik in the past. Fuck, even six months ago, he’d been contemplating ending the equality between main partners just so he could curtail Elik’s power, something no Emperor had ever done, or turning him from a main into a secondary wife, something no man had ever done in the entire history of Bosilke. Well, his cousin was a clever man; he’d figure it out. 

“Damn it, Mark,” Vasya sighed. 

“Come on, you already made him have the whole ‘Is that what is wrong with you?’ experience.” That was bad enough for men who’d heard rumours of it. A discussion considered just as harrowing as Grisha’s habit of making his men stand under waterfalls. For Elik, who had no idea about it, it was even worse. “He’s still so unsettled by it that he thinks you’re a witch. You might as well finish what you started.”

Vasya snorted. “A what?” He chuckled. “Fine.”

“Thank you. If he asks you if you are a witch, please pretend to be surprised.”

“I will.” Vasya groaned. “I shouldn’t have accepted that promotion, shouldn’t I?”

“Too bad, now you have.” Mark turned around. “I promised him we would join him for lunch. And after that, you will ride with him.”

“But the kittens….”

Mark hugged him by the shoulders. “Don’t worry, I will look after them. They are cute!” He couldn’t wait to coax the fourth one out of its hiding place and play with all of them!

&*&*

_Jedlowa, 5th of Fire Month_

_Lord Lesnev,_

_(this sounds so boring and stuffy, like we are old nobles – but we are not, right? May I call you ‘Dear Count,’ or something like that from now on?)_

_I have thought greatly about what we had discussed and I think I have found a maid-of-honour for myself. Katya Soltukof, whom you know already._

_ONLY! She will not be called Maid-of-honour or Lady-in-waiting, as that is insulting to her. Katya and I are both Daughters of Elders, and we have the same position. No, Katya will be my Official Friend! And that will be her title. Or whatever a ‘Maid-of-honour’ is._

_I hope you approve of that, because I think Katya is perfect!_

_We even have the same tutor in Oerestandish, and so we have decided to take lessons together from now on! I am very excited about that! And so is Katya!_

_So, if you approve of her, then I will write to my brother to make her my Official Friend, and tell him not to send me any boring old noble ladies from the Capital to be my maids. I don’t want them._

_Looking forward to your reply,_

_Your…_

_I know I made you and your husband unhappy with my rudeness, but can I call you my friend and can you count me among your friends? I didn’t mean to be rude!_

_Here’s a drawing I made the other day, in the hopes that you will understand that I do not mean to be rude. I think you are both so inspiring!_

_Irina_

_p.s. if you call me ‘Lady Alexandrovna’ in your reply, I will be very cross with you! My name is Irina, and you may use it!_

&*&*

Elik frowned the moment Vasily approached him. “You will ride with me?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Why not the Chancellor?”

“He has to tend to some official business.”

“Hm.” Why hadn’t he told him about it? He stepped into his carriage and waited until Vasily was seated facing him. “Can we be Elik and Vasya now?” He didn’t want to be formal with his friends, especially when there was no one else around. 

“Of course.” Vasily smiled at him. He glanced at Oleg, who was lying by his feet. 

“Do you want to pet him?” 

“He’s half-asleep. I wouldn’t want to disturb him, but maybe later?”

“Of course. How are the kittens?”

Vasily grinned. “They are very lively. I was pleasantly surprised.” 

“I am glad to hear that.” Elik studied Vasily. He looked better than he had in the morning. Perhaps he could? Or maybe he shouldn’t…. Mark had thought him silly already but… 

“What do you want to ask me?”

“How do you do this?” he exclaimed. “How did you know I wanted to ask you something? Vasily, my friend, please, tell me the truth. You are a witch, aren’t you?”

Vasily’s eyes opened wider and wider, and he even stopped breathing for a moment. “Ah, Sire,” he finally sighed deeply. He didn’t look disappointed in him, but Elik couldn’t understand his expression. "Really. There are no witches.”

“Then, how?”

Vasily took another deep breath. His expression went blank. “When you want to ask a question, you do this,” he said as his mouth tightened just a little at the corners, he looked down, and a tiny frown appeared for a moment. 

“I do?”

Vasily nodded. 

Oh. This time, he felt himself frown in surprise. “Is that how you know everything?”

“No one among the living knows everything,” Vasily smiled at him. “But that is partly how I know things, by observing people and learning how they do things. For example, Sire….”

“Elik!”

“Of course, apologies. Elik, can you do me a favour? I want you to think something about Lady Irina. It can be either a memory or a lie. You choose what. When you have thought it, you must tell it to me.”

Elik frowned. A memory or a lie? “Well… Irina spent a lot of time drawing ducks last year.”

“A memory,” Vasily told him immediately.

“How?” Elik gasped. “Again. Irina hates strawberries.”

“A lie.” His reply came just as quickly as Elik had finished speaking. 

“How? No, no, again.” He thought for a few moments. “Irina… Irina… likes sewing.”

Vasily grinned. “A lie.”

“How? You do know this really seems like witchcraft?”

“It’s no witchcraft, it’s just observation. Almost everyone looks to the left when they remember, and to the right when they lie or make things up.”

“Really?”

Vasily nodded, smiling. 

“Can I try?”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Last year this day, I made Grisha a pie with blackberries.”

“Memory?”

“Indeed. Mark likes to tease those he likes.”

“Memory?”

Vasily nodded. “I had seen the sea before we went to Yastba.”

“Lie?”

“Yes. I had never left the Empire before.”

“And… can you also confuse people like that? Like, pretend you are remembering when you are lying?”

“Yes, but you need to train yourself to do it.”

“I see.” 

“It’s almost as valuable a skill as learning how not to show your emotions. That’s where playing cards comes useful. Where is your deck?”

Elik reached into a box by his feet, where he kept all the things that helped pass time during a trip. He took out a deck and gave it to Vasily.

“There are several things that make a good player into a great one. The first is knowing the rules of the game. Hundreds?”

Elik smiled. “Yes. I know that one. It’s where the goal is to gather a hundred points, right?”

Vasily nodded. “The second, is hiding your emotions,” he said as he started removing cards from the deck.

That was a skill useful at court as well. Clearly, he needed more practice at that.

“The third, understanding your emotions and not getting carried away either by a losing or a winning streak,” he continued as he started shuffling the remaining cards with ease. 

That would be really difficult for him, Elik thought. When his emotions rose, he was their prisoner.

“And the last one,” Vasily said as he spread the cards facing downwards on the seat.

Elik picked up one. “Ten.”

Vasily chose one too. “Seven. I’ll deal.” He shuffled the cards again and dealt twelve cards to Elik. “So, the last one, is the hardest. It is knowing yourself.” He put twelve cards aside for himself. “Knowing what makes you angry, and what makes you get carried away.”

Elik sighed. He felt like he’d hardly been himself ever since he’d come to Ivanhof, and he had to be what Nikolaj wanted him to be on top of being himself. “How can you know yourself?” 

“With difficulty,” Vasily smiled. “But we will get there. Let’s start by telling signs first. Like sighs.” 

Elik chuckled. “And looking left and right?”

“That too. Do you want to exchange cards or keep the ones you have?”

&*&*

Grigori let out a loud whistle. “We stop here,” he shouted when everyone turned towards him. 

The Ambassador frowned. “But here is in the middle of nowhere.”

His husband’s babies seemed just as confused. “I think there’s a village further ahead,” Maxim said. “Why stop here? Sir?” he added a second later. 

“Because,” he grinned, “Your Captain gave me permission to test you.”

Sila and Valery, who had once been his men-in-training, exchanged a worried look. 

He snapped his fingers. “Enough, you….” He stopped himself before swearing. It was a special day; he would not get annoyed at anything. “We stop and make camp here. If anyone of you wants to make a bed, feel free to make one. In your place, though, I’d find something for dinner first. For everyone.”

“Sir?” Carel asked him.

“His Excellency and I are at your hands,” he told them. “I expect you to set up camp and fix us dinner, Gentlemen. While the sun is still up.” Slow, very slow, he thought. 

The five of them approached one another, made a circle and talked among themselves. After a few minutes of discussion, they dismounted, Evgeni, Valery, and Carel headed off in three different directions, while Maxim and Sila stayed with them. 

“Sir?” Maxim told him, “We would like to water and take care of the horses first.”

“And then we will start clearing a spot for camping.”

Grigori smiled at them as he dismounted and gave him the reins of his horse. The Ambassador mimicked him. 

“Is this really necessary?” the Ambassador asked him as soon as they were alone. 

“Yes.” He looked around. “This is a good spot for stopping. Beautiful, healthy birch trees all around, a river to the left, and plenty of food around.” Ah, if they had been there in the spring, they could have had birch water too. What a shame, but birch trees were beautiful to him in every season. 

“A bed at an inn and already cooked food would have been better,” he muttered. “Or is it because we are in Ustvela?”

“No, it is because I am testing them.” And if he spent that night of all nights alone in the room of an inn, he’d become as sentimental as his husband. Grigori grinned. His kind, tender-hearted husband. How he missed him! “So far, they are doing averagely on responding quickly, and well on co-operation and division of labour. I’m curious to see what they will do in terms of speed in preparing for the night, and survival skills.”

The Ambassador raised an eyebrow. “So, you will not help them?”

“No.” He snorted. “Well, if they bring back mushrooms for dinner, of course I will check them. I wonder if they will catch us a nice river fish, and if they noticed the delicious blackberries near the edge of the woods.” He grinned. “Ah, fuck it, I love blackberries. If they bring back some, there’ll be more for all us. Your Excellency, shall we go pick berries?”

“Yes?” he answered, looking more surprised than dismayed. 

Grigori whistled loudly that he was off reconnoitering. Moments later, Sila whistled back that he understood. He started walking towards the area where he had spotted the berries.

“What was that?”

“Whistle messages. Quicker than speaking, or running back and forth.”

“Impressive.”

“Useful.”

“That too.”

“That only.”

The Ambassador grinned. 

He smiled as he touched the trunk of one of the birch trees as they walked. He liked them; tall, lean, and elegant, they always made him think of Vasya. Being away from him on that day made him a little sentimental. He hoped Vasya wouldn’t mope too much. In his place, he’d play with the kittens all day. “Ah, kitten,” he whispered. 

“Excuse me?”

“My playful kittens,” he said, knowing that without an article or an adjective to define their number, it would be impossible for the Ambassador to tell if he was talking of one or many kittens in Valentinois. Unlike other words, ‘kitten’ was pronounced the same in singular and plural although it was written with the final ‘s’ in its plural form. “I miss them. We hardly had enough time to bond.”

The Ambassador smiled. “I prefer dogs.”

“Yes, they have their uses, but cats are better.”

“We’ll agree to disagree on this. Tell me, have you decided where you will stay at Krzydzov?”

“No, not yet.” He did not want to impose in any of their contacts there, even though he knew they would be well-received; it would be safer if he just visited them. “I am certain we will find an inn or hotel once we are there.”

“You could stay at the Embassy, with me. It is Valentinois grounds.”

“Thank you, but….”

“Everyone knows that the Guards do everything together,” the Ambassador cut him off. “Besides, I will not be at Ustvela for too long. It won’t matter if people suspect me of working with you.”

“It will matter if people suspect Valentin to be working with Bosilke.”

The Ambassador made a face. “I don’t want Evgeni to stay at an inn,” he muttered.

“He won’t. The whole point is that this is his honeymoon, and we are the annoying relatives that don’t want to leave you alone.”

“If only all relatives were as annoying, or good-looking as you.”

Grigori frowned. 

“It was just a general statement,” the Ambassador laughed. “Really, why are all the Special Guards so handsome?”

“Because they were chosen based on looks.” He smiled. “At Bosilke, we do not have only same uniforms per regiment; each regiment also has a certain look. The Reds are all dark-haired. The Special Guards are all light-haired. The Greens have brown hair, and so on.” Ah, but his men? They were chosen on skills, not looks! 

“Oh, I am so looking forward to seeing a parade at the Capital,” he said, making a noise between a groan and a sigh. He chuckled. “I say such things and poor Evgeni thinks I want to cheat on him. I’m in love, but I’m not blind. How do I explain that to him?”

Grigori stared at him. Did the man think he was Siuta? He was the one who heard confessions, not him. “Just tell it to him, the way you just told me.”

“Yes, yes, that could work.”

What an idiot. Love made you blind! He hadn’t seen what another person looked like, nor thought another person beautiful since that first time he’d seen Vasya. 

Ah, his Vasya. 

He forced himself to focus on finding the berries. And there they were, several bushes growing wildly against a run-down, old stone fence. They looked juicer from there than when he’d first seen them, so he cut one and tried it. It was delicious, rich and sweet and just a bit tangy. 

Next to him, the Ambassador also cut one. “Oh,” he moaned with delight. 

“Fruits always taste better off the tree or bush,” he smiled.

“But how will we carry them back?”

Grigori snorted and shook his head. His Excellency was more than a spoiled nobleman; he probably never had played in the garden he must have owned. He pulled off some ivy vines from one of the pine trees near him and started weaving them into a basket. 

“You were not kidding about survival skills,” the Ambassador told him, looking impressed.

“That’s just basic skills, not survival skills,” he smiled. “Can you get me a few more?”

The Ambassador did. They were all on the small side but he could work with them. “Maybe a few longer ones as well?”

“Of course.”

As he weaved the vines and watched the Ambassador pluck one berry after the other, his thoughts started straying again. What a great pie Vasya would have made for them with all these. The previous year, he’d made them a pie with a puff pastry base, filled with custard mixed with whipped cream, blackberries in a thick syrup, almost as thick as jam, and toasted almonds and fresh blackberries on top. It was deliciously light and crunchy and fresh and no words could describe how tasty it was. 

Ah, he cooked to feed them, but Vasya cooked to please them. 

Who would have thought that the Young Lord of the Stanjinski House would prove such a talented cook? Definitely not him, when he’d first met him. 

He had been twelve, had no one in the world, was poor as a fucking shrine mouse, and glad that they always needed extra help in the Manor, when the Family came to spend their summer there. That year he had been assigned to stable duty because he was no longer a child to help out at the kitchens, and that day he’d been cleaning the stalls. All morning, that was all he’d been doing, cleaning, cleaning, and cleaning! The Family had many horses and they all had stalls that needed cleaning, because They arrived that day! But at last, he had finished scrubbing the floors and once they were dry, he could bring in fresh bedding for the horses. 

How happy he’d been that he had finished and could rest for a bit while the floor dried, when, as he stepped out of the stables, looking down and not paying attention to anything because he had been fucking tired, he fell onto someone. 

“Hey,” he’d grumbled loudly as he fell back, the bucket with the water he’d used for washing the floors falling down with him and getting him wet and even dirtier than he was. And he still hadn’t finished with all his work! 

He looked up, ready to curse at that careless person, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe, he felt sweaty and warm and cold at the same time, his voice refused to come out of his throat, and his mouth went dry. He’d never felt so strange before; he was scared and yet he wasn’t. The most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life (the only beautiful person he would ever see, only he didn’t know that then) was looking back at him, slim and tall and delicate, with hair as bright as the sunlight that fell behind him and covered him.

“Hey to you,” that person replied in a soft, stunned voice, before falling to his knees next to him. “How are you? You are not hurt, are you?” he continued, and this time Grigory could also see how blue his eyes were, soft and full of concern for him. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t careful.” 

He had shrugged, because what could he say to this person who looked the same age as him, but was beautiful and kind and too pampered to be called a man even at twelve? He wouldn’t apologize, that was certain, but he didn’t know how to accept apologies either at that time. No one had ever apologised to him before! 

The boy stood up and offered him his hand. “I’m sorry, I made you all dirty and wet,” he had told him, looking embarrassed and contrite. “You should go change before you catch a cold.”

He had laughed. Only rich boys thought of changing clothes so that they wouldn’t catch colds. 

And, instead of thinking him mad, that beautiful boy had smiled at him and gave him his hand. “Hello! I am Vasya. Pleased to meet you. My clothes should fit you. Come,” he’d said and Grigori hadn’t thought about work or cleaning or telling him off. He’d just followed him, not even remembering to tell him his name until they were in a room inside the fucking Manor. 

They’d stayed in that room for hours, just talking and talking and talking about everything and nothing. That was the first summer that Grigori had made a friend in the Stanjinski Estate. It took him one more summer to realise he had made more than a friend, and one more before his friend and more than friend became his Vasya.

Ah, his Vasya! 

By the time he had made four baskets and they had filled them with blackberries (oh, how greedy he was when it came to blackberries), he still hadn’t decided where they should stay, and he missed Vasya even more than he had an hour earlier. 

He sighed as he started on the way back to the camp.

“Is something the matter?” The Ambassador, who’d kept his mouth busy eating berries all that time, suddenly decided to use it for words.

It wasn’t like it was a big secret. They both took a day off on this day, and everyone knew better than to disturb them at their home. “It’s the anniversary of our first meeting today.”

The Ambassador smiled in understanding. “I met Evgeni on the 7th of Spring, so it will be five months since our first meeting in two days. I…” He blushed and looked at him with a determined expression. Suddenly Grigori understood what Evgeni had seen in that man. Under the polished exterior, the fashionable clothes, and the courtly manners, there was something fierce. “Evgeni said that you exchange rings at Bosilke, so I think that if we make it at Krzydzov early, I can buy them for us, and present them to him on the day.”

He nodded approvingly. “That is a very good plan. I am certain he will like it.”

“Do people celebrate the anniversary of their meeting at Bosilke?”

“No.” But for them, it was such an important date. If they hadn’t met, he’d probably still be cleaning stables and rubbing horses down, while Vasya would have been a Duke married to a Barianina Countess. Their meeting had destroyed their old lives and made them have a new one where they had become better than they were, and they were together. Of course, they had to celebrate it. 

The Ambassador kept looking at him expectantly. 

Ah, what would Siuta do? Talk of the power of love, no doubt. He smiled. “Vasya and I, we make our own rules.”

“Yet, you serve in the army. I can’t think of a more restrictive environment, where one must follow rules blindly.”

“That is true. We serve because we love our country,” and because they had had no other honourable option at the time they joined the army, but the Ambassador did not need to know that. “We obey the rules that help keep Bosilke safe. But, Your Excellency? If I were ordered to turn against Vasya, I would commit treason and die with him.”

The Ambassador smiled. “I see why Evgeni says that you are an example of marital fidelity. And I understand. I will resign if my Kind does not send me to Bosilke. And, if he forbids me to leave my post, I will defect.” He snorted, grinning and shaking his head, no doubt still unable to believe what he had decided. “I just hope Evgeni knows of a good hiding place.”

“If he doesn’t, Vasya will find one for you. He would do anything for two lovers, especially if they were on the run.”

“And you?”

“I would help him, of course!”

The Ambassador laughed loudly. “And I will be in your debt forever,” he said, making the most elaborate courtly bow he had ever seen anyone make.

“There will be no debt,” he laughed, “because Vasya and I would see it as our duty to help. Although, we are always keen on learning new recipes and would gladly receive the gift of them.”

“Deal. A hiding place for a new recipe.”

As they approached the camp, they heard the Guards singing loudly. 

“What are they saying? Ah, I need to learn Bosilik soon.”

He smirked. “That they are brave warriors that know how to hold their drink.”

“They sing a lot. I guess, once in a choir, always in a choir?”

“I guess so.” He smiled, pleased at the sight of the camp. 

Their horses were all tied on one side, and the Guards had cleared the area, made one fire pit, and Evgeni was blowing air into the leg of a hare, while the others were preparing two more hares for roasting, cutting them up to pieces. Hm, not bad at all. Camp ready before nightfall, food gathered before nightfall. They were doing well! Perhaps he would let them rest at an inn the next day. 

“What are you doing?” the Ambassador asked Evgeni, shocked. 

The Guards fell silent. Evgeni stopped and looked at his husband as if he were ashamed. “Skinning? Farm boy, Thomas,” he whispered, looking more awkward than a virgin visiting a brothel for the first time. The other Guards also stopped and turned tensely towards the Ambassador. 

Ah, fuck it! If that idiot did not make Evgeni feel better in a second, he’d call him an idiot in all the languages he knew and make him apologize to his husband, using force if necessary.

“That is quite the party trick,” the Ambassador grinned. “How do you do it?”

With a smile, Evgeni started explaining how he skinned animals, while the other Guards relaxed and continued with their tasks. 

These were not babies, he suddenly realized. This was a pack of young wolves, all ready to defend one of their own against any attacker. Even if that attacker was Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur and husband to one of them. 

He smiled, sat down and noticed the pile of mushrooms they had put over some leaves. Ah, how he liked mushrooms. He started checking them carefully, as Evgeni ended his explanation, and the Guards started singing again. 

By the time he’d finished, he was even more pleased to see that none was poisonous. They really were quite capable young men, even if they had missed the blackberries. It was a good thing the Ambassador and he had gathered some.

When they returned from their mission, he’d tell them that. And then he’d tell his husband that he’d done a good job raising his cubs. 

Even though, compared to his men, they were still babies! Baby wolves, but still, babies! His men were men! They were tigers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not be at the end of this batch of chapters. I had one more ready, but this morning, I woke up at 4 am (again), and since I couldn't go back to sleep, I ended up thinking of the timeline and the division of the chapters.... So, now the next chapter is split into 6 parts that all but one need a lot of Work! the first of them may be ready tomorrow, or not.....


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL - had to adjust the number of men in the fortresses once I changed them from redoubts...LOL

_6th of Fire Month,_

_My Heart,_

_How are you?_

_I am well, but I miss you so much!_

_We are on the move!_

_Mark is helping me prioritize Our Work. Some things are just not suitable for a time of war. So, no theatre until you come back victorious, but the education of Our people will not be neglected. We haven’t really examined everything yet – but We hope to have done so by the time We are back._

_My Love, My Husband, My Nikolaj, I miss you. So much!_

_We are leaving now, so I must stop so as to send you this._

_Yours as long as I have breath,_

_Your Elik_

&*&*

_6th of Fire Month,_

_My Darling,_

_I am fine, and I hope you are well._

_I arrived at the border with Oerestand yesterday, but was too busy reading reports to write to you! General Yakov has been busy at work all this time, and I am pleased to say that in the last months, he has constructed already three new fortresses to secure our borders, each manned by 200 men for now. He is currently building the fourth, where We are now._

_I believe that the fact that there have been no corresponding fortresses on the other side of the borders says a lot about the state of affairs at Oerestand. Either they accepted that the New Territory is ours, and we can build whatever we want, or they have been too busy with their own affairs. Not that the reason matters; what matters is that we should be able to at least keep what we have gained so far._

_Another thing that has pleased me is that we have started having Oerestand volunteers join Our army. We have let the rumour circulate that, regardless of what happens, we will give the New Territory the same rights of self-government and tax benefits as We had given Quhjan. This means also that, regardless of the outcome of our campaign, slavery at the N T will be abolished. We thought that land given to Our courtiers as gifts after Our victory last year should either remain in their hands, with their former Oerestand slaves either having the opportunity to work for them, and get paid for their work, or, should the courtiers desire to give the lands back to Oerestand, to give the former Oerestand slaves the opportunity to buy the land._

_What do you think?_

_How I wish I could discuss it with you and Mark. And, No, My Love, this is NOT an invitation for you to come find me. We can write about it, and if we have not reached a decision, we can discuss it when the campaign is over._

_Maybe also, when you are back at Ivanhof, you can start asking around discreetly, how they would feel about it? Maybe the key to ending slavery is getting the support of the nobles in the reforms, instead of forcing them upon them._

_I have nothing else to report, my Darling. Except that I miss you. So much._

_I must go check the work in the latest of our fortresses now, so I must stop here._

_Your ever-loving husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

&*&*

Elik smiled as he looked up at the clear, summer sky. Stopping to eat outside instead of inside a tavern was so wonderful. He really wanted to make the most of the lovely weather! 

He did feel, though, that he was not having as much fun as the Guards. The ones with their families especially seemed to be enjoying themselves so much. Every now and then, he would hear loud, riotous laughter coming from where they were seated further back. Loudest of all, Roman’s distinctive roar mingled with the high-pitched giggle of Granny Fenya, no doubt in response to some story Vanya was telling them. 

Instead of joking, they were quiet and dignified, mostly because Elik could not think of what to talk about, Mark and Vasily actually liked the food and preferred eating to making conversation, and Count Rasoulin knew better than to talk about work at lunch. 

“Is that the courier?” Mark suddenly said, nodding towards a rider that seemed to come towards them at full gallop.

“Probably.”

Elik felt his heart beat a little faster. Would he have a letter from His Majesty that day? His Husband had been quiet. He wasn’t worried – much! He knew Nikolaj was probably running as fast as he could, stopping nowhere and for nothing. But he was a little…. Well, he was worried! 

They all waited as the rider came closer and closer. Moments later, he brought his horse to a stop, jumped down, handed the reins to a Guard and hurried towards them. 

Elik stood up. “Greetings,” he said before the man could give him a deep bow. “Do you have any letters for Us?”

“I am sorry, Your Majesty. I do have an urgent dispatch for Count Lesnev, though.” He took off his gloves, reached inside his satchel to pick a sealed letter and bowed again as he waited for Vasily to wash his hands and wipe them before touching it. 

“Thank you. I hope you can enjoy the food while you rest. I can recommend the cold soup. You must have some.” He sat down as the courier went towards the tavern. 

“Well, from whom is it?” Mark asked Vasily who was staring at the letter as if it would bite him. 

“You look apprehensive.” Count Rasoulin dared say it! 

“Her Excellency.”

Irina? Why was she writing to Vasily? And she had to use an urgent dispatch to send her letter? 

“Well, open it,” Mark said. “We are all curious.”

“It might contain confidential information,” Vasily told them as he handled it carefully. 

Mark made a face. “As your commanding officer, I will demand a report, then.”

Elik grinned. He didn’t know if Mark’s intelligence office was something he’d inherited from his predecessor, or something he created because he loved gossip. “And as your Emperor-in-the-place-of-the-Emperor, I will veto that. If Irina has to share confidential information, then We will allow her that.”

Mark smirked but lowered his head, accepting it. 

“That said, We are also curious. Please, open it, Your Excellency. Does it contain information that can be divulged to the rest of us?”

Vasily opened it with a strange expression. He frowned as he read it, and smiled as he saw the second sheet. 

“Well?” he asked at the same time as Mark. 

“Well…” Vasily folded the letter carefully. “First of all, who will finally inform Lady Irina that she is a boring old noble?” he smiled at them.

Elik lowered his eyes. “I was supposed to, but I was busy…. Sorry.”

Count Rasoulin shook his head. “No, no. No.”

Mark shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I do not know Her Excellency well enough to be able to tell her that in a manner that will be pleasant to her.” He smiled at Vasily. “It has to be someone who knows her, and is in good terms with her.”

Vasily stared at them, his eyes comically wide. 

Mark smirked. “You will do it, Officer,” he told him authoritatively.

Elik nodded. “Since she wrote to you directly, it seems to me that you have her trust. I agree, you should do it,” he said, feeling a little like a traitor. But better Vasily having an argument with Irina about their nobility than him. 

Vasily looked at them like he wanted to say something, but then nodded. “As you wish, Sire.”

“Anything else we should know?” Mark asked smugly. 

“She has agreed to have a maid-of-honour,” Vasily told them, “and wants me to approve of her.”

Elik felt both his eyebrows go up. When had Irina ever asked for anyone’s approval? Oh, no! Oh, no, he couldn’t ask in front of everyone. He had to wait until after lunch, but then, he would ask! Or maybe not!

He smiled. At least now he knew how Vasily and Grigori knew whom Irina liked, and why he didn’t have to worry about it. And he was also certain that Vasily would have rejected her advances in the gentlest way possible; he was that kind!

He couldn’t really blame her, though. Vasily was a good man. It would be nice if she found someone like him to be her partner. He would approve of such a man even more whole-heartedly than he would approve any other partner she chose. 

“Finally,” Count Rasoulin muttered. “Having a gentle female companion will be good for her.”

“Well…” Vasily chuckled. “She wants her maid-of-honour to be called ‘Official Friend’ officially, by imperial decree, and… I really suspect that her friend will be like Lady Olga.”

“What’s wrong with Lady Olga?” Count Rasoulin asked. “She is a perfectly pleasant and well-mannered young lady.”

“Lady Olga is a frightening young lady,” Vasily told them seriously. “Her Excellency also noted that she and her Official Friend are both Daughters of Elders and have the same status.”

“Who is her Official Friend?” Elik asked. 

“Katya Soltukof.”

Elik froze. The Soltukofs had no sons, and effectively, Katya was in the same position as Irina, a Daughter of Elders who had to marry and produce a son to take the family seat at the Council, or adopt one, if she failed to give birth to sons. But Irina wanted her own seat…. “She wants to take over the Council of Elders,” he gasped.

“Excuse me?”

“Irina; she wants to have a seat at the Council, but I now think that what she wants is a total revolution! She wants Women Elders!” 

“Women Elders? That would be the same as Women Ministers!” Mark shouted, looking shocked. “Whoever heard of that?”

“Now you see why she is frightening?” Count Rasoulin hissed at Mark. “Forgive me, Sire, but she is.”

He nodded, realising that Vasily was the only one who looked contemplative rather than shocked. “What do you think, Vasily?”

“Unusual as it sounds, and unprecedented as it is, I think it would be….” He grinned widely. “Marvellous! Why not Women Elders? Aren’t women capable of doing everything that a man does? With the right education, women too could become Ministers and…”

Mark sighed deeply. “Your head’s in the clouds as always, Cousin,” he said, clearly too shocked to remember that Vasily was not his cousin at that moment. 

“I don’t care. Until we turn earth upside down and fix everything that is wrong down here, I’ll have my head up there,” he told them passionately, clearly also forgetting that he was not Cousin Vasya at that moment. 

Elik smiled at him. How he loved Cousin Vasya’s passion! Mark looked at him indulgently. Even Count Rasoulin smiled a little. 

“If Ekaterina ever heard that you want to make her a Minister, she would faint. Or slap you. Women Ministers,” Mark snorted. “Our Women know that they are equal to men, but do not need to do the same things as men.”

Elik thought about it. If women could act and go on stage, why not also be Elders? And Ministers too? Knowing the Ladies a little, he really doubted he would see Women Ministers at Bosilke in his lifetime, or even that of their successors, but maybe they could have Women Elders at Quhjan? 

“Indeed, that is the case at Bosilke,” he agreed, “But at Quhjan? Our Women do everything that men do.” He smiled. “So, why not Elders? You spoke of Educating them first. What would be good lessons for them in order to learn the Craftsmanship of State? Let us talk about that as we resume our travel after lunch.”

Vasily looked too shocked to reply. Mark grinned as he hit him on the back. “Great! You deal with that while I play…. Do official stuff! I wonder if they have anything for dessert.”

&*&*

“The Chancellor is in a better position to discuss Matters pertaining to State Craftsmanship compared to me,” Vasily said as he took his seat facing Elik.

“You think so? Hm, but he said he wants to do official stuff, so maybe I will ask him tomorrow morning.” 

Vasily sighed with relief. He was an army officer; what did he know of the Craftsmanship of State, or suitable courses for educating anyone in it? “Thank you.”

Elik suddenly smiled widely at him. “Vasily? Vasya?”

“Yes, Elik?”

“You did not hide your emotions at all during lunch,” he grinned. “Especially after you spent all afternoon yesterday trying to teach me how to hide mine, it was a little amusing.”

Vasily smiled. “Hiding one’s emotions all the time is exhausting. If one is among friends and his emotions will provide his friends with some amusement, then why not show them?”

“Ah, I see.” Elik looked outside for a moment. “I will have to hide my emotions at court then,” he said as he reached down for the deck of cards. 

“Why?”

“They are not my friends.”

“You don’t know that yet. True, you have enemies but, the most dangerous ones have been removed or are away from court. When you go back, you will be able to make a new start, as Regent to His Majesty and as yourself.” He smiled. “Ah, maybe we should talk about when to show emotions and when to hide them, and which ones to show and hide?” He took the deck. “Hundreds again?”

“Yes. Well?”

“Well, I don’t mind showing people how passionate I am about changes, because in the best case, they think I have my head in the clouds, and in the worst case, they think me mad. I don’t care what they think, though,” he laughed. “I do want changes and if I talk about them long enough, then maybe people will think twice about what they do, and want changes as well.”

“Isn’t that dangerous, though, or treason?” Elik asked him with worry.

“Why?”

“You want changes. When I first came at Ivanhof, and even later, His Majesty would say that I wanted a Council instead of a monarch. He would say it as a joke, but I don’t think he would treat it as a joke if I replied that I did want a Council.”

“Ah.” He put that information aside for later. As Grisha said, one shouldn’t confuse matters, and the matter at that moment was changes, not Nikolaj’s ‘joke’, nor Elik's perception of Nikolaj. “I want social changes, not political ones. One would need to twist my words a lot before accusing me of treason, and even so, I never write anything. On paper, I have no opinions whatsoever. Indeed, I have never said anything against His Majesty, have never expressed political views, and have never written anything about anything.”

Elik continued to stare at him.

“Besides,” he smiled, “if history teaches you anything, is that there is no perfect political system and that each form of government has its own advantages and disadvantages, and comes out of specific conditions that are unique to each land.”

Elik looked at him even more strangely. 

“What I am trying to say is, that at Bosilke we have autocracy for reasons that have to do with our unique history. Why want parliamentary monarchy like at Aedley when we are a different land, with different history? I’m happy with what we have, because what we have works for us.”

“You think it does?”

“I do not think politics. I leave that to courtiers and ministers.”

Elik grinned.

“Besides, you saw the West. The monarchies there were all constrained to some degree, others by parliament, others by laws limiting or defining the king’s powers, others by giving more power to the council of ministers. Yet, no country had slaves. So, one does not need to change form of government in order to change society.”

“But when His Majesty is Master of Everyone and Everything in the land, and everyone is His slave, then surely one must change the form of monarchy a little so as to abolish slavery.”

“A little,” Vasily smiled, nodding. “But one does not need to abolish monarchy. One would probably need to change His Majesty’s title a little, but that should suffice.”

Elik nodded. “So, you do think politics after all.”

“That’s your word against mine,” Vasily smiled. “And your word carries a lot of weight,” he told him seriously. “If you accused me of treason, even in jest, my word would count for nothing.”

“I would never,” Elik gasped. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to…”

Vasily studied Elik as he started looking worried. So many different matters. Why didn’t His Majesty know how much power he really had? Or…. He still didn’t understand his power? And why was he apologizing like that? Oh, so many matters to resolve! “Elik,” he cut him off before Elik apologized to him again. 

“Yes?” Elik whispered. 

“I know you would never do that,” he told him with conviction. “Not even in jest. I merely wanted to go back to something you had mentioned earlier, and our earlier discussion on emotions. That you have no friends at court, and how you must learn when to hide and when to show emotions.”

“Ah, yes, that’s what we were talking about earlier.”

“It is difficult to make friends at court when your word carries so much weight. So, you must show the courtiers that you honestly want to befriend them, and you are happy to be in their company. You must show them emotions that will put them at ease, and please them, and want them to become your friends and allies.” It was no different than making contacts with people and getting them to trust him with information. 

Elik frowned. “I would be happy if they just respected me.”

“I thought you wanted friends.”

“I do,” Elik sighed. “Oh, this is so confusing.”

“Why?”

Elik shrugged.

“What do you want?”

Elik looked outside. 

“Maybe I should start? I want…” he smiled. “I want people to realise that we are all the same. Some are luckier than others, but we all have the same needs and we all strive towards something. When you are poor, you struggle to get food and clothes and shelter. When you are rich, you struggle to make yourself pleasant and agreeable to those who are richer and more powerful than you, so they can help you and support you, or not turn against you. For both, their struggles are as important and exhausting. If we all understood that, then we could be kinder to each other, instead of suspicious or disdainful. And if we were kinder, then perhaps one day, we would have no poor people among us, just people who all have access to wealth and can all struggle to make themselves agreeable to those more powerful and richer than them,” he laughed.

“Your head is really in the clouds,” Elik smiled at him. 

He nodded. It really was. 

“What else do you want?”

“Grisha,” he replied immediately and happily. 

“That’s all?”

He nodded again. “What do you want?”

“Nikolaj,” Elik grinned. “Ah, how he pleases me,” he whispered with a smile. 

“What else?”

“Honestly? I want many things. I want freedom for everyone, and equality in front of the law, and education for everyone, but…. They are all huge tasks, especially when it comes to changing them across the Empire. You can talk of making everyone equal, but you are not in charge of the committee trying to come up with the law that will make that happen.”

Vasily smiled. So, His Majesty was aware of his duties, but not how to use his power for anything else? “That’s why I am so glad I am in the army. I am not a thinker. And that is why, as your Head of Security, I want to make sure you have a peaceful and safe environment where you can work and make that law a reality.”

“I see. We all have different tasks,” Elik smiled. 

“Indeed. What else do you want? For yourself, not the Empire.”

“I am not sure. According to what you were saying earlier, I have all my needs for food, shelter and clothes covered, and there’s no one more powerful than My Husband, His Majesty, whom I gladly want to please. So, objectively speaking, I have nothing to struggle for, so I have nothing to want.”

His Husband was not his equal? Fact or perception? He let that slide for later. Ah, in the name of the Honoured Ancestors he didn't have, how would he discuss His Majesty with his Majesty? “Is that why you struggle against yourself, then?”

Elik shivered. “What?” he gasped.

“You apologize, you don’t believe that the courtiers can become your friends, you seek approval. But I have been watching you, especially closely in the last five months or so. You are aware of your position and your duties, you are loyal and generous to your friends, and you are the most accomplished Consort of Imperial Rank in the history of Bosilke. So, what makes you pull back? What makes you doubt yourself?”

“I…” Elik continued to stare at him in shock. 

“Think about it and tell me tomorrow,” Vasily smiled at him. “With all this talk, we forgot to actually play. Still fine with Hundreds?”

Elik gave him a small nod. 

He focused on shuffling the cards. He had so much work ahead of him! 

&*&*

Finally, they were at Krzydzov! He’d thought they would arrive in the morning of the following day, but Thomas had insisted that if they rode a little faster, they could be there late at night, and his husband had been right. It was not late at night, though, it was early morning, but Evgeni suspected that Thomas had preferred riding into the night instead of sleeping on the ground. 

He smiled at Thomas. It hadn’t been that bad sleeping on the ground, when they had lain entwined, and Thomas’ breath warmed his neck. 

Thomas stopped in front of the back entrance of his palace, the one that led to the courtyard with the stables and the service areas of the building. “Have you decided if you will accept my offer?” Thomas asked the Major, who was riding just behind them. 

“What offer? Sir?” Maxim asked curiously. 

“His Excellency has kindly offered us his hospitality,” the Major said, “but perhaps it would be best if we did not disturb the newlyweds more than we will.” 

Evgeni looked at his friends. Sila was nodding off, and Carel was yawning. “Perhaps you should spend this night here at least, Sir. I didn’t see any open inns or hotels on our way here and our Ambassador’s house is at least a five-minute ride from here.”

“Please, Sir?” Sila told him. 

“We could sleep on the pavement,” Valery said.

“And get arrested for loitering?” Maxim asked them. 

“That is not going to happen,” Thomas said firmly as he dismounted and unlocked the door. “Your Excellency, it is late. It is better to be rude and awaken my servants than those of Count Srodina. Please. Tomorrow, you can find a hotel, if you want.”

“Please, Sir?” Valery asked him. 

They shared a look. 

The Major narrowed his eyes. “If you dare sing ‘please’, I will say ‘no’ to His Excellency’s kind offer.”

Evgeni stared at him. Of course, the Captain’s Husband would be as good as the Captain at ‘reading’ people, but he hadn’t expected that. They had only glanced at each other for a moment – not even a second. 

Maxim grinned. “Does this mean that you will say ‘yes’? And we can sleep on a bed?”

Valery and Sila glared at Maxim.

“Yes,” the Major snorted. “Your Excellency, thank you, we are more than grateful for your offer, and we would like to accept it.”

Thomas grinned. “It will be my pleasure.” He led his horse inside and did not look if they were following him. 

“Thank you,” Evgeni whispered to him as he jumped off his horse. 

Thomas turned to smile at him. “I know you would prefer being with you friends.” He handed him the reins. “Can you, please, lead him to the stables? I’m going to wake up someone to wash the horses and…”

“The men will do that,” the Major told him seriously as he dismounted and led his horse to a post with several tie rings. “Their horses, their responsibility.”

Valery and Sila looked like they had expected that. 

Evgeni just shrugged. “You can go, Thomas, I will find you later.” He smiled at him. “I remember the way.”

“Thanks. I will leave the door open for you.”

Evgeni watched as Thomas went to the house.

“He just left you to deal with his horse,” Maxim snorted. 

“And he didn’t have to leave the door open,” Valery said, sounding a little disappointed. 

“Gentlemen,” the Major snapped. Evgeni turned to look at him, and realized his horse was already secure, and that he was already in the process of removing his horse’s tack. “The less you talk, the faster you will finish.”

Evgeni smiled. He winked at the others. “But can we sing?”

“Your choice, happy husband,” Maxim laughed, before the Major could reply.

“At the threshing floor, at the threshing floor,” he started as he tied his horse.

The Major frowned. 

“Where the girls dance, and the men watch them,” the others sang, following him. 

Evgeni looked at the Major. 

With a huff, he nodded. “The fair maiden moves like in a dream,” he continued, making them all look at him. He was not bad for an amateur! No, quite the opposite. He definitely had a better voice than Thomas. 

“Her beloved is away, her beloved does not watch her,” they all sang, grinning. 

By the time they had finished washing their horses and cleaning the tacks, his brothers and the Major helping him with Thomas’ horse, they had all chosen one song and Evgeni two, and he could bet that even the Major was looking forward to lying on a bed. 

“Evgeni?” the Major asked him quietly as they headed back, “can you direct me to the kitchen? I would like to make a herbal infusion before going to bed.”

Evgeni nodded. “Does anyone else want something?”

Sila gave him an annoyed look as he checked his watch. “It’s already four. The sun will rise in an hour. With all due respect, I am going to bed. Sir.” He saluted the Major and stared at Evgeni. “I don’t know the way.”

The Major grinned. “Take them to their beds. Tuck them in, while you’re at it,” he smirked. “I will find the kitchen. Thank you. Good night, Gentlemen. You all have the morning off tomorrow, so get some rest.”

“Hurrah,” they shouted as Evgeni took them up the stairs to the third floor. 

“There are five guest bedrooms here. Can you manage? I’ll go check on the Major,” he said as he turned his back on them. 

Maxim laughed. “Look at him. Lord of the Manor.”

Evgeni blushed.

“Don’t be an ass,” Valery told him, and the sound that followed made clear that he’d hit Maxim somewhere. 

“Well done, man!” Sila shouted, grinning.

“Yeah….” Carel’s ‘yes’ had started as a word and ended as a very loud yawn. 

“I’m proud of you, Brother!” Maxim called out. 

“It’s fucking four in the fucking morning,” the Major shouted at them from the bottom of the stairwell, his voice louder than anyone’s. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Ah, fuck,” he heard Sila and Carel groan. “You woke the Beast.” The sounds that followed indicated that they too were hitting Maxim.

He grinned. Ah, his brothers were crazy in the best way possible!

The Major smiled at him as if he hadn’t been swearing at them moments earlier. “You didn’t have to come for me, Evgeni. I would have found my way.” He glanced up. “Impossible not to,” he snorted. He turned and went straight for the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” He looked as the Major treated the Palace’s kitchen as if it were his own, moving around with an ease that Evgeni didn’t feel, even though he’d been there before, and Thomas was his husband. Ah, Thomas was his husband. He shivered with delight, wondering if Thomas would be waiting for him in his bed. 

“You should go get some rest, then. Your husband will be waiting for you,” he told him.

He felt his cheeks grow warm.

He noticed the Major studying him with a strange expression. How happy he was, but the Majors must have been miserable. They hadn’t even spent their anniversary together. He felt a little ashamed for his happiness. 

“Go, man, what are you waiting for?” the Major grinned. “I’ll have my drink, and go to sleep. No need for you to stick around. Go, before I order you.”

“I think the Captain would be happier if you stayed here with us, on Valentinois ground,” Evgeni told him quietly.

“How would you know what the Captain would want?” The Major smirked. 

“Because….” Evgeni frowned. Honesty builds trust, and trust brings co-operation, isn’t that what the Captain said? “I think he asked me to look out for you.”

The Major huffed, but his expression softened a little a moment later. “That I can believe. Then, tomorrow morning, I will let His Excellency know that I accept his offer to stay here for the duration of our trip.” He snorted. “Go, Private.”

Evgeni saluted him and turned away as he heard the Major mutter something about wolf packs. Strange, but it was not his place to judge or even try and figure out what he meant. 

He walked up and went straight for Thomas’ bedroom on the second floor. As promised, the door was unlocked. He opened it and smiled. 

“Took you long enough,” Thomas grinned at him from where he was lying naked on the bed, slowly caressing himself. “I’m ready for you.”

“And I’m ready for a bath,” he grinned as he turned towards the dresser with the washing jug and basin. 

“Evgeni!” Thomas shouted in protest. Evgeni heard him get up and hurry after him. “You will have a bath without me?”

He laughed as he turned, hugged Thomas and kissed him, his mouth opening for him immediately. Ah, how pleased he was with his husband!


	52. Chapter 52

Vasily put down the basket with the kittens on the floor by his seat, and checked the interior of the carriage. Their water bowl had been filled, he’d put some leftover meat that he’d chopped into tiny bits in their food bowl, and the dirt in their litter box had been changed. He probably needed to change it whenever they stopped for lunch as well. Grisha had said it should not need changing often, just once every two or three days if he removed the cat poop daily, but Grisha had not been riding in a closed carriage with four kittens using one litter box. The smell was almost as bad as that of a wet dog. 

He stepped out to get a little more fresh air before they left as he wondered how they could have carriages with windows that opened. Although, even if he did have one such marvellous carriage, he’d probably need to keep the windows closed lest the kittens escaped. Still, how could they have them? 

If Grisha were there, he’d figure out how. He was so clever and capable! 

An open summer carriage was not suitable for long distance travel, but he’d seen carriages in the West that had leather or fabric flaps on one side that could be rolled up to let passengers in and out, and rolled down again. That kind of opening would probably provide better ventilation for a closed carriage in the summer, but it would not look majestic enough for any carriage in His Majesty’s train. 

Hm… He had seen sliding windows at some of the newer gambling dens at Aedley, so perhaps a similar window could be made for the carriage doors? How were the carriage doors constructed exactly? 

He looked as His Majesty stepped into his carriage and Mark started walking briskly towards his. Ah, time to start moving again, and go back to work. He stretched his arms, getting ready to go back inside his closed carriage. He really needed to figure out how to fix the window problem, and make the carriage safe for the kittens, but also for him. 

Mark, though, passed his carriage, walked past Count Rasoulin’s, and stopped in front of him. 

“Chancellor? I thought you would come here for official business after lunch,” Vasily told him, grinning. 

Mark glanced inside his carriage. “Yes, I will be here after lunch as well, but I was curious. What homework did you give His Majesty?”

“Ah, that? I asked him to think about what makes him doubt himself.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. 

He nodded. “Now, if you excuse me, I have official business to attend,” he said as he climbed in his carriage. 

Mark grinned. “Of course, Your Excellency,” he said as he closed the door for him. 

Vasily sat down and lifted the cover slightly. Ah, still sleeping.

Mark suddenly knocked on the window to get his attention. 

He looked up.

“See you later,” Mark said with the same wide smile and waved at him. 

He nodded, smiling, and wondering when His Majesty would realise that ‘official business’ had become the code words for playing with kittens. 

But he could get some business done while they slept. He opened his portable writing table, put his writing implements on the side and took out Her Excellency’s letter. He could not delay replying to her. 

_7th of Fire Month,_

_Dear Lady,_

_I was honoured to receive your letter of the 5th of this month, and I hope this finds you well and in good spirits._

_I was really happy to read that you have decided to have an Official Friend. Both Grigori and I found Lady Katya to be an exceptional young lady full of good qualities, and I am certain that she will be an excellent Official Friend to Your Excellency._

Should he write to her that he hoped that Katya would not be like Lady Olga? That he still felt awkward that she thought that his husband and he were inspiring, and was not very happy to see that she was drawing them? As for the thought that she could be discussing his love life with his husband with her friend? That made him truly uncomfortable. 

But he had to admit, that was a good drawing of them. They were both sitting down, holding hands and staring at each other’s eyes, as they had been when she had painted their miniature portraits. Ah, what a day that had been! 

Grisha would tell him, ‘what’s the harm in letting her use us as inspiration? And what if she speculates which one of us is in which position? Mark wonders about who fucks whom and how all the time and you don’t care.’ Grisha would be so right.

But Her Excellency! She was an unmarried young lady! 

At that point, Grisha would tell him that they had been almost her age when they had stopped being just friends and more than friends. ‘We let Love guide us’, he’d tell him with a smile, and he’d be even more right. They had been only slightly older than her when they had shared their first kisses and caresses! Ah, those first kisses! And how their frantic sweetness had become the mellow hunger of their later years! 

He had refused being a hypocrite years ago, he wouldn’t start being one now. How could he tell Her Excellency that what she did was wrong, when he had been doing much more than speculating about how people made love at her age? So what if it made him a little uncomfortable? If he didn’t mind Mark, he shouldn’t mind Her Excellency. 

He suddenly grinned. He didn’t even mind Maxim when he over-shared, and some of the things that man had shared, they had made him blush! Yes, he would write nothing about this matter to Her Excellency. 

_Please, send her my warmest regards!_

_Your Excellency, I also have some news for you, and I do hope it will not upset you too greatly. As we were looking into a matter of great importance (more of that later), we discovered that you and the other Elders are, in fact, the oldest of nobles in the whole of the Empire. You had nobles at Quhjan even before Rurik established the Kingdom of Bosilke and awarded the first titles to his men._

_I know this news will be upsetting, but I do hope you will recover from the shock soon because… Your Excellency, I need your help!_

_Even though the Bosilik court is fairly new by Quhjani standards and the title of Duke was introduced as a special sign of Imperial favour only during the reign of Our Second Emperor, His Most Wise Majesty Vladimir I, to distinguish and honour men who’d fought with exceptional valour from all the other Counts, our Bosilik court is full of nobles who are so full of themselves and proud of having received their titles in the days of Vladimir I, Mikhail I, or Ivan II, they have forgotten that (a) they should treat all people with respect, (b) they should see people rather than titles, and (c) they should judge people based on their merit and actions, and not their titles (if they must judge at all)._

_Your Excellency, what I am trying to say is that our Court has many of the worst kind of boring old nobles that refuse to accept how Great His Majesty is, and how hard he works to make Our Empire better, only because he does not have a title. They cannot appreciate how this is the first Consort of Imperial Rank that we have that speaks so many languages and is as comfortable in an army hospital, a market square, or the palace._

_Unfortunately, since the Court is so full of them, one cannot simply accuse them of offending the dignity of His Majesty, since that could have dire consequences. Therefore, it is a matter of grave importance that we make these foolish (because they are stupid, they are not just boring) old nobles accept His Majesty, and make them realise how Great he is in a manner they understand._

_(yes, you may swear with me: they are STUPID!)_

_Your Excellency, if you have anything in your Estate that can be prove that you and His Majesty are old nobles, that would help tremendously all of us who want nothing more than to protect His Majesty and see him succeed in his duties. Do you have any family heirlooms that can prove that Malk the Ever Fierce was a Great Duke, as that is his true title? Perhaps a piece of armour? A ring with a crest? A diadem? Anything! Please, Your Excellency, can you search for such an item in your house and your storage rooms and anywhere else you may think?_

_His Majesty also said that the Alexeyev Family is also descended from Malk the Ever Fierce. Could they have something?_

_Leaving this matter aside, I was delighted to_

He sighed. Delighted was not the right word, but… Lady Irina should do as her nature bid her, the way all young people followed their nature. 

_receive your drawing. I am humbled that you think that Grisha and I are so inspiring; we are nothing but army officers trying to do our duty to His Majesty, nothing more. I thank you, and I also thank you on his behalf; I am certain that when_

He stopped again. Why was this uneasy feeling not leaving him? Grisha was more than capable of taking care of himself. He had been doing that since he was five, and back then, he didn’t have anyone to support him. This time, he had five of the Guards, who were all very capable. 

Why was he so worried? 

Perhaps he missed him more than he realised. 

_he is back, he will also thank you personally._

_Thank you!_

_Your humble servant,_

_V. Lesnev_

_p.s. it is not proper for me, a married man, to call a Young Lady by her name, but you may address me however you desire. I am His Majesty’s servant, and Your Excellency is His Sister - you outrank me_

He sighed again. Honestly, didn’t she have a tutor instructing her on court etiquette? Why was he doing all these things? That was not his job, was it? 

What was his job exactly? 

One of the kittens mewed loudly from the floor. He looked down and he saw that the black one was out of the basket and trying to climb on his boot. 

He picked it up and put it in his coat pocket. “You stay there, Little One. When Grisha is back, we will name you all,” he smiled. When Grisha was back.

He sighed again. 

&*

Thomas felt a slight chill and smelled coffee. He grabbed the edge of his covers. “Zhenya,” he mumbled as he tried to pull the covers to him. 

“Wrong,” a voice that was definitely not Evgeni’s answered him. 

He sat up, opening his eyes wide. “Major? Evgeni? Where?” 

The Major was in full dress uniform and he was holding a tray with a pot and two cups in his hands. He looked down at him. “I sent Evgeni on an errant.” He took a deep breath and stared at him with disapproval. “I thought you wanted to surprise your husband with a pair of wedding rings,” he continued as he gave him the tray and took the cup that was half-full. “Yet, it is already eleven and you are still in bed.” 

He poured some coffee in the other cup and took a sip. It was stronger than what Jean made, but at a perfect temperature for drinking. The Major must have made it himself. “I went to bed at five.”

“So did I. This is not excuse,” the Major said before drinking. 

“Perhaps for you,” he grumbled. “I need my sleep.”

The Major continued drinking, his expression growing sterner. A moment later, he leaned down to put the empty cup on the tray. He stood to his full height, and glared at him. “Your Excellency. Do you want to please your husband, or not?”

“Of course, I do.”

He snapped his fingers. “Then, you will finish your coffee, get up, get dressed and go buy a pair of wedding rings. Now,” he shouted at him. 

Something like a mouse’s squeak came out of his throat. Thomas did not know that he could sound like that. 

The Major huffed and muttered something in Bosilik that was probably, almost certainly, definitely a swear word. He turned around and headed to the door. There, he turned to face him again. “Your Excellency,” he told him seriously. “The men and I are very grateful for your hospitality. It is only for this that I sent Evgeni on an errant, to give you time to surprise him, and even now you are dithering. I am very disappointed in you.”

Thomas felt himself burn with shame. 

“I will be honest with you,” he continued. “The other night, you made him feel uncomfortable, and yesterday you treated him like a servant. You had better not do that again. He deserves better. And if you hurt him, I will find out, I will find you, and I will break your legs,” the Major told him with a menacing expression. This was not an idle threat; no, this was exactly like the threat the other Major had issued to every one who’d been invited to their legendary parties. You break The Rule, I break a limb.

But he had nothing to fear. He stood up, not caring that he was naked. “I will apologize to him,” he said fiercely. He had been tired on both occasions. Evgeni would understand. “And I will never hurt him.” 

“Good. Now, get dressed.”

“Yes, yes. Wait a moment,” he said as the Major started opening the door. “Is there any type of ring that I should get?” He glanced at the Major’s hand for a second. 

“No,” the Major said. “Their Majesties wear plain, golden bands, so even the plainest of rings will do.”

“But yours is not plain,” he said. After Evgeni had mentioned it, he had had several opportunities to study it, and it truly was a noble ring, with an ancient cameo. 

The Major closed the door and smiled so sweetly that Thomas felt like he was intruding on something – only he didn’t know what. “It’s my Husband’s,” he whispered. “It was tradition in his family for the eldest son and heir to give this ring to his wife, but he gave it to me.”

Thomas frowned. Marriages between men were allowed at Bosilke; why was it so important that the Major had given his ring to a man instead of a woman? 

“He was not supposed to marry either a man, or me,” the Major smiled widely, “But he did,” he said as if it were a miracle and a triumph at the same time.

Thomas shivered. No wonder the Major had such high expectations of him, if he and his husband shared such a bond. 

“If you have such a family heirloom, then you can use it as your wedding ring to him. It will not be rejected,” he grinned.

An heirloom? All his things that he really cared about were at Valentin. “And… may I ask what you gave your husband in return for his ring?” Which really was a priceless heirloom and a beautiful antique. 

“Ah, I gave him something I made for him with all my heart.” He laughed as if he was telling a joke, but then his expression softened. “I gave him a ring made of three types of wood: apple tree, birch, and oak. When he outgrew it, I made him another.”

No wonder Evgeni had thought the Major’s hand-made ring was even more wonderful than the Major’s ring with the cameo. How could he find something as perfect at showing his commitment to Evgeni? A store-bought ring wouldn’t do that. 

“Less talking, more getting dressed, Your Excellency,” the Major told him with a smile. “Evgeni will be back soon. If he finds you here, he will follow you, and then you will have no chance of surprising him. I will see you later.”

Thomas nodded. “Till later. And thank you for waking me up,” he shouted as the Major started leaving his room for the second time, opening the door again. 

“Thank me by making that man happy,” the Major told him seriously as he stepped out of the room. “He is a good man, Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur. I will break your legs if you hurt him.” He stared at him. “And you will be glad for that, because Vasya will have your balls if you make that man unhappy.” He smiled at him pleasantly. “Till later, Your Excellency.” He closed the door softly behind him. 

Thomas sat down on the bed. Fuck; had any man ever have such frightening in-laws? 

Also? Bosilik men were pushy. He had thought Evgeni was forceful and bossing him around, but clearly, compared to men like the Chancellor or the Major, Evgeni was still an apprentice learning the art of domineering. 

He grinned as he sat up. Ah, a wise man would run away, so why was he running towards his locked desk, to find the box where he kept all his important documents? He was certain he had his father’s ring there. That he had brought with him, hadn’t he? 

&*&*

Mark bowed slightly to His Majesty. “I am afraid I must attend to some official business. I will see you later.”

“Chancellor? May I have a word?” Vasily followed him as Elik nodded and stepped into his carriage.

“Of course,” Mark grinned as he headed towards Vasily’s carriage. 

“How can you not mind the smell from the litter box? To me, it was intolerable after a few hours.”

Mark grinned. “Vasya, I live with all of Ekaterina’s dogs. Who sleep in her bed, on the sofas, on the chairs, on the tables. You name it, you will find a dog. Believe me, after a while you get used to all sorts of smells.”

“Hm.”

“It’s because you haven’t had pets in years, and when you had dogs, they lived in kennels, not in the house. You’ll see, you will get used to it.”

“Hm,” he repeated, seriously doubting it. 

“You will get used to it,” Mark said as he looked inside Vasily’s carriage. “Oh, they are out of their basket.” He looked at Vasily, clearly expecting him to solve the problem of getting in without the kittens getting out. 

“Just be quick about going in, and I’ll look out as well. If any escapes, I’ll catch it. Also?” He reached inside his pocket and took out the bun with the leftover meat he’d wrapped in his handkerchief earlier. “Hold this. The smell should distract them. At least, that’s what happened last night.” 

“What is it?”

“Meat in a bun. When they get hungry after playing, in a couple of hours, you can give them the meat, but not the bread. Grisha said they shouldn’t eat bread.”

Mark nodded as he took it. “Of course. Vasya, do you ever wonder how he knows so much about cats? Do you think he’s been keeping a secret colony of cats somewhere behind your house?”

Vasily laughed. “No, he doesn’t. He keeps it inside the Regiment stables.” As Grisha always told him, “But that doesn’t count. They are the Regiment’s cats, not his.” He chuckled, thinking of how Grisha at first had tried to hide the fact that he was taking care of them from him. 

“What?”

“They are all red tabbies.”

Mark froze for a moment before he started shaking with laughter. “When I am back, I will make them the Official Friends of the Reds,” he panted, and then resumed laughing. 

“That is a great idea, Chancellor,” Vasily grinned. “Or maybe not?” If His Majesty ever found out, or worse, Lady Irina… He didn’t want to think about that. 

“Ah,” Mark groaned, “Maybe not. You should go keep His Majesty company. I will see you later.”

“Later.” He waited until Mark opened the door and stepped inside quickly, but none of the kittens were interested in freedom when they could smell meat. Smiling, he turned around and saw that Elik was out of his carriage, waiting for him. “Sire,” he bowed when he approached him. 

He nodded. “Why is the Chancellor doing his official business in your carriage?”

Vasily looked at him patiently. “What’s in the carriage?”

Elik’s eyes widened. “The kittens! He likes kittens!”

Vasily nodded. 

“I also like kittens,” Elik told him, grinning. “Maybe I can ride with the Chancellor, so we can do…”

“Official stuff,” Vasily smiled. 

“And you can ride with Oleg? I haven’t brushed him yet.”

“Sire?”

“I will be honest, Vasily, Vasya. I have not finished with my homework. I still don’t know what makes me doubt myself. Is it guilt that I live while all my old friends are dead?”

“No, that is what made you,” he lowered his voice, “not valuing your life. But you understand now that it was a wrong belief, right?”

Elik nodded. “I still feel it,” he said even more quietly than Vasily, “but now that I recognize it, I can fight it.”

“Good.”

“But I still don’t know why I doubt myself.”

Vasily had begun having some ideas, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk about them yet. “Maybe you should do official business with Mark. But not in my carriage. That is not proper. I will call him to join you.”

“And the kittens?”

“Of course, Sire,” he smiled.

“Then, wait, wait.” Elik snapped his fingers and Oleg walked down the steps of the carriage. “Good boy,” Elik praised him as he offered him a treat. “Eat, Oleg. Oleg’s brush is on the seat, can you get it? I’ll go get the Chancellor. And the kittens.” He walked away as fast as he could. 

Hm, was His Majesty a cat person after all?


	53. Chapter 53

“The Guards are very lively today,” Mark grinned as the Guards had not stopped singing for the last hour. 

“I think they are learning new songs,” Elik smiled. “These were not in our usual repertory these months.”

“I see.”

One of the Guards came closer to them and signalled for permission to stop. 

Mark nodded and their carriage started slowing down. 

“Why are we stopping?”

“There are several reasons why. Could be security, could be an urgent courier, c…”

“A courier?” Elik gasped. “Oh, that would be nice.” He sighed a little. “His Majesty has not written to me in days.”

“He’s probably busy.”

“I know.” Their carriage came to a halt and Elik made to open the door. 

“Protocol,” Mark told him sternly. “First we find out what is the matter from the Guards and then you may open the door.”

Elik made a face. 

Moments later, the same Guard opened the door. “A courier with an urgent dispatch from His Imperial Majesty, Your Majesty,” he said as he saluted Elik. 

This time, Mark did not stop him as he slid out impatiently and greeted the courier. He smiled as Elik was full of graciousness towards the man, while he was probably burning with desire to read what His Majesty had written to him. 

Elik came back with a wide grin. “He wrote to me,” he said as he sat down. “He also wrote to you,” he said as he handed Mark a sealed letter. 

“May I?” he asked as he pointed at the door. 

“Oh, yes, yes, please,” Elik said, not paying any attention to him. 

Mark stepped out and saw Vassily riding towards them and looking the worse for wear. He waved at him as he broke the seal to the letter, cherishing the opportunity to stretch his legs as he read before they went back to sitting for hours until they stopped for lunch somewhere. 

The more he read, though, the more he frowned. It was not even a long letter, but… it was most certainly an annoying one. 

The obvious thing would be to reply to Nikolaj and tell him that, of course, he too had noticed that Elik was diffident. Yes, he would hold Elik’s hand as he tried to wean him off his habit of asking permission for every little thing, but he didn’t want to do it. 

As he re-read the letter, though, the more he wanted to write to Nikolaj that perhaps the reason Elik was so diffident was because they had fucked him up. Literally and figuratively. That he’d asked Vasya to help, because Vasya was good at encouraging his men, but they had to let Vasya know how they had fucked up, so he could really help. How could he write these things? 

Nikolaj was his best friend, but he was first of all, still, and always, His Emperor. His Lord and Master, who sometimes listened to the truth, and other times, he got furious when he heard it. How could he write something like that to Nikolaj, when he was not certain of how it would be received? He hadn’t been brave enough to tell him in the couple of chances that he’d had in the past, so…

No, he could not write what he wanted. “Fuck.”

Vassily dismounted and stared at him curiously. 

He took a deep breath. “Can it wait for a moment? Sorry.” He hurried to Vasya’s carriage.

Vasya was focused on whatever he was writing. Several papers were strewn over his seat, and while three of the kittens were on the floor, tearing a piece of paper with delight, one of the two black ones was on Vasya’s shoulder, looking down at his work with the manner of an inspector. 

He knocked on the window and that made the kitten jump down from Vasya, land on the seat next to him and hiss. 

He opened the door and went in the carriage quickly. 

“What’s wrong?” Vasya asked him.

“Nothing.”

Vasya glanced at his hands, still holding Nikolaj’s letter and scrunching it between his fingers. “Of course, it is nothing. Would you like to join me for official business?”

Mark chuckled. “Ah, I am so very tempted. Nothing like watching kittens to make one’s mood better.”

“Brushing Oleg is just as good.”

He nodded. “For you, maybe. You know, for someone who doesn’t like cats, you are most attentive to them.”

“Of course. They are Grisha’s,” Vasya told him in an affronted manner. 

“Of course,” he smiled. He petted the hissing kitten. “Duke Okdranov just arrived from Oerestand but I think His Majesty will be too busy replying to His Majesty to listen to any reports. I hope you don’t mind that this will be a working lunch.”

“Of course not, Chancellor.”

“I will be back for official business later, Your Excellency,” he laughed as he stepped out and closed the door behind him, deliberately leaving Nikolaj’s letter behind. Vasya had to know that he had to help Elik, and he had to do it soon, before Nikolaj lost all patience with his Regent, and perhaps even with his husband. 

It was easy, after all, to provide praise and reassurance to your cute and young husband, but age would catch up even with the cutest and most youthful of husbands and then, it would no longer be such a pleasant task. Elik had to become Nikolaj’s equal, his indispensable friend and confidant; him, Nikolaj would always keep close, even if he stopped sharing his bed. 

That letter was too annoying, he decided. He wouldn’t reply to it, and wherever they stopped for lunch, he’d burn it!

“Ah, Vassily,” he shouted at his fellow Minister. “His Majesty is probably busy replying to His Majesty. Do you want to join me?”

&*&*

Rich people were all the same, Grigori thought as he waited for his Grace, Duke Bjeliovic-Kontoff, to receive him. Big reception rooms made to intimidate and impress whoever came to see them, enough gold and decorations on the wall to show off, but not as many as there were in the main rooms of the palace, where only the few could enter. He smirked. 

Valery glanced at him. “He has made you wait for thirty minutes already, Sir. Are you sure he read the letter of introduction that you gave to his secretary?” he whispered. 

He nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we were the last ones he receives today,” he told him, looking around at the other people who, just like him, were seated along the walls of the reception room waiting to see the Duke. He and Valery were the only ones in undress uniform; everyone else wore what was probably their best clothes, letting Grigori categorize them quickly: impoverished aristocrat, merchant, merchant, servant, even more impoverished aristocrat, worker. 

Valery looked disappointed. 

“We will have finished in time for whatever you want to.” Grigori suddenly smiled at him. “And I said ‘at ease’, so sit the fuck down.”

This time, Valery obeyed him and sat down next to him. “I checked my watch one time too many?”

He nodded. 

“Sorry.”

Grigori glared at him. “Don’t apologize when you haven’t done anything wrong. Technically, we are not on duty; you are allowed to check your watch whenever the fuck you want.”

Valery chuckled. “Ah, I have missed you, Sir,” he said. 

“But you are happy as one of His Majesty’s Special Guards, are you not?”

Valery nodded. “His Majesty is very kind, and he knows how to have fun. And,” he smiled, “it is a different kind of challenge. I am enjoying that.”

Grigori smiled, not asking how it was a different challenge being one of Vasya’s men than one of his. Technically, that was a State Secret. “I was glad to see that all that fun did not make you soft.”

“Thank you, Sir. The Captain makes sure we all exercise vigorously every day, although,” he laughed, “our training regime as Special Guards is a child’s play compared to that of your men.”

He snorted. He had no doubt about that. “You can always join us at camp this autumn.” 

“With all due respect, Sir, I’d rather not stand under waterfalls this year.”

“We are all going fishing. And bear hunting.”

“No, thank you.”

“Your loss.” Why would anyone pass the chance to go bear hunting? He couldn’t understand it. Even Vasya enjoyed it. Or used to; since he’d become His Majesty’s Captain, he had missed their last two hunts, and he suspected that he would not join them this autumn either. 

Fuck; the last two training trips without Vasya had been hard on him. Everything was more fun when his husband was there. But if the days with Vasya were fun, the nights were perfect; he had been suffering alone, without Vasya to keep him warm or exchange ideas and news and observations. 

He hoped Vasya was keeping himself busy. He would be reading books or working, probably. Ah, how serious he could be. He had to persuade him to join him for the bear hunt this autumn. A little exercise would do him good. 

&*&*

How had Mark managed to persuade His Grace to not bother His Majesty after lunch? He had to ask him later, he thought as he climbed into His Majesty’s carriage. For that matter, how had he persuaded His Majesty to let Oleg run with Dima? For that he was even more grateful than for keeping Okdranov away; Oleg was a much greater distraction! For both of them!

“I am glad to see that you are in good spirits,” His Majesty told him as soon as a Guard closed the carriage door behind him. “Vasily, Vasya, I will say it. You looked miserable four days ago, when we left Jedlowa.”

Vasily nodded. “I was.”

“May I ask why?”

Perhaps this could be as good as an opening as any. “Yes, and I will answer.” He smiled. “Four days ago, it was the anniversary of my first meeting with Grisha, and the first time in eighteen years that we were not together on the day.”

“Oh.” Elik frowned. “Is that a thing? Do you celebrate first meetings at Bosilke?”

“No, but, Grisha and I, we make our own rules.”

Elik’s expression turned soft, then sad, then soft again. “I am happy to hear that.”

Vasily hated himself for a moment. “You will also celebrate your first meeting with His Majesty, though,” he said, trying hard not to grimace. That custom was horrible. 

“I know,” Elik told him quietly as he looked out. “And I’m supposed to go thank Our Honoured Ancestors for our victory over Quhjan,” he sighed. “I don’t want to do it, Vasya,” he cried out as he turned to look at him. “I know that without that victory and without my decision, I would not be here now, but part of me is still Elik of Quhjan, and not of Bosilke, and I don’t want to celebrate the death of my comrades and the subjugation of my country.”

“Should we call out to them, so that they can support you on your duty? We can do it in the gardens before you leave for the Capital.”

Elik looked at him with disbelief. 

“Besides, if your comrades were anything like mine, they’d be amused to see you offering incense instead of blood to the Ancestors of their enemies,” he grinned. “I bet mine were, when they heard me call out to your dead. They probably thought, ‘well, look at that, Bosilik and Quhjani together, peacefully united in grief and remembrance. Imagine such a thing!’”

“That’s how it felt for you?”

“Yes. Didn’t you feel it?”

Elik nodded once. “And it made me feel like I could belong to Bosilke, even without His Majesty next to me, protecting me.”

“Is that who he is to you? Your protector? Not your equal?” Elik stared at him with a blank expression and Vasily wanted to give him points for hiding how he felt. He stared back. “Maybe, we can talk about what makes you doubt yourself?”

“Why don’t you tell me? You know everything,” Elik snapped at him, looking annoyed and reminding him of Lady Irina, and how she been irritated when she had been trying to avoid admitting her rude behaviour. 

“I told you before, no one living knows everything. I read reports, I watch, and listen, and then I think about what I read, heard, and saw. I make hypotheses a lot of the time.”

“They are right, though,” Elik continued in the same vexed tone. 

Vasily stared at him. He was just as bad as Lady Irina, he thought and tried not to smile. 

“You are trying to make me know myself,” Elik told him, sounding less peeved. “I thought I had to learn how to identify which things make me angry or carried away first,” he huffed. 

“Don’t you know them already?”

He sighed after a long silence. “I guess I do. But I really don’t know why I… are you sure you can’t tell me?”

Vasily nodded. 

Elik huffed again, looking disappointed. “Perhaps it would be easier talking about Nikolaj, but I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I miss him so much, and if I start talking about him, I will miss him even more.” He ended his sentence with a long sigh. 

“Ah, yes, that I understand. I also miss Grisha,” he whispered. He wondered…. He removed his wedding ring and showed it to Elik. “He made this for me, and every time I look at it when he is away, it…” he decided to sigh the way Elik did. 

Elik took it and studied it. “Wood?” he asked curiously. 

He nodded. Grigori had been so poor when they’d married, that he couldn’t afford to buy him a ring, nor did he have a family to give him an heirloom to use, but this was so much better. No craftsman could come up with something so wonderful and so appropriate for them. “Three types. See? The outer sections are made of oak, because the oak is strong and powerful and has a long life. Inside, there is a section of apple tree wood, because that is the tree associated with love, and in its centre there is a two-strand braid made of birch. That’s us,” he told Elik, smiling and feeling a shiver run down his spine, like it always did every time he remembered Grisha’s explanation. His Grisha was just so wonderful! “That’s why he chose these three types of wood, to make a testament that our lives are entwined because of love, and our love is protected by our strength. And he gave it to me!” Grisha was so wonderful; he could have had anyone, yet he’d chosen him! 

Elik looked at it with wonder. He sighed as he gave it back to him. “There is no such ring even in the romances I read.”

He nodded, smiling. “Grisha is so clever!” He put it back on his finger. “This is the second one he made for me. After a couple of years of marriage, I grew too big for the first one!” And even though that time Grisha could have afforded to buy him one, instead he’d made him this, an exact copy of his first one! 

Elik smiled. “I’m surprised you knew you wanted to get married when you were that young.”

“Oh, of course! I told you, we met when we were twelve. At thirteen, I knew he was my One and Only, and Grisha knew that I was his. We only waited until we were sixteen to celebrate our union, because it’s tradition to get married when you become an adult, and not before.” 

Elik stared at him as if he were watching a play about lovers. “You should write your story,” he sighed. “I would buy that romance.”

He grinned. “I am not very artistic, and Grisha is much better at carving and making things than writing stories.” Somedays, Grisha even hated writing reports. He would never write their story. Nor would he. 

“What a shame.” Elik smiled. “At thirteen, I would go around with a book in my hands. Even when I walked, I carried a book so as not to waste time and…” his expression fell. “I would get lost a lot, perhaps because I was reading as I walked. Radu would always find me, and bring me home.” He stared at him miserably. “I had no idea that he liked me. Not even when I left for the Capital. You already knew whom you wanted to marry at thirteen, His Majesty had started fucking at fourteen, while I remained a virgin until my wedding.”

“That must have made everything even scarier,” Vasily whispered.

Elik nodded. “Yes, he was kind, but frightening too,” he murmured, avoiding his gaze. 

He waited.

“He’s…” Elik took a deep breath. “You are right. I don’t see him as my equal, but as my protector when he is kind, and as my Lord when he is frightening. I love him so much it hurts, but I am not his equal.”

“Why?”

“Because….” Elik whimpered 

Ah, fuck it. “Do you need a hug?”

With a nod, Elik stood up from his seat and came to sit next to him. Vasily hugged him as he shivered. “He’s always changing his mind about what he wants me to be, and I don’t even know who I am anymore. I think I am getting to the point where I can be both Elik of Quhjan and of Bosilke, but when I think that next month, I will have to be happy in public that you defeated us, I cannot be of Bosilke. Life was easier when I was his slave.”

Vasily smiled softly. “The youth in you is dying to be replaced by the adult. No wonder you are confused.”

Elik looked up at him as he sniffled. “You don’t think I’m lost?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I think you are becoming an adult. Losing your identity, becoming a slave, adapting to life at Court, becoming his Consort, learning your duties, they have helped you grow, but… I think even then you were still pampered and cherished and treated like a pet, or a child.”

“His Majesty’s Most precious treasure,” Elik whispered as he looked down again. 

“Indeed. But now, you are becoming his helpmate and his equal, and that is frightening. Freedom to do as you want and choose your life is scary, especially when all you’ve known is obedience to the rules.”

“But I do want to please him.”

“There is nothing wrong with that. But do you want to please him because he is Your Lord and he frightens you, or because he is your protector and he is kind?”

Elik stayed quiet. He pulled away from him after a few minutes. “I don’t know. But I know this. I should want to please him because he is my husband and we are equals.”

He nodded.

“I do love him,” Elik told him seriously.

“No one doubts that.”

“Sometimes, during my first year at Ivanhof, I would wonder if I loved him because he was kind when he could have been cruel. But then, so many things happened, that I stopped thinking about that.”

“Perhaps you did love him at first because he was kind to you. Why do you love him now?”

“Because I do? If I asked you, why do you love Grisha, could you reply?”

He nodded. “Because Grisha is the most brave, courageous, caring, clever, and capable person I have ever met in my whole life. Because he asks questions that make me see the world differently and force me to think. Because,” he smiled widely, “he’s making me be a better person, and I like that. I love him because when I’m with him, I am at peace. I love him because he taught me to stop struggling and to just be, and live in the present. I love him because I like the person that was made by his love better than the person that I was, and I want to be better for him. I love him because he is my rock, and I want to be his. Always.”

Elik gasped. “All that?”

“And more. So, can you tell me why do you love him now?”

Elik blushed fiercely. “I love it when he loves me. Physically, I mean, but… apart from that?” He looked even more embarrassed. 

“Ah, but you are still very much newlyweds,” Vasily smiled at him. “Physical love burns the hottest then.”

Elik nodded. “I have no complaints about that. I… I like that he makes me feel cherished.”

“Perhaps you still love him because he is kind, then,” Vasily told him. “Is that why you want to please him?”

“Didn’t you ask this earlier?”

“And you didn’t reply. You told me that you didn’t want to please him because he was your equal, so either you want to please him because you feel in his debt, or because you are afraid of him.”

Elik leaned down and Vasily opened his arms so he could hug him again. “Can I think about it? Please?”

“Of course.”

Elik shivered. “I wonder if I never really loved him, then.”

Vasily laughed loudly. “Elik, even a blind man can see that you love him. The question is, why don’t you let yourself believe that you are his equal? Why do you hold back?”

“I…” Elik fell quiet, and Vasily felt him grow tense. 

He started slowly caressing his back, the way he’d do when he was trying to calm down Sashenka. A few moments later, he started humming to him an old lullaby, just like he’d do with his little brother. 

“Sometimes,” Elik whispered so softly, and making him stop his quiet song, “he scares me. He’s so big, and he’s so used to being obeyed. And sometimes, I scare myself. He says we’re equal now, but he’s broken his word in the past. What if I ask too much and lose him? Because I do love him, Vasya. I love him so much,” he started crying. “He makes me feel so alive when he touches me. Even his gaze feels like a caress when it falls on me, and everything inside me burns.”

Vasily looked up for a moment. Fuck, it wasn’t Elik he should be talking to; it was His Majesty. He smiled. “At least you know why you love him. He makes you feel alive. Elik?”

He looked at him, sniffling. “Yes?”

“Remember what we were saying about trust and openness? That you have to open your heart to the courtiers, trust that they don’t want to harm you, and let yourself relax around then, so they can also feel you are their friend, and befriend you back?” 

Elik nodded. 

“I think you should do the same with His Majesty. Trust him when he says that you are his equal, trust that he doesn’t want to hurt you, and trust that he loves you. I know he can be frightening, and…” he felt himself grow angry and made himself calm down, “I wasn’t there that day he first married you, but I know how that ritual goes. I know he hurt you, but you overcame that, and found it in yourself to love him, because he made you feel something you had never felt before. So, now you need to overcome your fear, and relax in your love. Your love for him, and his for you.”

Elik sighed deeply, his expression showing he didn’t believe him. 

“I’m not saying it will be easy, but, Elik, if you keep asking him to prove his love for you, as you have been doing for months, and you continue showing him that his proofs are not enough, you will lose him.” Elik grew pale, but he continued. He hadn’t liked at all what he had read in that letter that Mark had left for him. “If you keep being afraid of him, and trying to please him and appease him, you will lose him. For how long will he wait for you to show yourself his equal?” Elik shuddered and he caressed his back. “And you have to stop being afraid of yourself. You are stronger than you think, so much stronger.”

Elik huffed. “Are you sure you’re not a witch?”

“Of course,” he smiled. “I just listened to what you told me.”

“I didn’t say any of that.”

“You did.”

“Witch,” Elik snorted and slid even further down on the seat, until he was lying on the seat, with his head resting on his arms over Vasily’s lap. “I’m tired, Vasya,” he said as he closed his eyes. 

“Then, sleep.”

Elik smiled a little. “Can you sing to me?”

“Of course.” He started humming the same lullaby as he looked outside. What a fucking mess. 

&*&*

Evgeni looked out of the large window of the great dance hall in Thomas’ palace. “Where are they?”

Maxim patted his shoulder. “They’ll be here, Brother. Stop worrying.”

“But the Major is expected for dinner at our Ambassador’s tonight. If he is any later, he will…” he might not even come back to change, but go straight for dinner. 

“Stop worrying,” Maxim told him again. 

Sila smirked from where he was leaning against the wall between two of the windows. “Who would have thought that Our Ambassador was so desperate to hear Bosilik that he didn’t even mind the Major’s swearing, and invited him for a second night in a row.”

“Was it my impression, or did he swear more than usual?” Evgeni asked him. 

“No, it wasn’t your impression,” Sila laughed. “He loves shocking aristos with his language.”

“Did you see how the wife of the Ambassador of Thur-and-Foire was blushing all the time?” Evgeni grinned. 

“It wasn’t the language that made her blush,” Carel said with a wicked grin. 

“You dog,” Sila laughed. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. Nothing during dinner at least.”

Maxim laughed. “Well done!”

“Well, I couldn’t leave her alone, could I? Such a pretty thing with such a husband. No offense meant, guys, but if you like men, you should marry men, and leave the Ladies for those who appreciate them. Not marry them and make them miserable, like that scoundrel.”

“I think it’s better for their careers if they are married. Thomas said that, if he had been married when he first became a diplomat, he would have been promoted to Ambassador quicker, and he’d probably be sent at a more illustrious court than this. Deep Port is considered a good place to be, or Fladd.”

“Then, he should have married a man,” Carel said with disapproval. 

“Perhaps he likes both men and women,” Evgeni said, “and that’s why he married her.”

“No, if he liked women, she wouldn’t be so receptive to my advances.”

“True. Did you learn anything?”

“The Ambassador was not lying when he said that his Master, the Emperor, had no idea whatsoever about what Francis and Leopold had planned together with Fredrik. Of course, the Emperor could have lied to his servant…”

They nodded. 

“They’re here,” Maxim shouted. “I’ll go get your husband.” 

“I’ll go intercept them,” Sila grinned.

“You check that everything is ready,” they all sang to Evgeni. 

He blushed. “I only said that twice.”

“No, you said it nine times in three hours,” Carel laughed. “But let’s check everything one more time,” he said as Maxim and Sila ran out of the room, still laughing. 

“I just want everything to be nice,” Evgeni smiled, feeling embarrassed. He hadn’t realized he’d said it nine times! 

“And it will be! Brother, I am so happy for you,” Carel told him, grinning. 

“Thank you.” Evgeni looked around one more time. They had moved the few chairs and furniture that were against the walls to another room, and that made the hall look even more spacious. The light fell softly inside, filtered through the fine muslin white curtains that covered the windows, while they had pulled aside the second layer of heavy green damask curtains and put garlands of flowers over their ties. Last, but not least, there were vases with fresh roses everywhere. 

Carel looked around with him. “I think it looks nice.”

“Do you think we should have lit some incense?”

“No, it’s fine with just the flowers giving off their perfume. It looks nice,” he repeated, nodding. He patted Evgeni down. “Just making sure there are no wrinkles in your dress uniform,” he grinned.

Evgeni blushed. “Was it that obvious?”

“A little. We all thought that it was time you got lucky.”

“Ah, I did get lucky, didn’t I?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Thomas stand at the door. “How did I get so lucky?” Thomas whispered as he studied him with a smile. 

No, he was the lucky one. And how gorgeous Thomas looked in his dark pink coat and breeched and his cream waistcoat, all embroidered with gold thread. The Chancellor’s clothes had been nice on him, but Thomas moved with ease and grace in his own things. Ah, he smiled. Thomas was going to be his, according to their customs!

Carel grinned. 

“Yes, you did,” the Major said sternly from the door in his perfect Valentinois. “You better appreciate it.”

Evgeni and Carel saluted him.

Valery ran next to him. “Sorry, the Duke saw us last and then he kept us for lunch. A lunch that lasted for ever,” he whispered in Bosilik. “Why did he have to serve twenty courses when no one ate anything?”

“What is the meaning of this?” the Major asked him as he stepped into the room, passing Thomas, who looked mildly scared, while Sila and Maxim grinned as they followed the Major. “We are expected for dinner at His Excellency’s in thirty minutes.”

“Sir, I would like you to marry us,” Evgeni told him, surprised at how steady his voice was. 

The Major stared at him. He suddenly smiled. “Vasya would have done that, wouldn’t he?” He laughed. “Ah, fine. I am honoured that you chose me for this. But why not your Captain? He would love to officiate.” He looked around. “Hm, everything looks very well-decorated.”

Evgeni smiled proudly. Everything was nice, and the Major approved. 

“But I still don’t understand. Many things I do not understand. You,” he turned to Thomas, “You said that you would exchange rings yesterday. And you,” he faced Evgeni, “wouldn’t you prefer to get married at Bosilke, under the gaze of your Honoured Ancestors and with Va… your Captain or even His Majesty marrying you?”

Thomas and Evgeni looked at each other. “I wanted to do this yesterday, but Evgeni didn’t want to, so,” Thomas smiled at him, “I wanted to make him happy.”

“Ah.” The Major’s expression softened. “And you? What do you have to say?”

“Well… I did think that we could exchange rings like that, but it wouldn’t be right if we exchanged them outside a wedding ceremony. And… if we waited until Thomas is back… Would there be enough time between the wedding and the acceptance ceremony? What if Thomas arrived just days before the Winter Solstice?” He sighed. He really wanted to participate in the festivities with his husband!

The Major smiled at him kindly. “Yes, now I understand. I too would not want to miss the Winter Solstice Celebrations.” He stayed quiet, looking absorbed in happy memories for a few moments. 

Evgeni waited until he was about to start questioning him again. “And then I thought, what if Our Honoured Ancestors were like the Quhjani Spirits? They are everywhere, and one can invoke them regardless of where one is. So, what if Our Own Honoured Ancestors are everywhere?” 

“Indeed,” the Major smiled, amused. 

“Besides,” he grinned, “His Majesty has already married us once, and I know that that the Captain would be happy for you to officiate.”

“Really? You seem so sure of that,” he teased him.

“I am, because I know that if there was a choice between you and him, he would always choose you.”

The Major snorted. “I wish I could say that you are wrong.” He gave him a little nod. “Fine, I will marry you as you wish.”

“Thank you,” Evgeni gasped. 

“There is still the problem of the Ambassador’s dinner invitation. Hm. Sila?”

“Sir?”

The Major wrote down something in his notebook. “Please, take this to Count Srodina and demand that he replies immediately. Thank you,” he said as he folded the piece of paper and handed it to Sila. 

“Yes, Sir.” After a salute, Sila ran out of the room. 

“Gentlemen, I wish you will indulge me in waiting for His Excellency’s reply before continuing with the proceedings.”

Evgeni smiled. The Major sounded just like the Captain, polite, friendly, but using a tone that made clear that he did not ask, he commanded. And he was using no swearwords. Just like the Captain. “Of course,” he nodded. 

“But what do we do while we wait?” Maxim asked. “Sir?”

“Play cards?”

“For trifles?”

“Of course.”

Thomas led them to the parlour. 

“I swear, playing for trifles was the most marvelous idea His Majesty came up with,” the Major told them as they sat around the table and Thomas brought them a deck. 

“Running Queens?” Thomas asked as he sat down.

They all nodded, and the Major stretched out his palm. Thomas gave him the deck immediately. 

“When Vasya told me,” he said as he started shuffling the cards, “I made all the Reds stop playing for money. In turn, they made their friends from other regiments follow their example. I am pleased to say that you will no longer find an army man playing for money in the Capital.”

“It’s nice to know that you can have fun without having to kill yourself over debts,” Carel said.

“We stopped a young idiot from hanging himself after losing a fortune at Aedley,” Valery added. 

“And the fool killed himself a day later,” Maxim shook his head with utter disgust. “What idiocy.”

“At least he had a fortune to waste,” Carel added. “Do you remember the story we read in the newspapers of that tailor’s assistant who had lost so much money he didn’t have, he resorted to stealing from his own employer, got caught, killed the man in an attempt to escape from the shop, but had made so much noise that he was arrested by civilians and brought to justice?”

Evgeni nodded. “Yes. He was not even sixteen, and he had been driven to such depths of…” He sighed. “What a waste. I wonder if they have hanged him by now.”

“Probably.”

He sighed.

Maxim shuddered. “Honestly, why are we talking of dead men on the day of your wedding? That’s such bad luck.” He grimaced. “Let’s talk of something else,” he smiled as the Major started dealing the cards. “Sir? Who officiated in your wedding with the Captain?”

“Yes, who?” Evgeni and Carel asked at the same time.

Valery nodded. “Yes, Sir, who?”

The Major grinned. “Cousin Mark, of course, who else?”

“Ah, of course,” Valery smiled. 

They nodded, even Thomas, who had no idea of whom they were talking. Evgeni reminded himself to ask the Major if he could tell Thomas who Cousin Mark was. 

Evgeni sighed softly. “And you had a fall wedding. That must have been so beautiful.”

The Major smiled. “It was. The leaves had changed colour already, and everything was golden, and bathed in a golden light. It had been such a bright day.” More happy memories seemed to take over his mind, so soft was his expression. 

“You are hiding a story from us,” Maxim laughed. “If I win this round, you will tell us. Sir.”

“There is not much to tell, but if you win, I will tell you.”

“Deal.”

They played quietly for a while, until Maxim put down his cards, opening them for all to see. “I have the Running Queens,” he declared, showing them that he had managed to collect all four Queens. “The story, if you please,” he grinned. “Sir.”

They all put their cards down and Maxim gathered them so he could shuffle them.

“I had made wreaths with autumn leaves and flowers for us. Vasya looked so…” he sighed happily. He looked at Evgeni and Thomas. “I hope you two will be happy as we are,” he told them solemnly. 

“Thank you,” Thomas said quietly while looking at Evgeni’s eyes. “I want to make you happy, Evgeni, and I will.” 

“I want the same, Thomas.”

They stared at each other until Maxim and Carel started making kissing noises. Evgeni blushed. 

“They will kiss after their wedding, as it is proper,” the Major huffed. 

“Did you wait to kiss until after your wedding? Sir?” Maxim asked cheekily. 

Valery hit him. “You can’t ask that of the Major,” he hissed. “It’s rude.”

“Did you wait to kiss until after your wedding?” The Major asked Maxim. 

“What wedding?”

The Major smirked. 

“You mean,” Maxim gasped. 

“Sir, Sir,” Sila panted from the door. “Here,” he gasped as he ran and gave a folded paper to the Major.

He unfolded it and smiled. “Gentlemen, we can now return to what you had so cleverly and sneakily planned.”

“But… you won’t tell us what was so important that we had to wait? Sir?” 

“Maxim,” Valery hissed. “Stop being an idiot. The Major will tell us if he wants to tell us. Though, I too want to know, Sir!”

“Please, Sir?” Sila nodded, still catching his breath. 

Evgeni looked at him pleadingly. 

The Major relented. “I asked His Excellency if he wouldn’t mind hosting the wedding dinner,” he smiled as he stood up. “He kindly agreed. I think he had missed hearing Bosilik,” he grinned. “He didn’t even bat an eye when I swore last night.”

“You are showing admirable restraint now, Sir,” Valery smiled.

“It’s a wedding day. It’s a special day. I can abstain from profanities for a few hours. Who is the Master of Ceremonies?” he asked as he stepped into the hall and stood in the middle.

“We all are,” the Guards grinned as they entered the hall and stood half-way between the door and the Major. 

The Major snorted. “Why am I not surprised? Then, start, Gentlemen, what are you waiting for?”

“Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur,” they sang.

Thomas stepped into the room. 

“Evgeni Bykanov,” they sang. 

Evgeni walked in and stopped next to Thomas, feeling his heart beat almost as wildly as when they married at Jedlowa. A little more, perhaps. This time, they were marrying like Bosilik did. He gave Thomas his hand and together they walked until they reached the Major. 

“Thomas d’Heunnigcoeur, you come here to pledge yourself and all you have to this person, in front of all of your ancestors?”

“It is the truth, I do,” Thomas said loudly.

“Evgeni Bykanov, you come here to pledge yourself and all you have to this person, in front of all of your ancestors?”

“It is the truth, I do.”

Maxim approached them and took out a small box from his pocket. The Major opened it and smiled brightly when he saw what was there. 

He took out the ring that had belonged to Thomas’ father, a solid gold signet ring with three hearts in a shield under a count’s coronet. “Yours?” he whispered with a smile at Thomas.  
Thomas nodded, grinning. “Thank you,” he mouthed excitedly. 

“Thomas d’Heunnigcoeur, plight your troth,” he said giving the ring to Thomas. 

Thomas slid the ring carefully onto his left ring finger. Evgeni felt like that ring was branding him, and where Thomas’ fingers touched him, he burned. Thomas was his, and he was Thomas’! 

“This is a token of my love, esteem and affection for you,” Thomas said the old vow. “From now, what is mine is yours. From now, I will cherish, honour, and protect you. From now, I will respect and value you as my first husband, my equal, my partner. From now, share my joys. From now, share my pains and my sorrows. From now, be my One and Only,” he finished, saying the last sentence in Bosilik.

With an approving and satisfied expression, the Major gave a thick, plain band to Evgeni. “Evgeni Bykanov, give your troth.”

With a smile and feeling like he could skip with happiness, Evgeni slid the ring on Thomas’ finger. “From now, what is mine is yours. From now, I will cherish, honour, and protect you. From now, I will respect and value you as my first husband, my equal, my partner. From now, share and my joys. From now, share my pains and my sorrows. From now, be my One and Only.”

The Major smiled at them. “Husband and Husband, May you be One from now.”

“Kiss,” Maxim shouted behind him. “Ouch. What did you do that for?”

Evgeni and Thomas grinned. 

“You can kiss now,” the Major told them.

Evgeni felt his mouth open into a grin that grew wider and wider. “Thomas,” he muttered, or tried to; his voice came out as a pleased growl. 

Thomas shivered at the sound.

Under the joyous sound of his brothers laughing and encouraging them to kiss, Evgeni joined their hands and kissed Thomas on the lips. Oh, how much better it was to get married and be able to kiss in public. How much better! And when Thomas joined him in the Capital, they could hold hands and hug and kiss in public whenever they wanted. 

How lucky he was that Thomas was his!

&*&*

Nikolaj yawned. He was tired, but he had to make himself stay awake for a few more minutes before he went to bed. His Darling would worry if he didn’t hear from him often. 

Ah, how sweet and silly his Love could be….

_8th of Fire Month,_

_My Darling!_

_I am well, and have received your letter from the 2nd of this month! And your cookies!_

_My Love, You and Mark make a great team! I read the treaty and the trade agreement with great interest and I could not think of any comments. Oh, I cannot wait to read what you do once you are back home and start working with the whole Council and not just Mark!_

He snorted. He had skimmed through both documents and then gave them to his secretary to make one-page summaries of them for him. The trade agreement alone ran for fifty pages. Who had time to read that? Well, his secretary, obviously, not him! 

_I was so happy to read that you will establish an altar to Luck at Jedlowa. My Heart, I am so happy that you do see Bosilke as your home! Oh, my Love, you really are so Good and Kind! How lucky I am to have you!_

_Also, can you send me more of the almond cookies when you are back? I think you and V managed to replicate them perfectly. And maybe some rose or sour cherry jam? I think if one added a fine layer between two of the cookies, they would be even more delicious._

_You must think me frivolous, but almond cookies from your own sweet hands? They remind me what waits for me back home. You, my Most Sweet and Precious Darling. Also, they have proven a hit as big as your sweet breads. Please send Us more so we can share them._

_Your very loving husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. we will start moving soon – depending on the reports of our reconnaissance team, perhaps even in two days_

_p.p.s. I was not joking; your almond cookies were a Most Desirable Item. Please, send Us A LOT!_

He bit into one of the few cookies he had kept for himself. Truly, the moment the courier had arrived with this special delivery, everyone had been so curious that he had to distribute them to his members of staff, and then draw a lottery, with each winner getting one of them. They really had been well-received. 

But what was his Love doing, cooking like crazy? What a strange creature he had married, he smiled. He would have been annoyed if his Love had just sent him cookies, but together with the treaty and the agreement, he was pleased. 

His sweet, little wife was becoming his competent Regent! 

He took another piece of paper and started writing. 

_8th of Fire Month,_

_Dear Mark,_

_My friend! I don’t know what you have been doing, but keep doing it! His latest letter showed how confident he is becoming and he did not need to be reassured ONCE! Nevertheless, naturally I praised him for all his hard work, because he deserves it! Ah, I am so lucky to have him as my Husband!_

_And even luckier to have you as my friend! Thank you, My friend, thank you! Keep guiding him! Thank you!_

_Sincerely yours, your friend,_

_Nikolaj_

He closed and sealed both letters and left them on his desk. Now, he could sleep!


	54. Chapter 54

Elik smiled at them as he stood up. “We would like to ride with His Grace this morning, Chancellor. We have to start working on Our project.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“But We would like to ride with Vasya in the afternoon, as usual.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you. I will see you later, then. Oleg, come, boy!”

“I would like to have some official business with you this morning,” Mark told Vasya as Elik left the inn’s dining room and went outside, Oleg following him. 

“Ah, of course,” Vasya said, sounding a little disappointed. 

“What is the matter?” 

“Nothing. I will explain every…” He smiled. “Nothing.” 

They walked quietly out. Mark followed him in his carriage and immediately went to check on the kittens. “They sleep a lot.”

“They were up at five this morning. All four of them.”

“Ah,” he grinned, imagining Vasya trying to sleep over the noise of four just awakened kittens running everywhere and clawing at everything they could get. 

“Since you are here, may I take this opportunity to show you something?”

Mark groaned. “You do want to work.”

“Of course.” Vasya opened a folder and showing him a paper with lists. “Something that happened the other day made me start thinking about my responsibilities, so I started making a list of all the duties that my job entails.” He turned it face down before Mark could read it. “I am still working on this. I am also working on this.” He took out another paper, and this one he handed to Mark. 

There were several columns, each with a name and a title on top. Mark recognised them all, starting from his. Then there was Vassily Okdranov, His Majesty’s Minister of War, Artemi Dutov, Head of the Secret Police, Ivan Orning, Head of the Office of Secret Affairs, Trifon Bitoulin, Head of His Majesty’s Security, and at the end, there was Vasya’s name. There was nothing else, though. 

“What am I looking at?”

“The heads of the different intelligence offices.” He took out more papers, and handed one to Mark.

His name was at the top, and words were everywhere, as if they had been scribbled at random.

“This is the tasks that your office handles. I am still working on it, and I will put everything in order when I make the final list, but…” He gave Mark another paper, this one with Vassily’s name on top. 

Same mess of words everywhere. 

“What do you mean, and what do you want?” Mark smirked. Having Vasya explain would be easier than going over the papers that Vasya was working on. 

“I mean, right now we have six intelligence offices, whose duties and tasks overlap in some cases. We need to separate our duties and co-ordinate communications, or we will end up doing double work with no results, because each office will think it is someone else’s work to do.”

Mark smiled a little. “That system has worked well in the past.”

“Yes, because you and Vassily discuss things, and Count Dutov handles mostly non-military matters. But this office of Secret Affairs? I have no idea what they do.”

So, Vasya was irritated at not knowing something?

“From what I understand, though, they also handle non-military matters. Your office also handles some of those.” He shook his head. “The system works so far because we all know each other, and the Court is still small. But things are changing. The Book of Purple already has more noble families than it did three years ago. The Court will grow soon. Besides…”

“Yes?”

“I saw how impressed His Majesty was by Sorain, and how all the courtiers who wanted to have a career in court, had to live there. I suspect he wants to remake Ivanhof in the image of Sorain. Imagine, having courtiers from all 500 families in one place, not the hundred or so that are now there. Also, it would be good for the future.”

Mark frowned. What did Vasya know of Their Majesties’ Work? He’d thought everything was still a secret. “What do you know of the future? Vasya?”

“Nothing. But everything will have to change, won’t it? Bringing in the nobles is just one step of making the new territories part of Bosilke, isn’t it? Quhjan is autonomous, and is now loyal thanks to His Majesty. But what happens in two generations, where His Majesty will be only a name and a memory? There will be no Quhjani children on the throne of Bosilke to whom the Quhjani will feel loyal. So, they must be integrated somehow, and develop a sense that they too belong to Bosilke.

“Mark, I told you before, art is a bridge between the people, but without political and other reforms, it will be meaningless. Therefore, I think that there will be reforms in the future, because that is the only thing that makes sense for Bosilke at this point in its history.”

Vasya smiled at him. “I am just thinking ahead. We cannot have six offices of intelligence working on the same things and relying on personal communications to decide who deals with what, especially if there is any restructuring of both the military and the civil administration.”

Mark smiled at him, trying not to show his admiration about how clever Vasya was. “I understand your point. And what do you want?”

“I want a meeting with all the Heads of the various offices, so we can decide and refine our tasks.”

He snorted. “Good luck with that. Everyone will want operations that can lead to glory and promotions if successful.” Well, almost everyone. He was certain that Vasya didn’t care about such things. 

“Then, if we cannot decide, we will present the Council and Our Most Hard-Working Regent with our suggestions for the division of tasks, and let you, the rest of the Council, and His Majesty decide.”

He laughed. “That would sound so fair, if you didn’t know that you already have two out of the six votes in your favour.”

“And two against me.”

Ah, yes, Dima, married to one of the Stanjisnkis, and of course Vassily.

“Perhaps we will be able to sort it out among ourselves,” Vasya smiled again. “Who knows.”

Mark nodded. “Who knows.” He glanced down, at the still sleeping kittens.

Vasya reached down and picked up the white one. It barely stirred, and then fell back into sleep as Vasya cradled it in his palm. “Here.”

Mark took the kitten and placed it on his lap. It moved, half-opened an eye, and went back to sleep as Mark petted it. How soothing it was to feel this soft, fine fur.

Vasya picked up one of the black kittens and let it curl beside him. 

“And how are things with His Majesty?”

Vasya sighed deeply. “I am not talking to the right Majesty, am I?

Mark could neither deny it nor admit it, so he just continued petting and staring at the kitten.

“He is scared, Mark. Scared of himself and of His Husband.” Vasya scratched the kitten’s head and neck with his fingertip. “And now he knows it.”

“He must get over his fear or he will lose Nikolaj’s favour.”

“I agree. And that would be such a shame. He’s a most marvellous Consort.”

“Kind too,” he said, when he really wanted to tell Vasya how magnanimous he was. He had forgiven him, after all, and he hadn’t been kind to him at all at first. “But you are riding together this afternoon, right?”

“Yes.” Vasya sighed. “I thought it was tough getting the shy ones out of their shells but this… this is a challenge.” He suddenly grinned. “I wonder if you could convince His Majesty to let His Majesty join Grisha in his biannual training expedition for his Special Unit. Maybe that could help him understand how strong he is.”

Mark grimaced. “I doubt that can ever happen. Even from the beginning, Nikolaj had ordered everyone to keep an eye on him and make sure he was in good health. Do you honestly think that now he would allow His Most Precious to go away for six weeks to go climbing and finding and cooking his own food, while going after bears and wolves for fun?”

“You forgot the standing under cold waterfalls every morning.” Vasya grinned. “But even that is a lot of fun! I don’t know why people complain about it. There is nothing more invigorating that feeling the cold all the way to your bones. It burns and it hurts, but as you move past that, then you realise that it was the idea that was frightening, not the act.”

Mark shook his head. “No, not for me.” He grinned. “But, I guess, if you like jumping into ice-cold rivers in the winter for fun, standing under a waterfall is nothing.”

“We only do that as part of having steam baths.”

“Yes, and why do you like that, is beyond me.” That was such an old-fashioned thing to do!

Vasya laughed. “Because it’s fun.”

“Ah, Vasya,” he grinned. “Your idea of fun is somewhat… interesting.”

“I also like reading books for fun. It’s not like I am completely odd.”

“No, you are just odd enough to be interesting.” Mark put the kitten down carefully, changed seats and hugged Vasya suddenly. “I am so glad you will be at Court finally. It is so full of boring people.”

Vasya made a noise. “I am not really looking forward to that. I was happier just watching them. Now I will have to talk to them.” He made a face. 

Mark was tempted to tickle him when the black kitten yawn and stretched and distracted him. “This one is awake,” he grinned as he reached for it. “Is it a he or a she?” he asked as the kitten tried hard to defend itself against his hand. “Does it have a name yet?” 

“Erm, I have no idea if it’s a he or a she. Grisha didn’t say. And no, they have no names yet. They will all be named when Grisha is back.” Vasya sighed. 

“Oh, no,” he smirked, “please don’t tell me that you have picked up His Majesty’s habit of sighing whenever you say your husband’s name.”

Vasya snorted. “No. But I am still worried,” he sighed again. “And I don’t know why I am feeling like this now. I was away from him for almost half a year and…” He huffed. “It is infuriating that I cannot figure it out.”

Mark grinned. Of course. He went back to the other seat, black kitten in hand and put it next to the white kitten that was still sleeping. “Well, I hope you don’t mind that, while you work, I will deal with some very official stuff. Do you have any food for them? I think they will need food the moment they are all awake. Yes, they will!”

“Mark, is everything alright?”

He grinned. “Yes, of course. This is my thinking time.”

“And what are you thinking of now?”

“Now? That I want to feed the kittens!” He smiled at Vasya. “And, how do I persuade Ekaterina that I want cats in our home? Should I move into my own place? Should we make the division between our areas of our house even clearer? How?”

“Hm, why not teach the dogs to live with the cats?”

“All thirty of them?”

“Ah, yes. You do have a lot of dogs in your house. And they are all so tiny.” He sounded like he disapproved of their smallness.

“You know,” Mark told him, “you could come live with us while you wait for Grisha to return.”

“A kind offer, but if everything goes according to plan, they will be leaving Ustvela in four days, and at the rate we are moving? I suspect he will meet us within the next two weeks at the most.”

“Yes, you are probably right.” 

Loud mewling from the basket alerted him that the other two kittens were awake.

Vasya gave him another bun with meat. 

“Thank you, Cousin. When you have finished with making the list of tasks of my intelligence office, maybe you can run it through me?”

“Of course.” 

Mark grinned. “Has it occurred to you that you are worried because this is the first time Grisha actually leaves the Empire? Or, the first time he leaves the office in years, for that matter? The Reds have not seen action since before I became their commander, and the last time he was in combat, he was with you. Is that why you are worried?”

Vasya looked at him as if struck.

He snorted. Clever people sometimes missed the obvious. “Now you believe me that this is really my thinking time?” he told him smugly. Ah, kittens! They were so good for giving him peace of mind. Perhaps he should keep cats in his office. And he had to give a title to the Regimental Cats. He could name them all Cadet Cats! Private Cats? Comrade Cats? 

&*&*

Maxim looked at the building. “I’m not sure about this.”

“You will check the Valentinois books, I will check the Ustvelan one,” Evgeni reassured him. He smiled. “Isn’t it wonderful that they have a public library? Can you imagine if we had to break into the Royal Library in order to find more information about Svjetlski castle?”

“That might have been more fun.”

“And time-consumming. This will be quicker.” He hit Maxim on the back. “Come on.” He took one more look at the graceful, tall building and crossed the large square in front of it, Maxim following behind him. 

This was something that he could do; check books for information! 

He went up the large steps and opened slowly the heavy wooden doors. He smiled at the sight. The façade hid the interior well; after a reception room, there was only one large open space divided in two floors, its walls covered from top to bottom with books, and a series of tables in the middle.

A man in a plain livery approached them from behind a large wooden, long desk where several people in the same costume worked. “How may I help you?” he asked in Ustvelan.

“We would like to consult the library for some books on art and architecture,” he replied. He opened the folder he was carrying and showed the man drawings of various old Ustvelan castles. “My employer wants to build a house like these castles, but these drawings do not show how they are inside.” He sighed in a put-upon manner. “He wants it to be as close to the old castles as possible.”

The man nodded. “I see. Follow me. Let me inform you on the rules of the library. No book is to be taken out of the building, and no talking is allowed. You may sit at any empty seats you find.”

“Thank you.”

He led them towards the right. “This is the literature section, this is history, this is art. Here is the section on our country,” he told them proudly. “On the other side you will find natural sciences, geography, mathematics, geometry, and architecture. In my opinion, you should start from the section on our land.” He smiled at them. “And if you need any help, you saw the librarians’ desk at the entrance. And remember, we close at three.”

“Thank you.”

Maxim nodded and gave the man a smile that made him blush. 

Evgeni was impressed. “If we need to stay past three, you might be able to arrange it?” he whispered, grinning.

“Maybe?” Maxim mouthed. “Why don’t you check the Ustvela section, and I will look at architecture? Where is architecture?”

Evgeni pointed to the other wall. “There, at the far end, next to it is geometry, them maths, geography and at near the entrance is the natural sciences section.”

Maxim nodded. “Third table from the end is empty. Should we sit there?”

He nodded. “See you soon,” he said as he started looking at the books while Maxim went to the other wall. 

He was certain that they would be able to find something until three.

&*&*

Count Soshtre praised his cook as the servants brought dish after dish and placed them at the table. 

Grigori nodded appreciatively as he heard him. At least he’d had the good sense to bring everything at once, but then again, it was just the two of them having lunch. The day before, Duke Bjeliovic-Kontoff had thought it wise to invite two more counts and their secretaries, as well as one general. They all complained about Francis, yet none was ready to oppose him over a ‘little domestic drama’.

When the last of the servants left and closed the door behind him, the Count’s expression fell. “It’s all a mess,” he muttered. “But why are you interested in our own, little domestic mess?”

“His Majesty considers Prince Anton a friend and he is worried about him.”

The Count grinned. “The Consort? Ah, now it does make sense. His Highness did spend a lot of time with His Majesty, outside the palace!”

Grigori smiled. Vasya had briefed him on that. “So, how is His Highness? I haven’t been able to hear anything apart from ‘he is unwell’, and His Majesty will not be pleased to hear that.”

“He is well, but despondent, as you would expect a young man to be when finding himself a prisoner of his own father just days before his wedding.”

“Yes, I can believe that. His Majesty will protest formally in the following days, but, between us, He would much rather mediate between Father and Son and help them reconcile. Do you think that this is possible? A reconciliation?”

The Count shrugged. “As I had told your husband when he was here, who knows what our Most Cunning Majesty is thinking? He was very… angry is not the right word. He was furious with his son; he even struck him in public.”

Grigori raised both eyebrows in surprise. That was excessive, especially for a man like Francis who had a reputation as a man whom nothing could shake, and who revealed nothing. “But he has to reconcile with him eventually. He has no other children, or any nephews.”

“No, but he is still an active, vigorous man. I would not be surprised if he were considering divorcing his Queen and getting married again. Prince’s Anton’s intended is considered to be the most likely candidate for this role. By the time The Queen’s relatives at Valentin hear of her misfortune, Francis already will have her locked somewhere – or worse.”

“And wouldn’t anyone here support her, and her son?”

“There are those who would, but why risk Our King’s displeasure? Perhaps….” The Count slid on the three seats that were between them and sat next to him. “Perhaps, if anything were to happen to His Majesty, they would support her and the Prince against the claim of Prince Karash, who, as you know, is His Majesty’s third cousin and the only other descendant of our Great King Ludovik, and the only real claimant to the throne. I don’t think anyone would want to support a descendant of Otto the Mad, even though he too has a claim to the throne. But while the King lives? I doubt anyone will do anything.”

He frowned for a moment. Duke Bjeliovic-Kontoff had also mentioned that Prince Karash was buying support among the nobles, hosting lavish banquets and offering rich presents to all who went to see him. Prince Grypiewich had also started throwing his money around, but with little success, as it seemed. 

Francis would not reconcile with his heir, he realized. No, he would remarry and try to continue his line through a new son, but if it came to that, he would rather see his cousin on the throne than Anton. 

“Our King appears noble, but at his heart, he is like a wolf,” the Count continued in the same murmur. “And, as you know, a pack of wolves only has one leader. Our King does not abide dissent.”

“So, Our Majesty will have no choice but to protest?”

“And have his protest fall to deaf ears.”

He looked down at the bowl of soup in front of him that must have gone cold. “His Majesty will not like this,” he said. 

The Count slid back to his seat and started eating. “But what can he do about it?”

Grigori looked at him. “Nothing. Your little domestic mess will continue being your domestic mess.” 

“It is a shame,” the Count whispered. “Anton, he’s not as cunning as his father, but he’s not stupid. Karash is an idiot who thinks he is smart, and Grypiewich is a smart man from a stupid family. Trust me on this, the moment Our King has his new heir, they will both find themselves imprisoned or worse.”

“A shame, indeed,” he agreed and tried the soup. It was still somewhat warm, and it had a very pleasant texture and flavour. “Oh, sorrel and potatoes? The praises you heaped on your Cook are well-deserved, and please give him mine. Would it be too forward if I asked for the recipe?”

Count Soshtre laughed loudly. “You sound just like your husband. Do you want to have tea in the kitchen, like he did when he talked to my Cook?”

“Yes, thank you, that would be wonderful. That way, I can offer him my thanks personally. You do have coffee, right? I find myself liking its flavour.”

“Then, coffee you shall have.”

“Thank you.”

&*&*

“Vasily, Vasya,” Elik asked Vasily the moment the carriage door closed. “Are you afraid of anything?” He had been thinking about his fears all night and throughout the day, and he could not figure out how he could get over them. 

Vasily smiled at him. “Of course. I am afraid of anything happening to Grisha, and leaving Grisha alone.”

Why had he expected a different answer? Elik let himself show his curiosity. “Yet, you let him go to Ustvela.”

“Didn’t we have this discussion days ago?” Vasily told him in a tone that conveyed clearly that didn’t want to discuss this again.

“Yes, and we will not have the same discussion. I just want to understand, how can you get over your fear and … You see, I was thinking. I considered myself unafraid, but I am scared. I am scared that I will go back to Ivanhof and people will be cruel, that Nikolaj will stop loving me, and that…” he sighed, “he will be cruel to me again. How can I trust him when he’s betrayed me in the past? And how can I be his equal when he treats me like a thing?”

Vasily stared at him blankly. 

“Can I really just… I don’t… I…” He looked at Vasily. “Hug?”

Vasily continued staring at him, but this time his expression was considerate.

“I…” he wanted to be told that everything would be fine. He really wanted Vasily to be this great witch who’d solve his problems with a spell, or…

Vasily opened his arms and Elik went to him. He closed his eyes as he felt Vasily’s chest rise and fall very slowly and Vasily held him loosely. His arms were comforting in a different way than his husband’s, he realized. Nikolaj always held him tightly, and rubbed his back. He was at home in Nikolaj’s arms, and he felt accepted and treasured, yet he also felt small and in need of protection. In Vasily’s arms, he didn’t feel like that. He just felt like he could rest and… It was just like when he was back home, and they listened tales in the mid of winter, under thick blankets and huddled close for added warmth. “It’s been years since I had a friend like you,” he whispered.

“Hm?”

“Someone who just wants to be my friend. Not since my comrades at my cavalry squadron. They expected me to have their back, and I had theirs, but they didn’t want anything from me. For all of us, it was enough that we were together.” He smiled. “We had fun.” He shifted and Vasily let him go immediately. He put his legs up on the seat, and made himself comfortable. “I miss them, but Grigori is right; I will do them justice if I live for them. That said,” he took a deep breath, “I think I would like it very much if we called them next month. I don’t think I can go to the Shrine of Ancestral Honour and give thanks without them knowing that they are not forgotten.”

“Then, we will do that,” Vasily smiled at him encouragingly. 

“So, how did you get over your fears?”

“I haven’t. I have acknowledged them, and I live with them.” He looked at him seriously. “If Grisha died doing his duty, first, I would feel proud of him, because there is no greater glory than dying for our country, and then I would be heartbroken. I too want to die in a way that will make Grisha proud of me. Honestly, though? I would rather not think of that. If it happens, it happens, but until it happens, I will cherish the time we have together.”

Elik smiled. They were more than devoted to each other; they were obsessed. But why did he find it so strange, when he was so crazily in love with Nikolaj that his body ached when Nikolaj was away? 

“How nice it would be if witches really existed,” Vasily suddenly said with a strange expression. “You could ask for a potion, and your fears could vanish once you drunk it. Instead, all we can do is remind ourselves that we must live with our fears, and stop worrying, or else we will get nothing done.”

Elik froze. He’d had that same thought moments ago, yet he’d asked for a hug instead of telling himself to… “Vasily, how do you live with your fears?”

Vasily smiled. “I first write things down and ask myself. Why am I afraid? Is it because of something that happened? Is it because of something that I expect? How high is the probability of what I expect to happen? If the fear is still there, even after everything reveals that it is fear of an unlikely event, then I accept it, and I tell myself, ‘Grisha would say, fear won’t help me get my work done’. That usually helps me focus. But if it doesn’t work?” He grinned. “At home, I go for a long walk. Here, I play with the kittens.”

“I’m surprised you like them.”

“They are Grisha’s.”

Of course. He smiled. “So, do you think I should make lists?”

“Each person finds their own way, but making lists can’t hurt.”

Elik was curious. “Tell me, what would Grisha tell me to do?”

Vasily laughed. “I think he’d say that your problem is that you worry too much, but instead of telling you what to do, he’d probably take you for a walk, or make you exercise until you dropped from exhaustion and then made you exercise some more.”

“Really?”

“Really. He says, when you push your body past its limits, then you realise how strong you are.”

“So, I could exercise myself to stop being afraid?”

“I don’t think that is how it works, but by seeing how strong you are, you can gain strength to move past your fears. You need to find your own way. If lists and exercise can’t help, we’ll think of something else.”

“Hm… Maybe I should do both. Do you think that maybe I could ride with Oleg tomorrow after lunch?”

“Why are you asking my permission?”

Elik froze. He hadn’t even realized he had done it. 

“Say that you will go riding tomorrow afternoon with Oleg, so I can make sure you are covered. Come on, say it.”

“I don’t like saying it. It sounds like an order, but you are my friend.”

“I am also your aide and in charge of your security, and I am proud to be in charge of protecting you. Don’t deny me the chance to do my duty.”

“Then…. Tomorrow I will go riding with Oleg.”

Vasily nodded, looking pleased. “Thank you for informing me. I will make all the necessary arrangements.”

Elik sighed. “Honestly, Vasya, I think you need to make a list of all the things I do wrong, and then I will give you permission to pinch me when you see me doing them.”

“That will not be necessary. Next time you want to do something, why don’t you think first, how would I tell this to my friend? It’s that simple.”

Elik smiled. This was so much better than Lady Ekaterina’s advice that he could just order everyone because he was their Empress. He was not used to ordering, and he did not want to grow used to it. He much preferred telling things to his friends.


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after a short break because it was the winter solstice and the muses wanted to talk (although I might need to go back and edit the story), it's back to this one.
> 
> takes place in the same day as the previous chapter, but since the tone is different, I decided to split it in two parts

Nikolaj rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Anything else?”

“Yes. Major Kamenski requests permission for the Quhjani to perform the funeral rites in their ancestral manner.”

Nikolaj nodded. “Of course.” 

“Thank you.” His aide saluted him and left the tent. 

He closed his eyes. Loss of life was inevitable in war, but he found the Quhjani cavalry a more valuable asset than he’d expected. They were magnificent horsemen and, as usual, his thoughts turned to Luck. It was his luck that they had had such a stupid commander at Kiskun. He closed his eyes, thinking of that battle. 

“Your Majesty?”

“Enter.”

“Major Kamenski requests your presence. As King and Commander…” 

“Of course,” he said, cutting him off, realising his mistake immediately. For the Bosilik, attending the funeral of people not belonging to one’s immediate family was bad luck, but since at Quhjan did things differently, and he was their King, he had to do things as they did, the way he’d done during the last days. He stood up, checking the time. How fast had it passed? He was certain that he’d only kept his eyes closed for five minutes, not an hour. “Next time, We should not be reminded of Our duties by the Major.” 

“Of course, Sire.”

“Good.” He followed him out of the tent and they crossed the whole of the camp until they reached its outermost edge. 

The men saluted him as he approached, and it was with satisfaction that he saw that several of his own Bosilik men were there. A little further away, the Quhjani had dug a large hole. On one side, the bodies of the five dead cavalrymen were laid next to it, covered with black sheets. On the other, was the Major. He walked to its edge, next to him. 

The moment he was there, the Major gave him a piece of paper. He was not that surprised by that anymore. He just wished someone gave him the bloody songs in advance so he could learn the words at least. He really had to tell that to the Major, or write to his darling and ask for them. 

When he nodded, the Major started singing. It was an appropriately slow tune, and he joined in together with the others as some of the men started lowering the bodies of their fallen comrades in the pit. There were no meadows or blood in this one, just joy for dying for Motherland, and joining the ancestral spirits. 

Once the dead were placed down carefully, the men climbed out of the pit, and stood next to their comrades. The Major looked at him, and he looked back, curiously.

“You have to throw the first three handfuls of dirt,” the Major whispered. “You are Our King,” he told him with an air that clearly communicated that he thought him a cross between an idiot and a thoughtless person. 

Well, no one had told him! With a glare towards the Major, he knelt down, picked up some dirt and threw it in. Then he repeated his action two more times, and stood up, resisting the urge to wipe his hands immediately.

As the Major knelt and threw three more handfuls, the men started singing again, this time about the beauty of life, and the people left behind. The rhythm reminded him of travelling on a barge, slow and solemn. He started feeling weird. Bosilik did not mourn like that. Once a person died, they became an Honoured Ancestor, and that was that. They did not linger on loss. That was such bad luck. 

He shivered, as one after the other, the men knelt by the side and threw dirt in. It was so strange to see the shapes under the dark covers and think that last night, these men had drunk with him and toasted him. That this morning, they had ridden out in their horses, magnificent and brave, and they came back like this. That these men, who sang their farewells, could well be inside a pit the next day. 

He didn’t know what he was feeling, but he didn’t like it. “This is the first time I see dead people,” he whispered to the Major. 

The Major looked at him strangely. 

It was one thing to know in an abstract way that soldiers died for him and the glory of his Empire, and quite another to see it. He squared his shoulders. This was the burden he had brought upon his people, and he had to carry it too. He looked towards the other side, where the sea beckoned. “We need that port,” he continued in the same soft tone. “I don’t. Our land does. If I die here, but we gain the sea, I will die happy.”

The Major turned his gaze towards the dead. They were slowly covered by the dirt. “How beautiful is Mother land,” he started singing as soon as the previous song had finished. 

This one he knew! They had sung it at every town and village they had passed on their way to the New Territory of Oerestand, as more and more horsemen joined them at each stop, that, by the time they had crossed the borders, he knew it by heart. Nikolaj joined him. By the time that song had finished, everyone had thrown a bit of dirt on the grave. “Now what?”

“Now, we finish burying them, and letting them return to Motherland.” He nodded to the servants waiting at a small distance. 

“Then, if we are done, I would like a word,” he said. If this was going to become a common occurrence, which he knew it would, then, he really needed to know their mourning songs. 

“We are not done, but I am listening,” the Major told him politely. 

“We are not done? Now what?”

“Now, we eat and drink to honour them and sustain ourselves. Forward or fall,” he shouted, raising his hand up, fingers clenched in a fist. The other Quhjani mimicked him. 

Nikolaj nodded and raised his fist. The more he lived with them, the more certain he was. The Quhjani were their dark brothers. They must have been one nation once, as their common language testified. But whereas they had chosen to shy away from death, preferring the light, the Quhjani had chosen darkness. Each of their families had Honoured Ancestors that protected them. The Quhjani collectively had spirits that protected them. They offered incence; Quhjani offered blood. They never mentioned death, so they could enjoy life; the Quhjani reminded themselves of death, so they could enjoy life. But they were all warriors, brothers in arms separated by time. It was time they became one family again. 

He smiled when everyone stopped shouting. “You must teach me the laments, Major. We do not bury the dead like this at Bosilke.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” 

“I should also teach you the marches,” the Major said. “Out from the wheat field, we go. One, two, smile and go. The horseman looks back, as he goes. One, two, smile and go. Don’t you cry, girl, don’t you see? One, two, we laugh and go.”

Someone must have heard him and started singing what was clearly a march, and everyone else picked it up. 

“You sing a lot,” he told the Major, smiling. And his darling had taken his Elite Imperial Bosilik Guards and transformed them into a perfect Quhjani military choir. 

“We have to. If you can’t laugh and sing while you live, what are you doing with your life?” He grinned. “This was written for when we fought against Vilnia for Mjile, and took the town after a two-month siege. Back in the reign of your Honoured Father.” 

“I thought you liked to live peacefully.”

“Mjile was in Quhjani land and those snakes took it by force,” the Major replied with a grim smile. “What is ours, will always be so. So we say.”

“What is yours is now mine,” he said airily, amused by how proud they were. 

“Are you sure? We govern ourselves, even now,” the Major smirked. “Your law stops where our borders start.”

“Well, yes…” Nikolaj suddenly stopped and started laughing. “You know, Major, none of my Majors, or even my Generals, ever talked to me like that. I should have realised that when you swore at me. I like it,” he said, patting him on the back. 

He turned back towards the others and raised his arm. Immediately they fell silent. “From now on, you will be Our Special and Elite Imperial Horse Guards. And We grant you all the right to address me as freely as you have done so far.” He turned back to the Major. “You will teach me the songs I need to learn. How did this one go? Smile and go? I liked it.”

“So, whoever survives your war will join you at the Capital?”

“Yes. Is that a problem, Major?” He smiled at him. “You are the best horsemen I have seen in ten years. I want the rest of Our cavalry to learn your techniques and skills, but most importantly, I want to have people around me who are not afraid of me and speak to me the truth. Therefore, yes, I want you to join me. We can talk more of this when we survive the war, Major. So, try your best not to get killed, and I will do the same.”

The Major nodded. “Yes, Sir, Yes.”

“Good. So, what else do you sing after a funeral?”

&*&*

Maxim looked at the thick layer of foam on top of his beer. He suspected there was more foam than beer in his glass, but that was not a problem. It wasn’t like he was paying for it. Three words that had to be said about this mission: all expenses paid! 

No, his problem was quite different: if only he could find someone to share his bed. Valery had been renewing his acquaintance with a Royal Guard all day, and Maxim expected him to come back with some information, as well as a very satisfied grin. Carel was at the Thur-and-Foire Ambassador’s, continuing the tryst with his wife (and possibly getting information?), Sila was with the Major, having dinner at a palace or other, and Evgeni was with Thomas, doing exactly what Maxim should be doing. 

It wasn’t a lack of offers that was the problem. No, he didn’t know himself what was the problem. He’d already refused two very nice-looking young men, a tailor and a baker’s assistant. Perhaps he should have pursued that blushing librarian from the morning, but when they left the library, that man was nowhere to be seen. 

He took a sip and looked down mournfully, tracing the wood grains of the table with his finger. A day without fucking, was a day wasted. But what to do when no one seemed _just right_? He never had this problem before. Everyone used to be right! He shuddered. Oh, no, could this feeling be an indication that he wanted to _settle down_? He was too young for that!

Ah, how he wished the Captain was with them. He would figure out what was his problem. Or help him figure it out. The Captain was good at these things.

Someone suddenly sat down on the other side of the table. As it was common for people to share tables when the tavern was crowded, Maxim didn’t even look up, getting only the impression of a big guy. 

The man cleared his throat. “You are one of the men who were here with Count Berezin almost half a year ago, right?” he told him in Valentinois with almost no accent. “One of his Choir?”

“Yes,” he replied as he looked up. 

The man smiled at him. He was a big guy, indeed, tall and broad and with an interesting face. He would have been called handsome if his nose hadn’t been broken and his upper lip hadn’t been cut at some point in the past. His clothes were interesting too; they seemed of good quality, and well-made, but they were far from new. One of the sleeves even had a patch. Formerly rich tradesman fallen in hard times? His body and face were not those of a pampered man, though. Curious. 

Maxim wondered if the problem was that all the men who had approached him were young, smaller than him, and pretty, whereas what he wanted that night was someone big and interesting. He smiled back slowly, lowering his eyes to check the man’s body one more time, and raising his gaze to stare at him knowingly. 

“Do you want to finish your beer and then follow me, or follow me now?” The man said with a forwardness that Maxim appreciated greatly.

He stood up, leaving his glass on the table. There was more foam than beer anyway. With a smile, the man also got up and Maxim followed the man.

“Here will do,” he told him as they passed the first alley. “There’s an alcove a bit…”

“Oh, no,” the man said in a low grumble, “I have plans for you, pretty boy.”

Maxim laughed. He hadn’t been called that in ages. “Fine, I am in your hands. I just hope wherever you want to take us is not far. I hate waiting for my pleasure.”

“You’re an impatient one,” the man grinned. “We’ll have to see how we manage to get along. I am a very patient man, you see. I can wait and wait for the right opportunity.”

“Can you? No, if I had to wait, I’d be bored!”

The man laughed, but didn’t say another word as he led them through the maze of streets that was the poor area of Krzydzov, the area behind the taverns and the inns for the common folk. Maxim was fine with the quietness. Perhaps that weird feeling hadn’t left him yet completely. 

“Here we are,” he said as he led him into an inn. At the lower ground, people were all but fucking in the corners, and drinking and playing cards loudly at the tables. The man said something in Ustvelan to the barman, and led him up narrow steps to the upper floor. The noises of people fucking were louder there, mingling with the shouts of the gamblers below. 

The man opened a door and stood aside so that Maxim could enter.

Maxim did. It was a poor man’s room, with a narrow bed in a corner, the chamber pot visible underneath it, a chest for clothes, and a wash basin and jug on a chair. 

He turned around to say something about the size of the bed, and that maybe they should have stayed in the alley. The man had his hands raised, a thin cord between them. Maxim moved back as the man tried to wrap the rope around his throat. With a disgusted grimace, the man threw the rope down and simply attacked Maxim, using his hands to squeeze his throat painfully. 

For a moment, Maxim tried to pry the man’s hands off his throat by grabbing his wrists, but the man was bigger and stronger than him. What had been fun earlier, was no longer amusing. His eyes started watering.

The man grinned at his futile struggle to dislodge his hands. “This is for my brother, you fucker,” he growled.

Maxim stopped struggling. He wouldn’t die there, he told himself as he started growing dizzy. What could he use? He looked around frantically, as he suddenly remembered what the Captain had once told them. Their whole bodies were weapons. He was such an idiot, he thought as his lungs felt like they were burning. 

With a grin, the man tightened his hold and Maxim used his body. He hit the man on the groin with his knee as hard as he could. The man released him and pulled back groaning in pain. Maxim kicked him in the stomach as soon as the man moved away from him. His assailant folded himself in two and tried to rise, but Maxim punched him behind the head, first with the right, then with the left fist. When he fell down shuddering, Maxim jumped on him, immobilizing his arms with his knees, and continued pummeling his face and head until the man stopped twitching. 

Breathing hard, Maxim wrapped his hands around the man’s throat and strangled him. “Fucker,” he muttered, shocked at how hoarse his voice was. 

When the man stopped breathing, Maxim stood up. Who was his brother? What the fuck? He tried to take a few deep breaths, but that only made his chest ache. “Focus, Maxim, focus,” he whispered to himself.

He had no idea who the man was, nor who his brother was, but perhaps there was a clue in the room. There was nothing under the bedcovers or under the bed, so he opened the chest next. Just clothes. He looked down at himself. There were blood stains on his coat and his sleeves, and his hands were torn and bleeding. Maybe a change of clothes would be a good idea.

He washed his hands, took off his coat and torn stripes off his sleeves to wrap around his hands so he wouldn’t bleed on everything. That done, he rifled through the man’s clothes for a clean coat, feeling his fingers hurt as he moved them. Was that what soldiers who had fought meant, when they said they didn’t feel pain when they were hurt during battle, but only afterwards? Once he had started fighting back, he hadn’t felt a thing. 

As he searched for something to wear, he felt something hard at the bottom. He uncovered a satchel and lifted it out of the chest. It had a book inside, so he put it aside. It seemed that this only clue he would find in this room. Putting the only coat he had found over his own clothes, he slung the satchel’s strap over his shoulder and walked out. 

A blonde woman with very generous curves grinned at him, saying something in Ustvelan. She was standing outside the door next to the man’s room, a pipe in one hand. Lazy plumes of smoke half-covered her face. Behind her, he could see through the open door that her bed was unmade and a man was pulling on his shirt. 

He grinned at her, and shrugged. 

She laughed and said something else touching her throat with her free hand.

He made a gesture as if he’d been sucking cock, and she burst out laughing. 

He waved at her, still grinning madly, and fuck, his throat burned and his chest hurt, but he was alive and that fucker was dead, dead, dead. 

Maxim hurried out of the inn, and forced himself to walk back to Thomas’ palace as slowly as he could. Nothing to see here, his expression said, just ending a late night’s revelry. Nothing to see here, he continued repeating. Didn’t the Captain always say, “behave like everything is fine, and no one will notice you?”

What a shame that he couldn’t tell the Captain first what he’d done, but to the Major. The Major was their Captain’s husband, but he was not the same. 

&*&*

The moment he opened the door to His Excellency’s palace, Evgeni stopped him. “We have a situation, Sir.”

With a nod, he followed Evgeni to the kitchen, Sila behind him. 

The Guards were there, Maxim between Valery and Carel, gesturing with excitement. “And then I punched him like this,” he showed them how, “at the side of the head, or rather the back,” he whispered, touching the upper back side of his head, “and he fell down. Major,” he croaked as he stood up and saluted him. “You will never believe what happened.”

“I think you will find that I can believe a lot of things.” He looked at them. “I need something to drink. Linden tea for all us, what do you say to that? Maxim, can you tell me what happened too?”

Maxim started telling how he was trying to find someone to fuck at a tavern as he began preparing the tea. Was that really necessary? Who cared if Maxim wanted to settle down or not or … His poor Vasya; he had to deal with the growing-up pains of his wolf-cubs! And he was too kind to them. 

He grinned. It really was a good thing they did not serve at the same regiment. Between Vasya’s “you can tell me EVERYTHING” permissiveness, and his “Shut the Fuck Up and Get Shit Done” attitude, they would drive the men mad. 

“Sir?” Sila asked him.

“I’m listening, but I just thought that Vasya would have loved hearing this first-hand.”

The more Maxim continued as they all drank their linden tea, the more he realised that Vasya would hear it first-hand, after all. “Maxim, you were seen,” he told him seriously when Maxim ended his story.

“Eh?”

“How long will it take them to discover the body? I give it a few hours, half a day at the most.”

Maxim shivered. 

Fuck. Now Maxim was realising what he’d done, and the last of the energy that the fight had given him was leaving him. He took off his coat and covered Maxim. Fuck. Ideally, Maxim should leave at that moment, not wait until he was rested. “Fuck.”

Maxim looked at him. So did the other cubs. 

“Maxim, you should leave now,” he told them, while looking at Maxim, “But I don’t think that you can.”

“I can, Sir,” Maxim said in a hoarse whisper. He wondered if he would ever recover his voice. Some never did. And he’d stupidly let him talk for that long. Ah, how stupid of him! 

“Can you stand?”

Maxim tried and fell back on the chair immediately, Valery and Carel instantly moving to break his fall. 

“You haven’t killed before, have you?” 

“No. Sir.”

He sighed. “It’s too late to buy a carriage to bundle you in there as you leave, because you really need rest more than you need to leave. You did well, Maxim. We’ll figure out what to do in the morning. Perhaps you are lucky, and they won’t find…”

“Thomas has two carriages,” Evgeni cut him off. “Maybe….” Instead of continuing, he ran out of the kitchen. 

Grigori smiled slowly. That cub was brave, he looked at Carel, that one was impulsive, he glanced at Maxim, Valery and Sila he could trust them with his life, but that cub was interesting. “What’s in that book you brought?” he asked Maxim, as he made a note to himself to pay closer attention to Evgeni. 

Carel took it out of the satchel and gave it to him. 

He turned it around in his hands and carefully opened the two side clasps that held the book close. The cover opened smoothly, revealing not pages but ten drawers, all labelled, and two open compartments with bottles. On the inside of the cover was a human figure, with notes written around it. 

“What is this?” Maxim asked.

“Thomas says,” Evgeni told them from the door, “What is that?”

“This is the tool of the trade of a poisoner,” he told them as he turned it around so they could see it better. “I bet that on the labels are the names of the different poisons inside the drawers, and around the human figure, you will find notes on which areas of the body these poisons have an effect.”

“Oh, that is clever,” Sila said admiringly. 

He nodded. 

“But why? I…” Maxim frowned. “I don’t know any poisoners,” he managed and coughed.

“Drink your tea,” Grigori commanded him. “And stop speaking for a couple of days. You need to rest your voice. Write what you want to say. You may not know any, but he knew you.”

“He said he was doing this for his brother,” Valery said, “but most of us have not hurt anyone.” He glanced at Sila. “Prokop, Kornei, Bram, Andrik, Sergei, and we… Am I forgetting anyone?”

Sila shook his head. “No, wait, Mirko and Foka. We are the only ones who have taken part in one of His Majesty’s wars.”

Valery nodded. “The others have not fought or killed anyone.”

“And, in any case, none of our wars were with Ustvela,” Evgeni added. “Maxim, what did you think of his accent? Did you think he was from here?”

“He had to be. He spoke….”

“Write your fucking words,” Grigori shouted at Maxim, cutting him off. “Or you will lose your fucking voice.” He grimaced. “Fucking babies, you need to have everything explained to you?”

They shared a look. 

“Actually, Sir,” Sila told him diffidently, “The Captain always explains things to us.”

Because Vasya was a big baby, he thought and grinned. How he loved him for still being that caring, sweet boy who only saw good in the world, because the world had been good to him. Even when the world had turned shitty on them, Vasya had remained his usual, bright self. “He has spoiled you. I hope you appreciate that.”

“Yes, Sir, We do, Sir,” all but Maxim shouted. 

Maxim nodded as he finished writing. He handed his notebook to him. 

“Maxim writes that the man spoke in Ustvelan at the inn and no one looked at him strangely, as they did when Maxim spoke Valentinois at Valentin. So, he was from here. Probably.”

“Why would an Ustvelan poisoner want to kill Maxim in order to avenge his brother?” Valery suddenly grinned. “Maxim, whose heart did you break when we were last here?”

Maxim glared at him. He pointed at his notebook frantically, and Grigori gave it back to him.

They all watched him as he wrote and wrote and wrote, and Grigori couldn’t help smiling. Doing this had made Maxim pull away from the post-fight shock. But he still needed to leave as soon as they finished finding out everything that he knew, and go to Vasya with this new information. 

When he was done, he passed the notebook to Valery, he to Sila, he to Carel, and he to Evgeni. He waited patiently as they studied whatever Maxim had written carefully and either shrugged, shook their heads, or looked confused. After several moments of this, he finally got to see what Maxim had written. 

He raised an eyebrow. Maxim had not written much. _That’s who attacked me. He did not remind me of anyone (I usually fuck slender, young men, not big oafs, but I would remember if I had fucked anyone with similar features)_. But he had made a drawing, the face of his assailant taking almost all of the page, and his full-figure in a corner. And both were very good drawings. Anyone who saw it, would recognize the likeness of the man if they knew him. “Hm. Perhaps the question is, do you know of any poisoners in general that might want to hurt Maxim?”

Evgeni and Valery both nodded. “What if they wanted to hurt a Guard?” Valery asked.

“We know of a poisoner,” Evgeni said at the same time. 

“One at a time.”

Evgeni nodded towards Valery. “We usually go out in twos in public,” Valery said, “but today, Maxim was alone in the tavern. What if we were watched?”

Grigori smiled. “We have been watched. We are being watched. Why do you think we do everything openly and in broad daylight? And I bought more fucking artworks than we have space for in our house?” He would put everything up in the Regiment barracks, or somewhere, even though Mark had said they could keep whatever they didn’t need. As if he cared about drawings of castles and hills. 

Valery and Sila laughed. 

“Don’t forget the cameo,” Sila muttered. 

“Fuck, yes, I can’t forget that.” That was the only artwork Vasya really wanted. “Well, you mean that he only attacked Maxim because he was the only one he could attack?”

“Maybe?”

Maxim grimaced. “Fuck my luck,” he mouthed.

“But you killed him,” Carel said with awe. “That’s your Luck.”

“No, that was not luck,” he smiled. “That was good training and a fierce will to survive. You should be proud of what you did, Maxim.”

Maxim looked at him like he couldn’t believe him.

“I won’t say it again, Maxim,” he grinned. He’d already said it twice. He got up and poured him some more tea. “So, which poisoner do you know?”

For a moment, Evgeni looked awkward at being addressed directly, but then he recovered. “The one at Fladd, Sir. But we didn’t see him.”

“That’s a very wild leap of imagination,” he smirked.

“Yes, but what if that is so? He was the only poisoner we came across our travel. What if this man was his brother, and he… He saw an opportunity and he grabbed it?”

Maxim reached for his notebook again and started scribbling. 

“He said he was very patient and could wait and wait for the right opportunity,” Carel looked over Maxim’s shoulder and read out loud what he was writing.

“Hm. Maxim, you really need to go to Vasya as soon as possible, with your notebook, and tell him what you told us. There were a hundred of you at Fladd; someone must have seen that poisoner. They can see your drawing and tell us if the poisoner and your attacker looked similar, as it often happens with close family members. It is a wild hypothesis, but until we can come up with something better, let’s examine it.”

Maxim nodded, looking excited. 

“Go pack, Soldier.”

Maxim saluted him. This time, he managed to stand up on his own, and Grigori was pleased to see that he was only slightly shaking.

The moment he was out, he turned towards the others. “Evgeni, what about that carriage?”

“Thomas said that you can use the one with the Valentin emblem, if that will be better.”

“That is most kind of him.”

“He said, His Highness would be really cross with him, if he did not help His Majesty with everything.”

He grinned. “Still, if we do that, it will be too great a sign of Valentin co-operation. We have to use the other one, but we will need to borrow his coachman, or one of his servants who will be able to drive the coach back from the borders.”

“Sir?”

“Maxim has been under great duress today and he has never killed before, something that is always distressing. Sila, I want you to go with Maxim and make sure he is well. Make sure he gets rested, that he is warm, that he knows he did well, and if he needs to talk, make sure he fucking writes what he wants to say.”

Sila grinned. “Yes, Sir.”

“He should be fine within a couple of days, so when you reach our borders, you can switch to horses so you can ride faster, and let His Excellency’s coachman bring the carriage back to him.”

“Yes, Sir. Any personal messages for the Captain?”

He snorted. “No. But tell him that the baby eagle has fallen off the nest, with two vultures circling him, and that Papa Eagle will not help while Mama Eagle cannot help.”  
Sila raised an eyebrow and almost smirked. 

“Go pack your things, Sila,” he grinned. “And, Evgeni, if you could ask His Excellency for a couple of extra blankets for Maxim, I would be grateful.”

“Of course, Sir.”

He smiled at them. “So far, so good, Gentlemen. Let’s see what tomorrow will bring.” Everything was such a mess. He really hoped Vasya was having a better time than he did.


	56. Chapter 56

Elik stared at the ceiling. The faint light that was coming from between the window shutters was creating strange shadows that made the paintings there look even more bizarre and fantastical. As usual, his thoughts turned to his fears and his actions. 

Vasya had been right; he had been testing Nikolaj for years, trying to be obedient to him and then dictating terms, wanting and wanting and wanting. Perhaps he did want Nikolaj to be so angry with him that he would kill him. But that was in the past! 

When he thought about it, he still felt like he was lying down, the ground firm underneath him, and he was staring up at the bright, cloudless, blue sky. He felt at peace and he knew that, as long as he kept that feeling safe inside him, he would manage to live. For himself, for his friends, for his countries. 

He gasped with surprise at what he’d suddenly realised. Why was Nikolaj not in his list? Didn’t he claim to all and everyone who would listen – and often, to those who did not want to listen – that he loved Nikolaj? Because he did, he was certain of that. He had never felt himself come alive at a touch before Nikolaj. 

But he’d never felt himself be terrified before Nikolaj either. He’d never been hit by anyone before Nikolaj. He’d never been touched against his will before Nikolaj. He hadn’t had to teach himself to not mind being treated like a doll, letting people dress him and wash him and Nikolaj fuck him whenever he felt like it. He hadn’t had to learn how to please Nikolaj because Nikolaj had told him he would have him fucked by a whole regiment if he disobeyed. And even though those things were in the past, they still cast this long, long shadow under which he lived and usually tried not to think about.

What if he wrote to Him? 

He got up, grabbed his dressing gown and wrapped himself in it, realising as he did it that this was yet another habit he’d learned so as not to make Nikolaj angry. That was what Ladies did, and he was The First of all the Ladies in the land. That was what Nikolaj had wanted him to be after he decided that Elik was not going to be his bedslave any longer. 

Until Nikolaj had wanted him to be something else. 

He sighed. Was it strange that he was so confused about everything when his love competed with his fear and this other feeling that was sneaking its way through his heart? Resentment, was that it? That was the same emotion he had felt after the Winter Solstice Ball, when Nikolaj had disregarded all his wishes. 

While he was traveling, he had been certain that this would be fixed if he became more assertive, if he told Nikolaj more clearly what he wanted, but now? He wasn’t certain anymore. 

With a deep breath, he started writing. 

_Somewhere, 10th of Fire Month,_

_My Love, how are you? I am well, and I hope the same for you._

_Duke Okdranov arrived two days ago and we have started working on the draft of the military reforms. Well, His Grace mostly explained to me the thoughts and ideas behind it, and we have decided on a committee that will work further on specific points._

_I also have some ideas, and I will start discussing them with His Grace from today._

_This has become my routine: breakfast, departure, work, lunch, departure, time with V, dinner. By now, I have no idea where we are! We are traveling and traveling and each town looks so similar to the one before it._

_V is trying to teach me how to play cards properly._

_Husband, I asked him why he loves G and he gave me such a long list of reasons, I was impressed! He said that G makes him want to be a better person and today, it occurred to me, that you also make me want to be better. Or worthy of you. I am not sure which. Perhaps both._

_Seeing them at Jedlowa, and hearing V talk of G has made me understand what you meant about “one mind in two bodies.” This is the Bosilik concept of marriage between equals, isn’t it? Now that I have an example, it is easier for me to work with all my heart towards that._

He frowned. What did he want to tell His Husband really? 

He crossed out the letter, picked up a new piece of paper, and started again.

_Somewhere, 10th of Fire Month,_

_My Love, how are you? I am well, and I hope the same for you._

_Duke Okdranov arrived two days ago and we have started working on the draft of the military reforms. Well, His Grace mostly explained to me the thoughts and ideas behind it, and we have decided on a committee that will work further on specific points._

_I also have some ideas, and I will start discussing them with His Grace from today._

_This has become my routine: breakfast, departure, work, lunch, departure, more work, dinner. By now, I have no idea where we are! We are traveling and traveling and each town looks so similar to the one before it._

_I hope everything is going well at the front. You must be there by now. How strange to think that by the time you receive this, you may have fought your first battle already. I am offering incense at each place we stop for Your success, and ask Luck to be with you!_

_I love you so much._

_Your loving husband,_

_Your Elik_

He really wanted to write to Him that he wanted them to love each other like Vasya and Grisha one day, not like a conqueror who had decided that his favourite thing was clever enough to be put to work, and not like a slave who had been scared of his Master. That’s what they had been, and they were moving away from that, but…. how long would it take them to truly become equals? 

He pushed the window shutter aside, and let more light into the room. What had Vasya told him? That he had to trust in His Husband. Nikolaj had been mostly good to him. His anger was frightening and terrible, but short-lived. Usually, Nikolaj just treasured him, and he loved Nikolaj when he did it.

And what had Vasya said about perceptions? What if Nikolaj did see him as an equal, the way he’d claimed and repeated during their return trip? What if he let himself believe it was so? What if, all he had to work on was his perception of himself as a slave? Alexandre had realised he felt the mark of slavery on him from the first time they had a serious and honest discussion. 

What if he had to trust in himself? His new self, that had been forged out of his fears and his pain. The one that he’d found for a while, and then pushed aside as things changed and changed. His self who came from one country, belonged to another, and wanted both to become one. His self that could push things aside and take matters into his hands. Hadn’t he done that before, when he’d decided that his pleasure mattered, and he would have it, while he still had the equipment to enjoy himself? Hadn’t he done it at Krzydzov, when he’d decided that he would no longer be miserable, and since then he’d managed to deny his darkest thoughts to take a hold on him?

Why was he letting the past cast this shadow on his present? He would not. Not anymore. 

“I need to change my list,” he said to himself with a smile. If he added Nikolaj to the reasons he lived, he would make himself love his husband better. 

Ah, but maybe he could write something else to Nikolaj.

_p.s. Husband, I always found it easier to learn either from books, or by seeing how others do things. So, do not think me silly when I write that seeing V and G at Jedlowa, and hearing how V talks of his bond with his husband, has made me realise what you meant about “one mind in two bodies.” This is the Bosilik concept of marriage between equals, isn’t it? I understand now._

He changed and hurried downstairs to the kitchen, not surprised when he found Vasya chopping meat and fat into tiny pieces for the kittens. 

“Vasily, Vasya! Good morning. Hello,” he grinned as he poured himself some of the strong tea Vasya had made. “I figured out how to live with my fears,” he told him proudly. 

“Oh, that is wonderful news. How?”

“I told myself that they belong to the past, and I will not let the past cast a shadow over my present. It is there, it has made me, it has passed. I am Elik, and I have the best friends a man could have, a Husband who believes in me, and two countries that expect me to do my best. I will not betray them, none of them.”

Vasily smiled at him with even greater pride than before. 

He grinned. How he liked making Vasya happy. No, he liked making everyone happy. “I want Our Court to be the happiest ever, and Our Country to be called most fortunate. Oh, Vasya, I want everything to be better. Everything!”

Vasya grinned. “We must celebrate that you found your path! Let me feed the kittens, because they have been crying for their food from the moment they woke up, but when I am back, I will cook you breakfast. How do you feel about pancakes?”

“Pancakes would be great!” Pancakes made by Vasily! He still hadn’t tried that culinary wonder that everyone said was simply too marvellous for words! The day was getting better and better, and it hadn't even started! 

&*&*

Irina thanked the courier with a smile and then ran back into the house and her garden. As usual, her brother had written her, so she opened his letter first.

_7th of Fire Month_

_Dear Sister,_

_How are you? I hope you are well!_

_I am losing track of where we are and where we stop. Each town looks the same._

_We have all settled into a routine already. My mornings are dedicated to work, and every time we stop for lunch, I want nothing more than to go join the Guards and their Quhjani relatives, because they are having so much fun. Instead, I have to have lunch with the courtiers and try to find topics that are not work-related to discuss._

_Irina, I envy you that you are at home and you do not have to entertain anyone. I even envy you for becoming a Husband and so making your Wife the hostess._

_At least, every afternoon, Vasily teaches me how to play cards properly. He loses more often than he wins, though, making me wonder if he really is that good at playing. But he is good at hiding his cards, and that is what I am really trying to learn._

_So, that’s my life on this trip. If you have any ideas for topics of conversation among boring old nobles, please let me know of them!_

_I miss you so much!_

_Your loving brother,_

_Elik_

Irina grimaced. Why was his brother such a nagging wife? Nag, nag, nag! He was the Empress, why couldn’t he do as he liked? 

She decided to write to him first, so she could have all the rest of the day to enjoy or feel miserable over whatever the Major had written her. 

_Jedlowa, 10th of Fire Month,_

_Dear Brother,_

_How are you? I am well!_

_I am studying very diligently all my lessons, and I am taking care of our Estates. All is well, I am pleased to say._

_Eli, you will remember to send me the dogs when you are at Ivanhof, right? At least you remembered that I will be a Husband. That is good!_

_I am glad you are finding some time to relax with Count Lesnev._

Oh, how she envied him for that. 

_I would also like to learn how to play cards properly one day._

_I am afraid I have no ideas for suitable discussion topics for boring old nobles. Remember how Count Rasoulin, that mean old miser, forbade me to attend almost all court events during our trip? How could I know what boring nobles talk about? What did YOU talk about when you were having all those fancy dinners and lunches?_

Really, did she have to tell him everything? 

_I am looking forward to reading your news!_

_Your loving sister,_

_Irina_

Her brother could be so frustrating! 

She opened the Major’s letter next. Oh, what a lovely handwriting he had. She sighed. She had to make her handwriting better! 

She started reading but, when she read that he approved of Katya as her Official Friend, she stopped and returned to her letter to Eli.

_p.s. Katya Soltukof will be My Official Friend. Can you write a decree and make her so? Thank you!_

How wonderful! She would not have a maid-of-honour! She would have an Official Friend! 

She read on, bracing herself for the upsetting news that the Major wrote he had for her. And what news! Her brother needed her help! Well, of course he did! Eli was like a damsel in distress in plays, needing rescuing and reassurance and completely unaware of his own power (and charm, if she were honest – Eli could be most charming, when he wanted). And she would help him! 

She was the man of the Family. Well. No. She was the Woman of the Family, and that was even better! 

She grabbed the letter together with her latest work, and ran out of the house to find Katya. 

Katya’s mother did not even blink when she saw Irina standing at the entrance. “Katya is studying at the garden,” she told her with a smile. “Will you join us for lunch?”

“Maybe? It depends.”

“Well, if you want, there is space for you.”

“Thank you!” Irina smiled back and ran outside, finding Katya under the cherry trees, an open book on her lap, and her head turned up, staring at the sky. “Katya, Katya,” she shouted.

“Irina!” Katya stood up and ran to meet half-way. They hugged and, arms linked, went to sit under the shade. “What brings you here now? Our lesson is at four.”

“Katya, the Major wrote to me! Look!” She opened the letter and, side-by-side, they read it. 

“Official Friend? What does that mean?”

“That everyone will know you are my friend now,” she grinned. 

“Oh, I would like that.”

Hm, she had to tell Eli to make Olga her Official Friend too – if or when she found out that she wasn’t, she’d be very disappointed.

Katya blushed. “They think I am ‘an exceptional young lady full of good qualities’. Oh, Irina, do send him my regards, please! My most warm and heartfelt regards. To him and Major Grigori!”

“Of course, I will!”

“Irina,” Katya asked her a second later, “what does it mean that we are ‘the oldest of nobles in the whole of the Empire’? My Father will not like that at all. He thinks noble people are stupid.”

“I didn’t think of that,” she admitted. She’d only paid attention to the fact that the Major needed her help so they could help Eli! 

“Well, if we are nobles, then all nobles can’t be stupid,” Katya said after a few moments, “and my Father is wrong.”

“You are so right! Some nobles must be clever if we are nobles. And since it’s us, we are not going to be boring nobles either.”

“Yes, because we are not boring at all!” Katya grinned. “My Lady,” she said as she got up and made a deep bow.

“No, Ladies curtsy,” Irina said as she stood up and showed her how.

“Why?” 

Irina sat down. “I… I am not sure why.”

“I would rather bow than curtsy,” Katya told her as she sat next to her again. “If I have to bow at all! I do not like bowing.”

“I agree with you. Bowing is just as good, so I will do that from now on. I think we have to bow to His Majesty if he ever visits us again. Or if we go to Ivanhof.”

“I wonder if Father will make me bow to him….”

“Hm, I don’t know.”

“Maybe we can hide it from the Elders for a while?”

“Maybe. But I do need to talk to the Alexeyevs. What if they have something that can prove that Malk the Ever Fierce was a Great Duke so that Eli can convince the idiots in his court that he is noble?”

“Idiots,” Katya said with a grimace. “Your brother is too good for them.”

“I agree. Katya?”

“Yes?”

She opened her sketchbook and showed her what she had been working on. “I was naughty. I started working on Olga’s story without her permission. Do you think I should send a copy to the Major?”

“Oh, no, not before Olga agrees. That would be wrong, and wrong is worse than naughty.”

Hm, Katya was right. “But I would like to send him something. He wrote he was ‘delighted to receive my drawing’. See?”

Katya nodded. “Maybe we can make up our own story until Olga sends her permission?”

“Oh, what an excellent idea. Should it be a completely new story, or should we use Olga’s story as a base for our own?”

Katya thought about it for a few moments. “Completely new, I believe.”

“Great. What should we write?”

“Hm… Olga’s story was how they met at a fancy costume ball, right? So, we can’t write about that. Do you prefer a story where they meet or one where they are married? I like stories where people meet, but,” she blushed, “They are so happily married that maybe such a story would be good too.” 

“Hm.”

“I know, I know,” Katya shouted. “It is a short story about how one of the Majors can’t sleep because the other Major is away on a trip, so, he gets up in the middle of the night, starts making a pie, and then, just as the pie is done, and he’s missing his husband, the door opens, and guess who is there? What do you think?”

“And the story ends with them sharing the pie?”

Katya nodded with great excitement. “Yes!”

“Oh, and they must have dogs and kittens too, and the beginning would be the Major in their bed alone with all their pets.”

“Oh,” Katya sighed, “That would be so cute! And sweet! Oh, Irina, who is on the trip and who is waiting at home?”

“Maybe… Major Grigori is on a trip? Only because Major Vasily loves cooking.” And it would be so cute to draw him sleeping with cats and dogs! Although that would mean that the story wouldn’t have many drawings with Major Grigori.

Katya nodded. “Yes, you are right. It should be him that cooks.”

“And… maybe we can also write about Major Grigori coming back as fast as he can because he also misses his husband terribly?”

Katya nodded again. “I like that idea.”

“How wonderful! And maybe, he also buys him a gift?” 

Katya nodded with even greater excitement. They hugged each other for a moment, both grinning.

First, they would make up the plot of the story, then Irina would reply to the Major, then she would start searching everywhere for something to make those stupid nobles stop being mean to her brother! And, after dinner, she would do what she really wanted to do: she would draw!

&*&*

Maxim half-opened his eyes. 

Sila didn’t seem to have moved from his place next to him, and as he looked up, he found him staring down at him anxiously. He grinned. “H..”

Sila put his hand over Maxim’s mouth and shut him up. “If the Beast hears you spoke under my watch, we will both suffer.”

Maxim snorted, but gave Sila a nod. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and reached for his notebook.

_Why do you call him Beast? He is not that bad. In fact, last night he sounded just like the Captain. _He wrote quickly, showing his words to Sila as he put them down on paper.__

__

__

Sila huffed. “Because he is. A Beast."

_Surely you don’t believe in rumours, do you?_

“They are not rumours.” Sila smiled. “I have taken part in those trips. Twice.” 

Maxim stared at him shocked. Sila was one Of Them? One of The Most Elite Soldiers among All Soldiers in the Empire? 

Sila laughed. “It’s not that impressive.”

_What are you talking about? Everyone knows that only the two best men of each battalion can go on that trip. I never even tried my hardest to be that man, because I’m not that good. I’m average._

“No, you are not. You killed a man with your hands last night. That’s not average.” 

_I only managed that because I remembered what the Captain had said, that we always have weapons because our whole bodies are weapons. I’m not that great at fighting. I can hold my own, b_

Sila took his pencil off his hands. “You are good, Maxim. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here now.” Maxim shivered and Sila hugged him immediately. “I am glad you are here,” he whispered. “And you better get well soon, because I want to know who will be the next of your conquests. Hey, have you fucked a duke yet?”

Maxim grinned and nodded.

“Really?”

He nodded again. 

_You sly dog! Hmmm…. I know you have fucked a king, but what about an Emperor?”_

Maxim grinned again.

“Seriously?”

Ferdinand,” he whispered with delight.

“You didn’t!”

He laughed, even though his throat still hurt when he did that. _I SO did_.

"You were very busy at Sorain, I see,” Sila smiled, squeezing him for a moment. “Brother, is there a title you haven’t fucked yet?"

He thought about it. _An Elder of Quhjan. But I’d rather not. I don’t want to shock Our Young Lord. Sila?_

Yes?”

_How is it on those trips?_

Sila grinned. “It’s fun and horrible at the same time. It’s two weeks of traveling back and forth to a location where we pretend we are behind enemy lines without any friends except our brothers-in-arms, and no weapons except for a dagger. Some days, we are not even allowed that. When the Beast thinks we have learned enough, then we are allowed weapons, and we either hunt or train.”

_You really hunt bears?_

“We do,” Sila laughed. “And the Captain…” He laughed again. “We are not allowed to have any provisions with us, but the Captain has been making everyone carry dried onions and garlic heads secretly for years.”

Maxim guffawed. He could believe that the Captain could convince even men afraid of the Major to do his will. _Why?_

"For his bear meat stew, of course. He says, without garlic and onions, it just doesn’t taste right.” He grinned. 

_How does it taste?_

"Surprisingly tasty.” He smiled. “I wonder if the Major realised what the Captain had been doing all these years during the last trips, or if the men continued the tradition of cheating and bringing onions for the stew."

_Perhaps he knew. They share everything._

“Yes, you are right.” 

_Still, that doesn’t seem to justify the name Beast._

"It does. We just train and look for food and at the smallest mistake he shouts and swears at us and makes us do everything again and again, until we do it perfectly.”

_That doesn’t sound that bad._

“Try practicing how to throw someone off you in a frozen river while someone shouts at you non-stop and makes you do it again and again, and then we can discuss this.” He suddenly smiled. “The funny thing is, even though he shouts a lot, and I mean, a lot, he’s never struck anyone. I think he and the Captain are the only commanders who have never punished any of their men.”

Maxim nodded. _The trip sounds more like fun than torture._

“I guess… It’s torture when you are there, but so much fun when it is done. And the nights are fun. Once you set up camp and you are all warm, and you finally have food, you feel tired but happy.” He sighed a little. “I kind of miss not being eligible for the trip. I know it’s a great honour to be His Majesty’s Special Guard, and it is, but the two years I took part? Those trips were the best part of my year and if I hadn’t been chosen for the Choir, I’d be trying my best to be chosen again and again.”

 _The Major is for you what the Captain is for me, right?_ Someone like a father, only better. 

Sila looked at him strangely. “You are right.”

_You make me wish I was good enough for these trips. They sound like fun._

“Not everyone is good at the same things, Maxim,” Sila told him with authority, and making him feel like the three years that separated them were more than that. “You are good at getting people to open up to you and tell you things, and you are good at drawing! Yes, Evgeni found the drawings showing how Castle Svjetlski is on the inside, but he can’t draw shit. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have the plans now.”

That was true. He smiled, feeling better. _Why do you think the Major wants these plans?_

“I don’t know. Perhaps he wants to get baby eagle out of his cage?”

He grinned at Anton’s code name. That prince had been no eagle when he had met him. He was perhaps a young rooster, crowing loudly for the first time in his life. _Wouldn’t that be a cause of war?_

Sila nodded. “Who knows what he is thinking.”

_The Captain would have told us._

“Perhaps. Probably.” He shrugged. “Who knows? But even if he did get baby eagle out, the other birds are too scared of Papa Eagle to do anything. Wasn’t that your impression too?”

Maxim nodded. _Everyone seems more scared of Papa Eagle than usual._ He hadn’t realised it when they were first at Krzydzov when talking to people at taverns and coffee shops, or at their parties, but when they went to Deep Port or Fladd, the difference was obvious. The people of Krzydzov and Yastba had been reluctant to talk of Francis, although beer and wine loosened almost every tongue by the end of the night. And he wouldn’t think of how people talked of their king at Aedley! Poor Richard! Everyone thought him debauched, useless, and a waste of space, but after the Parliament’s Rebellion, everyone also preferred a king.

Sila sighed. “I don’t think we learned anything over this trip.”

“We did,” Maxim croaked and Sila glared at him. Sorry! He gestured and looked at him apologetically. _We learned things. That baby eagle has no friends that can help…_. He frowned.

“What?”

_The baby eagle’s friends that were at our parties? All the young noblemen. And the Guards._

“Probably also in prison, or worse, just like baby eagle.”

_Maxim sighed deeply. _Baby eagle was fun to be around. How could his father be so cruel?__

__

__

_"I heard one of the Generals who were at dinner yesterday say that Papa Eagle cannot forgive his son’s rebellion. Francis thinks a king should be firm and crush rebels, even when they are his own family. But… another of the guests said that what the king didn’t like is that Anton sided with us, and not with him in the matter of Oerestand.”_

“Hm.” _I am so glad my father is no king._

“Same here. My father has a pig farm.”

_Nice!_

"Nice for my brother, you mean. I wouldn’t be in the army, if Father had let me have a share.”

_“Sorry.”_

Sila shrugged. “That’s fine. I like my life. And your father?”

Maxim snorted. _No idea. I just know that if he were rich, he wouldn’t have abandoned my mother._

“What an ass!”

 _That’s fine. I’d rather have no father than an ass of a father._ His stomach suddenly protested at not being fed.

Sila laughed. “Time for lunch? Or, very late breakfast for you, since you slept all morning?”

"Yes…Oops.” _Please!_

"Bread and cheese buns, courtesy of the Beast,” Sila said as he started unwrapping them.

 _He really is like the Captain. Only with swear words!_ Maxim grinned. 

Sila laughed.

Ah, he really couldn’t believe what had happened to him! 

&*&*

__Prince Krzyzanowslavski himself came out of his office moments after he had received his letter of introduction, making Valery grin at him happily. He too had been tired of waiting and waiting in receptions rooms where only the main colour on the walls changed._ _

__He stood up and bowed at him._ _

__“No, no,” the Prince grinned as he took his arms and raised him from his bow. He was a spry man in his mid-fifties and he looked more scholarly than princely in his plain brown suit. “I will see no one else today,” he told the others who were waiting in the reception room. “You don’t have to be bored with us,” he turned to Valery, and Grigori gave him a tiny nod. “Why don’t you ask for some food in the kitchen?” he continued as he led Grigori out of the ground floor reception room, into the entrance hall, and from there, up the stairs. “Tea, coffee?” he asked as they walked up._ _

__“Coffee would be most welcome.”_ _

__He nodded to one of his servants and guided Grigori into a large room with large windows, much like Thomas’ private dining room, and from there, into a small room with windows that were as large as the doors and the rest of the walls were lined with cabinets. A large table was in the middle with several chairs around it, and, after making Grigori sit in one of them, the Prince pulled open the window curtains so that light flooded the room._ _

__“How is my dear friend?”_ _

__“He is well.”_ _

__“And finally decided to accept my gift? How wonderful! Let’s see.” He started opening the cabinets one after the other, showing the multiple drawers and books inside. He pulled down one of the books._ _

__“Oh, that is a set, right?”_ _

__“Yes,” the Prince grinned widely as he brought it over and opened the cover, revealing more drawers. “This contains casts made of ancient cameos recently discovered in the Estate of Duke Ferandino-Kuronin, outside the town of Astili,” he said as he pulled one of the drawers._ _

__He looked at them. They were truly exact copies, revealing the beauty of the originals in sharp detail._ _

__“My Husband would never forgive me if I made you break up one of your sets.”_ _

__“Why not have the whole set, then?” the Prince asked him, and there was nothing in his manner to suggest that his offer was anything but genuine._ _

__“We could never accept such a generous gift, Sir. Never.”_ _

__Smiling, the Prince closed the cover and put the book back in its place. “Enter,” he said after the soft knock on the door, still looking at the shelves curiously._ _

__A servant brought in a tray with a coffee pot, two cups, a small milk jug and three plates with two types of cakes and one of biscuits._ _

__“Thank you. Excellent.”_ _

__“Thank you,” Grigori said as well, waiting for the Prince to join him once the servant left them._ _

__Moments later, the Prince started bringing box after box on the table. “Start, start,” he told him, so Grigori did._ _

__He would miss coffee, he thought as he sipped._ _

__The Prince continued, until what seemed like a hundred boxes were laid out on the table and he opened them one by one while Grigori tried the biscuits. Oh, vanilla and butter. They went so well with coffee._ _

__“Why couldn’t our dear Count join you?”_ _

__So, Vasya had written him of all people his good news? “He just got a new post, and his duties do not allow him to leave His Majesty’s side.”_ _

__“He did? How wonderful! Please, convey to him my sincere congratulations.” He sat down, poured some coffee for himself and filled Grigori’s cup a second time. “I guess you are here because news of a certain domestic issue has reached His Majesty?”_ _

__He smiled and tried the cake. Vanilla and poppy seeds. How delicious. “No, I am here to accept your gift on behalf of my husband.” He snorted. “His Majesty would have been more than happy to know if there were something he could say, or do, to make King Francis forgive his son, but everyone I have spoken to, says that there is no such thing.”_ _

__The Prince nodded. “Our Majesty is…” He suddenly laughed. “Let us not hide behind polite words, and let us be as honest as if I were speaking with my dear friend, your husband, and you were speaking to your dear friend, a fellow enthusiast of ancient gems.”_ _

__Grigori nodded. “I will be honored if you showed me the same trust and honesty as you have shown my husband.”_ _

__“Thank you,” the Prince grinned. “It may be strange, but even though we only met in person almost six months ago for the first time, perhaps because we have been corresponding for years, he feels like a most dear friend, And,” he smiled happily, “I always liked how straightforward most Bosilik are.”_ _

__Grigori smiled. In his experience, people were either straightforward, or they weren’t. It had nothing to do with where they came from._ _

__“Yes,” he continued, “Francis is furious, and will not forgive his son anytime soon. If he had a spare, I dare say that Anton would be no more,” he sighed._ _

__“That is surely excessive.”_ _

__“Our young prince did rebel against his father and king.”_ _

__“He could disinherit him, and let him make his way into the world.”_ _

__The Prince snorted. “That would show leniency to a traitor. How can he do that?”_ _

__“It would show some paternal feelings.”_ _

__“Can kings have such feelings?” the Prince asked with a gleam in his eyes._ _

__Grigori smiled. That sounded like a question for Vasya, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the Prince had already asked it, and perhaps even had received a lengthy reply from his husband. “A king who has spares, or thinks his rule can last for many years, can afford to have no such feelings. Anyone else must have them. Not that spares or longevity are guarantees for the future.” Hadn’t his husband’s father thought that he had a spare, so he could cut off Vasya without a care? And didn’t George of Oerestand think that he had plenty of time ahead of him when he fathered his baby? Yet, Luck abandoned them both and proved their hopes false._ _

__The Prince looked at him with a satisfied expression. “Our King thinks he’s a young man still. Anton, he can….” A loud knock on the door stopped the Prince in mid-sentence. “Enter,” he said loudly._ _

__The doors opened, and King Francis walked in, accompanied by several of his guards._ _

__Grigori and the Prince stood up and bowed deeply immediately._ _

__“Rise,” King Francis told them._ _

__“Your Majesty,” said the Prince, “May I present you Count Lesnev, from Bosilke?”_ _

__King Francis nodded as Grigori bowed again. “You are related to Major Lesnev who accompanied His Imperial Majesty here a few months ago?”_ _

__“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said as he straightened his back. “He is my Husband.”_ _

__“And what brings you here?”_ _

__Grigori smiled at him pleasantly before smiling at the Prince. “A promise made, Sire.”_ _

__“Indeed,” the Prince smiled. “The Major, or should I say Count now?”_ _

__Grigori nodded._ _

__“He is a great admirer of gems, but furthermore, he is a connoisseur. It is so rare to find a fellow enthusiast with so much knowledge, so I offered him to have any of my gems, but he refused to do so before his husband agreed.”_ _

__Grigori nodded. “Yes, because we do everything together. So, since My Husband had already seen the gems, we decided I should come here and choose one for us.” He nodded towards the open boxes laid out on the table._ _

__“Cameos,” King Francis snorted as he approached them._ _

__“Yes, Sire.” Grigori removed his wedding ring carefully. “This is my husband’s favourite,” he said as he showed the agate set into the gold bezel first, letting him have a look at the clasped hands engraved there. “It is from Maati, as you can tell by the fine craftsmanship and, judging from the way the fingers are carved, my husband says it must be from the period when Maati’s power was at its highest. Perhaps even made during the reign of King Julius Taurus. Earlier they carved the fingers in a more linear manner, and later they also added inscriptions to the images.”_ _

__King Francis stared at him, raising one eyebrow._ _

__“He talks, I listen,” he grinned. “The setting is new, though, made two-hundred-and-fifty years ago. As you can see, it allows the bezel to swivel, revealing the seal on the other side.” He let the king have a long, good look at the Stanjinski crest that was engraved there, escutcheon with the crossed sword and battle axe supported by a lion and a horse rampant, all under a ducal crown. How stupid it all was. “But who cares about that, right?” he grinned as he turned the bezel around and put it back on his finger. “This is the symbol of our union, blessed by his closest relative, Mark,” he told him proudly, caressing the agate with his fingertip. Clasped hands; the Maati symbol of a married couple._ _

__“Yes, I can see that,” King Francis replied with a too polite smile._ _

__“Perhaps, you will do us the honour of choosing a cameo for us? As you can see, I am at a loss, as they are all so wonderfully wrought.”_ _

__The King walked to the table and studied the gems there. “This one,” he finally said._ _

__He looked at it. A red carnelian with a standing woman next to a wheel. She held a cornucopia in one hand, and a sword pointing downwards in the other. “Thank you, Sire. This will please him, I am certain.”_ _

__King Francis huffed for a moment. “We would not want to displease him either,” he said. “I hope you will join us for dinner? You too, Stanislas?”_ _

__“It will be my pleasure, Sire,” the Prince bowed slightly and Grigori bowed even more deeply._ _

__“Good. Gentlemen,” he nodded and turned around, walking out briskly._ _

__After the doors closed behind him, the Prince fell down on the chair with a heavy sigh. “That was close,” he told Grigori. “He likes to arrest people personally. Says he enjoys seeing their fear.” He gave him a tight smile. “He’d probably just deport you, but don’t be surprised if I go to my summer estates tonight right after dinner. If he doesn’t arrest me on the way out of the palace.”_ _

__“Maybe you should go before,” Grigori told him._ _

__“No, then he might arrest me for disobeying an order. Fuck.” He sighed again, looking at his gems. “What did you show him to make him change his mind?”_ _

__Grigori took off his ring again. “This,” he said as he turned the bezel around once more and showed it to the Prince._ _

__“Oh.” He looked impressed. “I still remember the days of the then Count Pavel Stanjinski as Bosilke’s Ambassador here. Crazy person,” he snorted, smiling with fondness. “So, from which one of the Stanjinskis does he descent?”_ _

__“He is Pavel’s eldest.”_ _

__“Oh,” he gasped. “That one? I thought he was a distant relative since his surname is Lesnev, when I saw the seal. Oh, I would never have guessed! Although,” he suddenly smiled, “he does resemble his mother. Quite a lot, now that I think of it. I should have known,” he grinned._ _

__“Indeed, he is _that_ one.” The better one, in his opinion. Sasha had proven an idiot. If only he could reconcile the two brothers one day. _ _

__The Prince laughed. “I wonder how long it will take His Majesty to figure out which Stanjinski he is.”_ _

__“I think he already knows. I did tell him that his closest relative Mark blessed our union.”_ _

__“Mark? Oh, I am slow today,” the Prince laughed. “It really would be a bad idea arresting you. One can arrest a count, but not the Chancellor’s cousin-in-law.”_ _

__Grigori nodded. That was the whole point of name dropping and showing off. He rubbed his eyes after putting his ring back on his finger. “I will also head back to Bosilke tomorrow. Did you see the gem he chose? Fortune, with her wheel and sword. This time I was lucky, and a wise man does not push his luck, even when he has a Chancellor behind him.”_ _

__The Prince put the cameo in its box. Then he looked at the table and chose two more._ _

__“I can’t accept these,” he said as the Prince gave them to him._ _

__“My dear,” he smiled at him, “This one is my pride and joy. You see how it is carved out of the sardonyx? The darkest layer forms the backdrop for the two standing warriors, their figures carved out of white, and their armour and weapons out of the upper, golden brown layer.” He looked at it with a smile. “I have no children, and if anything happens to me, which may happen, I don’t want this to become part of Francis’ collection. I would rather it went to my dearest friend who will appreciate it. And it would make a suitable gift for you two, don’t you think? The divine twins, the gods of war, one with the spear, and one with the scroll, because wars are not won by strength alone, but also by intelligence.”_ _

__Grigori realised that he couldn’t deny this gift. “Thank you.”_ _

__“And this one,” the Prince continued with a grin, “this is for good luck. Honestly!”_ _

__Grigori laughed as he saw the white, erect cock against the dark, almost black, background. “He had spoken of how the Phallus of Justice, threatening to fuck the Evildoers, over time became a symbol of strength, driving away misfortune. I never expected to see one of these with my own eyes.”_ _

__“Ah, fuck it,” the Prince muttered as he picked up a third cameo. “Have this one too. For Pavel’s son. Pavel taught me how to drink, you know!”_ _

__Another gift he couldn’t refuse, he thought to himself as he accepted it. Another sardonyx with a dark background on which a white half-horse, half-man beast was being ridden by a winged child. The beast’s arms were bound behind his back, but he didn’t seem to be complaining. “Another Maati work, right?”_ _

__“Indeed. Love taming passion.”_ _

__He smiled. “I accept this gladly.” Vasya would like this one as much as the one with the two warriors._ _

__The Prince stood up. “I will see you later, dear friend.”_ _

__He nodded. “And let us hope that Luck is with us not just tonight, but later too.”_ _

__“Indeed.”_ _

__Ah, it was a good thing Vasya was not there, or he would be so worried, he thought as he left the Prince’s palace. Hadn’t Vasya told him to stay out of Francis’ path? And he had tried so hard, meeting people through letters of introduction and waiting for hours in receptions halls, as if he was just a humble servant seeking his betters’ favour, and not an envoy on a mission from His Majesty. Going for coffee and buying prints and drawings of picturesque landscapes and villages and castles, so that the drawings showing Svjetlski Castle and its location on top of the small hill from different angles would not look out of place. He was just his husband’s husband, renewing acquaintances, buying things for their home, and getting a promised gift back. Nothing else!_ _

__How the fuck had this happened?_ _

__Fuck!_ _


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> takes place at the same day as the previous chapter 
> 
> Also? Violence! A lot of it!

_It would be nice if we stopped for dinner._

Sila stared at Maxim.

_I am hungry. And…_

Their carriage halted abruptly. 

Sila looked out of the window. 

“Robbers?”

“Worse. King’s Men.”

Maxim frowned. 

“I can shoot one, if you shoot another,” Sila told him, touching his pistol. “And then, we’ll see what we can do about the others.”

“Knives,” he whispered, pointing at himself. He was more comfortable with them than with firearms, and after what had happened to him at that inn, he decided that he would never, ever, ever be out without them. So what if his bed partners thought him weird from then on? He’d rather be weird than dead. 

Sila nodded at him. There was a knock on the carriage’s door and Sila opened it, smiling politely. “Yes?”

“You are under arrest.”

“For what?”

“For insulting King Francis.”

Maxim looked from behind Sila’s back. “Just four,” he whispered. “You take Six.”

Sila nodded. “I had no idea we did such a thing,” Sila replied as he stepped down. Looking over Maxim’s shoulder, Maxim had a clear view to the two riders to their right, but with his body behind Sila’s they could not see him grab two of his short knives. As Sila moved a little to the left, raising his pistol to shoot at the rider in front of him, Maxim threw two his blades, each finding a man in the neck, and while Sila shot the man in front of them, he let his third knife fly towards the rider at the far right. 

The horses reared and ran in a panic towards the capital, the dead men still on their backs. 

Sila grinned at him. “And you dare say you’re average.” He hugged him. “Brother, you’re such an idiot,” he laughed as he kissed him on the forehead.

He shrugged. He had always been good with knives, that was nothing special. 

Eduard, Thomas’ coachman, jumped down from his seat and looked at them surprised. “What are you?”

“We are His Majesty’s Special Guards,” Sila replied proudly. “And we really need to leave. Can you take the carriage back with two horses only?” He took out his purse and threw it at Eduard. “Does that cover the costs of the other two horses?”

Eduard stared at the coins inside and nodded, shocked. 

“Great. Maxim, let’s unharness them. If we are fast, we may be able to stop for dinner somewhere. Otherwise, I have more cheese buns!”

&*&*

Thomas squeezed Evgeni’s arm for a moment. 

“Count d’Heunnigcoeur, Ambassador of Valentin and his husband, Mr Bykanov,” the Master of Ceremonies shouted as they entered the reception room.

There was a silence for a few moments, and then a slowly rising murmur. Of course, everyone knew by then that they were married, but this was the first time that Evgeni was at the Royal Court as his husband. Having Carel following them as if Evgeni was a Bosilik noble probably made people even more curious, but what else could they do but have him with them? After what had happened with Maxim, no one had felt happy with the idea of leaving Carel behind at Thomas’ home, or alone to roam the streets of the capital. Since the Major would already have Valery as his escort, Carel had become theirs. 

“Everyone else was Lord and Lady, or Lord and Lord,” Evgeni whispered as they approached King Francis. 

He nodded, feeling a little pity for whomever had to figure how they would be announced. Their legal situation was confusing, and clearly, they had decided to announce them as if they were married morganatically. How annoying. 

“If I were Ustvelan, where marriage between men is allowed, then he would have said Count and Count. Since I am Valentinois and Valentin law does not permit that, this was the best they could come up with to acknowledge our marriage but also show that it is not exactly legitimate,” Thomas sighed. “I so hope our king rescinds his law on the way of brothers, so I can give you my title and my full name according to our law.”

Evgeni looked like he was about to say something, but they suddenly were in front of the King, and they bowed deeply.

“Ambassador,” King Francis smiled at him pleasantly, “How nice to see that you have settled down. And with an Imperial Guard.”

Thomas tried to figure out if there was an insult there or not. Not that he could do anything about it if there were one. “Indeed, Your Majesty.” He smiled at Evgeni. 

Since the King did not say anything else in the next second, he bowed again, and led Evgeni at the end of the line, after all the Ustvelan courtiers. 

Thomas grinned. “I hope you are ready for this bit of fun.”

“Excuse me?”

He stood at his designated place, and waited as Count and Countess Srodina came to stand behind them after being presented, followed by Count and Countess Richter.

“You must think that with a Bosilik there, you are also there,” Count Richter sneered for a moment.

“I don’t,” Count Srodina replied with a grin that said that, yes, he did. 

“Gentlemen,” Thomas told them, “you had agreed.”

They both glared at him. “It’s not fair,” they said at the same time, while Countess Srodina looked annoyed at her husband, and Countess Richter looked more than bored at his antics. 

Evgeni looked as the two started speaking fast, softly, and at the same time, all protesting.

“The Valentin ambassador has precedence at court functions because the Queen is a Valentin Princess Royal,” Countess Srodina told Evgeni quietly, grinning. 

“Whereas Our husbands think they should have it, because they are Imperial Representatives,” Countess Richter continued. 

“And even though they decided to be presented in their countries’ alphabetical order, Bosilke before Thur-and-Foir, they are still complaining,” Thomas smiled. “Perhaps if there is a different Queen,” he whispered, and felt his smile fall. 

The two countesses looked around furtively. “She has been unwell for a long time, hasn’t she?” Countess Richter muttered with pity in her voice.

Countess Srodina nodded. She opened her mouth. 

“Count Lesnev.”

The silence that followed the announcement was immediate and absolute. 

Thomas noticed that Count Srodina really wanted to speak, but couldn’t. Only when the Major stepped into the room and the murmurs started, did he open his mouth. “I thought he was avoiding the Court.”

Evgeni nodded. “He was made to come. By the King.”

“Fuck,” Count Richter said very softly. 

The two countesses looked more entranced by the Major, though, rather than what this invitation might mean. They had done the same thing the first time they were introduced to the Major. Both of them had looked at him with great interest. An interest shared by several of Francis’ courtiers. 

“I so love a man in a uniform,” Countess Richter whispered. 

“Uniforms do bring out their assets,” Countess Srodina smiled.

Thomas watched as the Major strode into the room proudly, Valery behind him. He really couldn’t argue with them. The Major did look good in his red uniform, even though to really appreciate that man, one had to see him shirtless. Or…! Seeing the Major wash in the river after they had spent the night by the forest a few days earlier had been… It was so hard pretending being blind for Evgeni’s sake when the Major had walked out of that river naked, his body wet and glistening…. He forced himself to stop thinking about the Major’s arms and thighs and chest and everything else. 

“I had never realized it before, but the full dress uniform of the Reds is just as attractive as that of His Majesty’s Special Guards,” he said appreciatively. 

Evgeni glanced at him, although most of his attention was still on the Major. He had finished bowing after being presented to King Francis and was now responding to something the King was telling him. “Hm.” 

“Genya,” Thomas whispered to him sweetly, “You’re not jealous, are you?”

The King walked towards the dining room, keeping the Major by his side as if he… “He is the guest of honour?” Evgeni asked Thomas.

He shrugged. “Sometimes, the King will do that as a sign of special favour. He did that with his Prime Minister, before he announced that he would be his Prime Minister.” Thomas raised his arm for Evgeni to take.

Evgeni took it. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said as they waited to move, “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not,” Evgeni replied in a slightly annoyed tone. 

“Genya, I love you, only you,” he said as they started to walk. “I’m just looking, and even you can admit that he is a handsome man worthy of being looked at.” 

Evgeni grinned. “He is, you are right, but he is also my Captain’s husband. Hearing you say it is like you saying you think my Mum is…” he blushed, “you know….”

He laughed. “Your Captain is not your father, though.”

“He kind of is,” Evgeni told him seriously. “And he isn’t. I can’t explain it, but he’s not just my Captain. He’s there for whatever we need, and he’s always looking out for us.”

“I see.” He wasn’t certain if he understood, but they had just spent six months of traveling and living together. Little wonder they had all grown a bit too attached to each other. “Should I be jealous?” he asked Evgeni seriously. 

He knew well how feelings of admiration and respect turned into those of love. He had seen it at school for the first time, when he’d seen school-mates of his fall for their teachers, but that had not been the only time. 

Evgeni looked at him with horror and hit him with his free hand. “What?” 

“It happens,” Countess Srodina giggled behind him. “Young man falls for older, more experienced man he admires. You should be jealous, dear Thomas.”

“But I already have an older, more experienced man,” Evgeni blushed deeply. 

“Am I a substitute for your Captain?” Thomas asked him.

Evgeni stared at him, looking like he wanted to run or cry or both. 

Fuck, he really needed to learn to think before opening his mouth when he was around Evgeni. Thomas swallowed hard, wondering if he’d managed to hurt Evgeni, and what would happen to him if his honorary in-laws found out. “It was a joke,” he said soothingly. 

“I... I don’t know,” Evgeni told him with a frown, frightening him. 

Could Evgeni really have been interested in him only because he wanted to be with the Captain and couldn’t? Fuck, why had he asked that question? Why couldn’t he be happy with what he had? It was all because of his stupid eyes. “I wish I were blind,” he sighed as they sat down.

“What do you mean?” Count Srodina asked him.

“If I hadn’t been looking, then Evgeni wouldn’t be jealous, and then I wouldn’t realise that I should be jealous of the Captain and that Evgeni wants him, not me.” He barely nodded in acknowledgment of the servant putting a bowl of soup in front of him. 

Countess Srodina shook her head. “I am so glad our marriage was arranged by our parents. I don’t think I could have survived this much drama! Love matches are horribly awkward.”

“I think marrying for love is the best thing in the world,” Evgeni told them proudly. “As for you,” he huffed, glaring at him. “I will say this for the first and last time. I do not want the Captain. I want you.” He turned towards Thomas, put his hands on either side of Thomas’ face and pulled him in for a kiss.

He was being publicly claimed! Thomas shivered as Evgeni plundered his mouth with his tongue and didn’t permit him any reaction other than unconditional surrender to whatever Evgeni wanted to do to him. 

He sighed and smiled at Evgeni when Evgeni let him go. “I believe you, Genya.”

“Good,” he huffed again. “You do that!”

He nodded, feeling chastised. “I’m sorry. I keep opening my stupid mouth and my stupid eyes…”

Evgeni kissed him again, obviously trying to shut him up. And it worked, until Countess Srodina gasped loudly.

They pulled apart, and Count Srodina gave a nod towards the high table, where King Francis was giving back his soup bowl, laughing, while the Major next to him looked clearly awkward.

The servant moved from behind him and removed his untouched soup. This was worse than usual, when everyone had to hurry to keep up with Francis’ eating habits. This time, he hadn’t even tried the food.

Moments later, the servants brought the next course, starting from the high table. Still laughing, King Francis cut half of his fish, and put it on the Major’s plate. 

“What the…” Count Richter said loudly. He was not the only one. King Francis had to raise his hand and gesture them into silence, so loudly they all failed to whisper. 

“A sign of truly Great Favour,” Count Srodina gasped. 

Thomas saw Evgeni frown. Like Evgeni, he too had heard how the King had tried arresting the Major just hours earlier. He reached for Evgeni’s hand and squeezed his fingers a little. “It is a sign of favour. Admittedly, not one we have seen since the Queen gave birth to Prince Anton, but still…”

Evgeni suddenly grinned. “Perhaps he too can’t resist a man in uniform.”

“Perhaps,” Thomas and both Richters said at the same time. 

Countess Richter looked at her husband. “Valery?” she asked with resignation.

“Maxim,” he replied, looking embarrassed. “Sila?”

“Carel,” she said, blushing.

They turned their eyes downwards, as if their food was the most interesting thing in the world. 

Thomas craned his head, and was surprised to see that Carel was red in the face. 

“See? Arranged marriages mean no drama,” Countess Srodina told them authoritatively. 

Thomas wanted to agree with her, but… he smiled at Evgeni. He preferred his sweet giant and their love match! “I’m sorry for hurting you,” he said as he raised Evgeni’s hand and kissed the back of his palm. “I didn’t think.”

Evgeni blushed a little. “I know. You do that. Not thinking, I mean.”

He felt even more reprimanded than earlier. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t help looking,” Evgeni continued even more softly. “I understand. And I agree with you, the Captain is admirable and his Husband is worthy of being looked at, but I don’t see them like that.”

Thomas sighed with relief. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“I see them and I want us to be like that,” Evgeni continued. “Devoted and committed to each other even after years of marriage. And when I see them alone, I see my Captain, who is always there for me, and now I see that his Husband, who was worthy of respect just for being his husband, is actually just as reliable as my Captain. They are my commanding officers, and I would gladly follow them into battle. That’s what I see.”

That made him smile. “Even though you are in uniform, I always manage to forget you are a military man. Forgive me.”

“I’d rather be just your husband,” Evgeni reddened again, “but since I am a soldier, I am proud to be serving under Lesnev. Either Lesnev.”

“Lucky the country that has such men,” he smiled again. “To the Bosilik army,” he raised his glass. Evgeni mimicked him with a pleased expression that showed that he really had been forgiven. 

The Srodinas raised theirs immediately. “To our men.”

“To men in Bosilik uniform,” said the Richters, grinning as they too joined in the toast.

The servant moved again and took his untouched fish. Ah, well, he would eat something when he got home. The main thing was that Evgeni understood that he didn’t mean it when he looked around, and he had forgiven him! 

How could he want anyone but his sweet, caring, and thoughtful giant? And how had he been so lucky that someone like Genya wanted him? 

He had to ask him how Bosilik established an altar to Luck, so he could put one up and thank her every morning for bringing Genya to his life. 

&*&*

Vasya stood up the moment he had finished eating. “Please, excuse me, I have a most horrible headache. If you allow it, I would like to retire now.”

“Yes, of course,” Elik told him.

Mark frowned. “Do you need anything?”

“No, just to lie down. Thank you.” He bowed slightly to Elik, nodded to the others and hurried out of the dining room. 

The Mayor looked on with concern. “Efemia,” he said quietly and his wife stood up as well. “With your permission, I would like to make sure His Excellency is well.”

Mark shrugged, so Elik nodded. 

“And he was in such a good mood this morning,” Elik said. Just like him! “I hope he feels better soon.” 

“I hope so too,” Mark said. 

Elik noticed that Duke Okdranov did not comment. So, even the men’s court had factions? And what was his role as Emperor-in-the-place-of-the-Emperor? Lady Ekaterina had tried to teach him that as Empress, he had to keep a balance between the factions, but he hadn’t managed that very well in the past. But that was in the past! Now he was different. 

If he spoke the truth, that he wanted Vasya to be well because Vasya was his friend, and he cared for him, then the Duke would become annoyed. So, he couldn’t say that. Perhaps it would be better to just drop the subject.

He turned towards the Mayor. “Mr Mayor, We would like to know more about your town. Especially its problems. Is there something We could do, to thank you for your hospitality?”

The Mayor looked delighted. 

Elik smiled at him warmly. Yes, that seemed to have made both Mark and the Duke happy, and if he found that there was something he could do for the town, then he too would be happy. 

&*&*

_10th of Fire Month,_

_My Most Wonderful and Precious Love,_

_I am well, and I hope the same for you._

_Darling…. I am not sure where to start._

_Yesterday morning, a reconnaissance mission of a small group of my Quhjani riders ended with them being attacked by an Oerestand cavalry unit doing their own reconnaissance. They fought bravely, and managed to kill almost all of the Oerestand riders, but five of them were brought back; they did not come back on their own._

_Major Kamenski reminded me that as King of Quhjan, I had to attend the burial and… My Love, I had never seen dead people before. It was so strange. I did not feel fear, or tainted by death, or that it was bad luck, as they say at home. That was strange in itself, but the strangest was looking at those men with whom I had shared drinks the night before, and know that we would never meet each other again._

_It all seemed so… final. Back home, we don’t go to other people’s funerals because that is bad luck. We go to those of family members, since their death makes them become Our Honoured Ancestors, but even then, we don’t see the dead, so as not to become polluted and bring Bad Luck to us. In the past, the Emperors of Bosilke were not even allowed to be at the funerals of their own family members, so great was the pollution considered. My Noble Mother was the first to attend the funeral of My Most Kind and Wise Father, and she made me go with her, but even then, the coffin was closed._

_Dead people are so still… not like statues or toys or painted figures are still. They are still and unsettling. But you know that already, don’t you?_

_Is that why you are not afraid of dying, and you kept telling me that death is an acceptable solution to problems? Because you’ve seen how dead people look? Because you’ve seen so many that you do not find them unsettling?_

_I’m trying to write that I was shocked and shaken, My Love, but also that, seeing them lying so very still made me realise how important Our work here is. We MUST get that port, My Love. We cannot let the sacrifice of such brave men go to waste._

_My Darling, My Sweet and Brave Love, promise me! If anything happens to me, and I fail, then this is the Work you will finish. Everything else can wait and be solved by whoever comes after us, but We must bequeath access to the sea and the prosperity it will bring to Our heirs and to everyone in the Empire who will live after us. Promise me, Darling._

_Forgive me, I cannot write anything else right now. I can’t get that image of those motionless men under those sheets being slowly covered by dirt out of my head. Forgive me, I need a drink. Or two._

_Yours forever and always,_

_Your Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

&*&*

Only when they were inside His Excellency’s palace, did Grigori let himself relax. He hated official dinners, and the only time he’d sat next to a King, it had been next to His Majesty, but he was nothing like King Francis. His Majesty was naturally affable and not conceited at all – he really was a well-bred, well-mannered, polite young man, who put everyone at ease. Francis was completely different. 

One look at the man and he’d understood why he had made Vasya feel uncomfortable. His smile almost never reached his eyes, and when it did, it was only when Francis smiled smugly or cruelly. Despite his polite conversation, when Grigori looked at him, he saw a thoroughly unpleasant man who lied and schemed all the time. Francis made his skin crawl. 

“Linden tea?”

The cubs nodded, and His Excellency did so as well. They followed him into the kitchen, and as Evgeni lit a lamp and some candles, the others sat around the table and watched him as he added wood to the stove and lit the fire. 

“You have made yourself at home,” His Excellency grinned as he took out a teapot from the shelf, and put a generous amount of linden tea in it.

He shrugged, deciding not to take that as an insult, as he could have, if he were feeling mean. 

“And you make better coffee than Jean. I will miss you when you leave,” His Excellency continued as he brought mugs out and placed them in front of everyone. 

Grigori chuckled. And now the man compared him to his manservant. He hoped he wouldn’t tell Evgeni that he would miss him because of how he made sure his clothes were in order. It seemed that His Excellency could be thoughtless of others in general, not just of Evgeni, but, as Vasya would say, that was probably because of his upbringing. It was easy to be thoughtless when everyone around you obeyed you, he’d tell him. 

“When are you leaving? Tomorrow?”

“Yes. We have overstayed our welcome.”

“But the King showed you great favour tonight at dinner,” he said. “Sharing his food with you.”

“As if that was a sign of favour,” he snorted. “Do you want to know what really happened?”

“Yes, Sir,” Valery and Carel said immediately, adding their voices to Evgeni’s “Please.” His Excellency nodded excitedly. 

He smiled, poured water into the pot, and turned around to face them. “He noticed that I was very reluctant to eat anything, so he told me that I looked as if I was afraid of poisoners working in his court. And then he shared everything from his plate, telling me that he wanted me to enjoy my meal.” He took a deep breath. There had been something in the way Francis had said that, as if he was telling a joke that only he was aware, that Grigori hadn’t liked at all. 

Evgeni frowned. “That does not look like a sign of great favour.”

“No, not at all. Why would he speak of poisoners?”

They all shared a look, and Grigori could bet that they were all thinking the same thing. Could it be related to what had happened the previous night, or was it just the usual fear of royals that someone would poison them?

His Excellency was the first to speak. “He rarely makes comments that have no meaning. The problem is, rarely do we know what he means by them when he makes them.”

“Perhaps it means nothing, and he just said it to upset you,” Carel said. 

“Perhaps.” He heard the water boil, and so he turned back, filled the pot and brought it to the table. 

They waited for a few minutes in silence as the tea brewed. 

“This is a nice way of relaxing at the end of the day,” his Excellency said suddenly. “I used to have a glass of red wine, but this is more… soothing. Yes, that’s the right word.”

He smiled. “Vasya and I started doing it several years ago, and haven’t stopped since.” The only reason they had started doing it was because the kitchens were the only space they could have some privacy when they lived in the barracks, since they were always empty after everyone went to bed. After they were promoted to lieutenants and had their own room, they had continued it because it had become a habit. 

How strange; he hadn’t thought of the time they had spent sleeping in the same room as his comrades in years. The times they had to sneak out of the dormitory so they could find some space to be alone, the nights they had spent sleeping side by side holding hands because there were another twenty men in the room, and they didn’t want to be _that_ couple that kept everyone up with their fucking, or simply because they were too tired to do anything else. How amusing now these times seemed, when back then he’d been mostly frustrated, while Vasya smiled and kept telling him how fun it all was and the only thing that mattered was that they were together. 

He realized that the cubs were looking at him fascinated, and he grinned, instead of telling them that it was rude of them to stare like that. Or ask them if they had never seen an old man lost in memories. He snorted. 

Evgeni raised his hand and he nodded at him. “Sir? I know this is a personal question, but… Do you ever argue with the Captain?”

Did the man want relationship advice from him? Why not ask Vasya when he saw him? Vasya would be more than happy to help. Only, he was here and Vasya was there, so he might as well reply while Evgeni was with his husband and they could work on their relationship. 

So, did they? “We disagree,” he smiled, “but we do not argue.” Vasya would probably say that it was because they loved each other greatly, and that was true. “We respect each other too much for that.” Arguing could lead to shouting and unpleasantness, and they refused to do that. 

His Excellency looked at him strangely, but Evgeni seemed like he was about to ask for a better explanation. And he couldn’t blame him; the poor man was married to someone with the ability to speak without thinking when he felt relaxed. Which was good, because a person ought to be relaxed with his friends and family, but at the same time, not so good, when his words were careless and could hurt others. 

“Look,” he told them. “A relationship is like a plant. Take roses; you not only have to plant them in the right location, but you need to make sure they get a lot of good stuff to grow. We put tea leaves and eggshells on the ground around them,” he grinned. “But they also need pruning and checking for insects and parasites. Roses don’t grow unless you take good care of them, nurturing them with the good and removing the bad. Relationships are like that.

“Arguments are among the bad things that can ruin them. They start from loud words and end in hurt feelings, so we are always careful not to allow them to grow. When we disagree, we discuss things and when we feel angry enough to argue, then we stop, and remind ourselves that words can hurt as much as weapons, so we must be careful with them, before we continue with our disagreement.” 

His Excellency looked ashamed of himself, while Evgeni sighed as if he heard something very sweet. He hadn’t said anything like that! He was simply saying the obvious! He finished his tea and stood up. “Gentlemen, I bid you good night.” 

Valery got up as well, and so did Carel. “Good night, Evgeni. Good night, Thomas, sixth count d’Heunnigcoeur.”

His Excellency groaned while Evgeni said goodnight. 

The space outside the kitchen was dimly lit, illuminated only by the light coming from tiny windows, but by the time he had walked to the staircase, his eyes had adjusted well. Touching lightly the rail, he started climbing up. 

“You have to stop that joke,” he told them as they were half-way up the stairs and Evgeni wouldn’t be able to hear them. 

“We will stop tomorrow,” Valery told him, his voice full of mischief.

He shook his head, grinning. Their teasing was not unlike that of siblings. “Fine, then.”

They laughed behind him. 

“Sir?” Valery asked him. 

“Yes?”

“I am glad we are going home. I did not like the way the king smiled.”

“I did not like it either.” Vasya hadn’t as well. “And I am also glad that we are leaving. Although, I will miss coffee. I should have bought a coffee grinder and as many beans as I could carry, instead of stupid art.” Neither of them cared much for landscapes. He’d rather have images of plants, and Vasya of ancient art, and they both preferred animal skins on the walls, anyway. They were nice to look at and kept their home warm. 

There was a strange silence behind him. He wondered if they had bought him one. “Perhaps we could leave a little later tomorrow, so I can do some last-minute shopping, after asking the Prince where he buys his beans. His coffee was by far the best I had these days. But don’t tell Evgeni that.”

“I am certain we can find coffee beans and grinders later,” Carel said. 

“Yes, they must sell them throughout Ustvela.”

He smiled. They probably had. “And if not, I am certain I can find them in the Capital once I start looking for them. If Vasya managed to find Selivid teapots, then I should be able to find coffee grinders and beans.” 

“Yes, good idea, Sir! Look for them in the Capital.”

He tried not to laugh at how obvious they were. “I will. Vanilla biscuits taste better with coffee, did you notice that? Orange-flavoured ones are better with tea, though. Hm.”

“You have a sweet tooth, Sir?” Carel asked him, and he could hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, yes.” He chuckled. “I am so lucky that I live with such a talented cook and baker. I wonder what kind of cake he can make with coffee.”

“And what does the Captain like?” 

“He likes tea. He makes excellent tea-flavoured creams and syrups.” He stepped on the corridor, grinning. “He likes cooking for me, basically,” he told them as he walked towards his room, making Valery and Carel laugh. But that was not what they were asking. Smiling, he turned towards them. “He likes anything, as long as it has been prepared with care and cooked well.”

“No favourite food?”

He stopped in front of his door. “During winter, he loves stews. Any type, as long as they are thick and hearty and served with fresh bread with butter. In the summer, he loves cold soups. Any kind, salty, sweet, acidic. As long as they are cold. He also likes small things that are delicate and time-consuming, like those Valentinois almond cookies, or dumplings.” He grinned. “Anything you make him, will be well-received because you made it, so don’t worry.”

“You won’t tell him, will you, Sir?” Valery asked as he walked to his room, that was right next to his. 

“No. That will be our secret.”

Carel sighed with relief as he walked past them, since his room was further down the corridor. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Good night, Gentlemen.”

“Good night, Sir,” they both said, making him smile. 

He opened the door and stepped inside. He felt the air move and, under the sound of opening doors and footsteps, he heard that of a dagger lowered. Immediately he squatted, twisted his body, and grabbed the back of his assailant’s leg, right below the knees, bringing him down with a thud and hearing the dagger fall with a clatter on the floor. 

“Sir?” Valery shouted as he ran into his room. 

“I’m fine.” He looked at the squirming man who trying to get up, so he punched him once on the face and made him fall back down. 

Valery crouched behind his attacker and grabbed his arms, pulling them behind his back, immobilizing him. Perhaps he had been a little too forceful, as the man grunted in pain. “No hurting our ‘friend’ yet,” he told him as Carel appeared at the door with a lit candle at that moment. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”

In the light they could see that the attacker had given up fighting and was just glaring at him balefully. As if he could do anything. Idiot. A very young idiot.

“Good idea, Carel, thank you. I hate tying knots in the dark. If he moves, headbutt him,” he told Valery as he stood up and went to his travel bag, kicking the dagger further away. 

“Yes, Sir,” Valery laughed. 

He took out several coiled ropes. “Carel, ask His Excellency if there is a place where we can ask our ‘friend’ here some questions without being heard.”

Carel put the candlestick on the table at the side of the room and ran out. 

He yawned. “Fuck, I should have made coffee,” he said as he returned to their ‘friend’. He knelt next to Valery and started tying the man’s wrists. “Once we have our ‘friend’ settled in our parlour, I will make some,” he told Valery. “For everyone. We are not leaving before I know all that I can from him.”

“Of course.”

He finished with the wrists, but Valery continued holding him. 

“He won’t go very far even if gets up and tries to run,” he smiled. 

“I don’t care. I’m not letting him go, before you tie him up like a sausage.”

He grinned. “I’m getting there. “I…” he started saying when His Excellency’s loud scream of horror from downstairs cut him off. 

The man flinched. 

Grigori frowned. Jean was the only person living in the palace, while the other servants came only during the day. Fuck. He hit the man on the back of the head as he stood up and went to tie his legs. 

“Sir?”

“I think Jean is dead.”

Valery also hit the man.

He groaned. “Fuck you, you pigs,” he told them in Ustvelan.

“Fuck you,” Grigori replied in his language, “you maggot-ridden, infested, pus-filed sack of meat.” 

The man shut up and stared at him as if he couldn’t believe his ears. Grigori smiled. Bright Empire curses always sounded better in other languages. 

“Sir,” Carel shouted from the staircase. 

“Yes?”

“There is the cellar, but Jean is there. Was there,” he said as he ran to the door. 

“I thought so.” As he was crouching, he grabbed the man and put him over his shoulder. “I am tempted to throw him off the stairs, but I can’t,” he growled. 

“Maybe later?” Carel asked him.

“Maybe,” he grinned as he followed him down. “How is His Excellency?”

“Devastated. Evgeni requests your permission to take care of him first and then join us.”

“Of course.” Carel ran down to convey the message to Evgeni. 

Valery made a low growl behind him. “If you won’t throw him off the stairs, may I?”

“Maybe.” He glared at the man. “Stupid shit.” He was tempted to start asking questions at that moment, but he really wanted some coffee first.

Twenty minutes later, everyone had had coffee, His Excellency was wrapped in a blanket and sitting at a corner, a notebook in his hands, and their ‘friend’ was tied to a chair, his dark eyes wide and with the gaze of a cornered animal. Fear made him look even younger than he was, and sweat had made his short, dark hair plastered to his head. 

Fear was good. It made men break more quickly. He checked his watch. “One forty-five a.m., 10th of Fire Month. Session conducted by G. L. Attending the session, E. B., V. K., C. U. and T. H. (secretary),” He turned to His Excellency, who was still noting down his words. “Thank you for doing this.”

His Excellency stared at him. He was still pale, but he looked determined to see this through. “He killed Jean, and I know I will not see justice for his murder here. So, I am more than happy to help you in any way I can, and…” He shuddered. “Thank you.”

He nodded. He looked at the man again as he rolled his sleeves up. “Name?” He switched to Ustvelan, as they had agreed he could do, even though Carel and Valery could not understand him. 

The man stared at him.

“I can call you pus-filled maggot, if you like.”

He continued to stare.

“Fine. Pus-filled maggot, you have two options here. Either you do the smart thing and you tell me what I want to know willingly and immediately, or you do the stupid thing and stay silent. If you do the stupid thing, I will get the answers out of you, but you will not like it. So, what do you say, will you be smart or stupid?”

The man didn’t reply. 

“Stupid, then.” He smiled. “Fine by me. Who sent you?”

Silence.

“Who sent you?”

The man stared. 

Instead of asking again, Grigori removed his dagger from his sheath and stabbed the man in the right palm with it. “Who sent you.”

When the man stopped screaming, Grigori pulled out his dagger. “Who sent you?” He asked again as he raised it over the same spot on the man’s left palm. 

“No one,” he cried. “I came to steal.”

Grigori stabbed him. “Wrong. Nothing was disturbed in my room,” he said over the screams. “Who sent you?”

The man continued crying. 

He removed the dagger and pointed it at a point above the right wrist. “Who sent you?”

“The King, the King,” he cried out. “Please, stop.”

So that was Francis’ joke; why bother with poisons when you have sent an assassin to wait for your victim? Why not let your victim enjoy his last meal and get him as drunk as you can, so he will be happy, relaxed, and ready for the slaughter? He snorted. As if that weak wine served at the royal table could get him drunk. 

“If you continue being smart, I will stop,” Grigori told him nicely. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Grigori stabbed him.

“I don’t know,” the man screamed, “I swear, I don’t know.”

“Who does?” He asked as he removed the dagger. 

“I don’t know.”

“Stupid,” Grigori said as he stabbed him at the same point over the left arm. “Let’s try again. Who knows?” He asked as he removed the dagger.

“My commanding officer.”

“Who is he?”

“Major Nyevi. Fifth Regiment.”

“Thank you.” 

He turned towards the Guards and His Excellency. “Does anyone know where this Nyevi lives?” he asked them in Valentinois, “Or do we still need Pus-filled maggot?”

“I could ask around, but not until tomorrow,” Valery replied. “Well, later today. This morning. After eight. Damn, this hour is always so confusing.”

“Yes, Valery, thank you,” he cut him off before Valery explained why this time always felt like it belonged in the previous day, and not the one it did. He turned towards Pus-filled maggot. “Where does Major Nyevi live?”

“On the third street behind Queen Izabella’s Square. Number twenty-seven,” he said immediately. “Please, let me go?” he sniffled.

Grigori snorted. 

“Oi, Mama,” the man sobbed. 

Grigori turned towards Thomas. “I have the answers I wanted from him. He is yours to do as you please, Your Excellency.”

His Excellency looked at the man sternly. “I want to pity him,” he said slowly, “but he killed Jean without a second thought. How can I deny Jean justice?” He turned towards Evgeni. “Zhenya, what do you think?”

He really was pronouncing ‘g’ as if it were the Valentinois ‘zh’, instead of the hard Bosilik ‘g’, mixing the Valentinois form of Evgeni’s name with the Bosilik one. He’d thought he’d misheard him the other night, but it seemed that His Excellency had found his own pet name for Evgeni. What a random thought to be having at that moment. He looked at Evgeni, smiling a little. 

Evgeni sighed. “He looks as young as I am, and so I want to pity him too, but,” his expression turned fierce, “he did kill Jean, and he tried to hurt the Major. If we let him go, he will turn us in immediately.”

“I won’t,” the man cried out in Valentinois. “My Major will kill me for failing to kill your Major. I will run, and never say anything to anyone. Please?” 

His Excellency and Evgeni looked at him. 

“Perhaps we can decide after we pay a visit to Major Nyevi?” he asked them. “This took far less than I thought it would, and I did have two cups of coffee. I am quite awake, and ready to meet this Major now,” he grinned.

“But you are being watched,” His Excellency told him. 

“I know.” He smiled at the cubs. “And who can tell me how many men are watching the palace at this hour, and from where?” 

Evgeni raised his hand a second before the others, making him grin. “Evgeni?”

“The man who pretends to be sleeping drunkenly outside the baker across the street, and the beggar outside the service entrance.” At His Excellency’s stunned look, Evgeni blushed. “There weren’t any beggars or drunken people sleeping there last time I was here, the same way that there aren’t any anywhere in this area. Because this is an area of palaces, and beggars and drunkards create a bad impression, so the law about loitering and disorderly conduct is enforced as strictly as at the area of the Royal Palace.” He looked embarrassed. “I hadn’t even thought of that, until you mentioned that were being watched, Sir.”

The other two nodded, looking just as ashamed of not having noticed earlier. 

His Excellency’s expression turned even more amazed. 

“You are learning, and that’s what matters,” he told Evgeni proudly, but making sure to also look at the other two. “Do you agree?” he asked them.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Pus-filled maggot, are they right?”

The man nodded, crying. It seemed like he couldn’t stop once he had started. 

He smiled. “Keep an eye on him, will you?” he told them as he hurried upstairs to the kitchen. After grabbing some linen towels, he went back down and picked up a bottle of wine. He showed it to Thomas, and he nodded, curious. 

“Since we cannot decide what to do with Pus-f...”

“Michal, my name is Michal,” the man whispered between sobs. 

“Michal,” Grigori smiled, “We can’t let you bleed to death until then, can we?” He washed the wounds with wine and then wrapped them using the linens. When he was done, he turned to the Guards. “Valery, Carel, do you want to go give our two friends a nice, friendly greeting?”

“You won’t kill them, will you?” His Excellency asked, horrified.

“No, they will just render them unconscious so we can go pay a visit to our new friend. You and Evgeni can keep an eye on this one.”

Evgeni nodded. 

“Thank you.” He followed Carel and Valery upstairs, curious as to why Evgeni was following him. “Yes?” he asked him once they were alone in the kitchen. 

“If Thomas decides to kill him, what do I do?”

“Let him. This man’s fate is out of my hands. If Thomas wants him to live, we can take him at Bosilke with us. Better a living traitor than a dead spy, and we can learn more from him. But, honestly, I don’t care.” 

“Thank you, Sir.”

He smiled tightly. He’d rather His Excellency made that decision than him. He could kill in battle, or even during an interrogation session, but afterwards, when he’d be killing a tied up, scared, young man crying for his mother? He didn’t want to do that, even if that young man had killed one of His Excellency’s people. He’d done it under orders, and he could understand that well. If the man truly was remorseful, then atoning through his deeds was better than being punished by death.

But that was what Vasya and he thought, and he knew that most people considered both of them strange and odd. His Excellency seemed like a man who thought like most men, and he would decide based on what most people would do in the situation. Mark wouldn’t care either way what they did, so, yes, he was far happier letting His Excellency decide. 

“Sir?” Valery stepped into the kitchen. “I punched him so hard, he won’t be waking up any time soon.”

He grinned. “Well done.”

Carel returned a moment later. “All clear, Sir.”

“Great. Gentlemen, you know the best way there, right?”

Valery and Carel grinned. “Oh, yes,” they replied together. 

Smiling, he followed them out of the service entrance. They truly knew all the little side streets and pathways between the palaces, making him marvel at their memory. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was why they had all been chosen in the first place. But they still had much to learn. 

Ah, how he longed for Vasya. He really wanted to talk to him about his wolf cubs. Once they were back, he would do it right after reporting to Mark. And right before sharing a long bath with him, and their bed. Or maybe as they shared the bath, and their bed. That was more likely. 

How he missed him. 

“We are here,” Valery whispered. 

It was a quiet street, with quaint, two-storeyed houses and no light shining out of any window. 

“If I may,” Valery continued with a smile, and he nodded.

Out of a coat pocket, he took a set of tools. He placed one against the door, then another, and started fiddling with the lock very quietly. Moments later the door opened without a sound. 

He nodded and Valery slipped in first, then Carel followed him and he went last, closing the door softly behind him. “The bedrooms are upstairs usually,” Valery whispered, and he didn’t doubt him. They were in a large living room, as sparsely furnished as the reception halls of palaces. 

He looked around as they walked inside, moving as quietly as possible. He couldn’t see anything that showed that the Major was married. No signs of two people decorating a space they had chosen to share; only the taste of one single person was evident in the room they were crossing. They reached the staircase and went up. 

There were four doors upstairs. He glanced at Valery and he shrugged, before pointing at the one further to the left. He nodded and reached for the handle of the door closest to him as Valery moved to the end of the corridor, followed by Carel.

He opened the door to a study and closed it just as softly. 

Carel shook his head. Valery nodded. 

He hurried there and at a second nod, they all moved into the room, Carel and Valery on either side of the bed, and he at the foot. They stared at the man sleeping there. He looked slightly older than him, had a small beer belly, and was snoring loudly over the sheets without a care in the world. This man called himself an intelligence officer. Or an army officer, for that matter. Why was not his dagger by his side? 

He gestured for them to grab the man, and Valery and Carel reached down and grabbed one arm each. 

He twitched, but didn’t wake up. 

Snorting, Grigori took out his pistol and kicked the man in the leg. 

This time, he did, but Valery and Carel held him down. 

“Hello,” Grigori told him with a smile. “Major Nyevi? Grigori Lesnev. I believe you owe me an explanation or two.”

“Fuck you,” he grumbled as he tried to rise off the bed, kicking the mattress uselessly.

“Honestly, can’t you say something more original? Never mind. I have a few questions for you, and you have two choices. Be smart and answer me, or be stupid and be silent. What will it be?”

Nyevi stared at him. 

“I’ll start with an easy question. Why did you send that boy to kill me?”

When he stayed silent, he touched his throat for a second. Valery sat on the man’s arm and pressed his arm against his throat. 

“When his arm gets tired, I will let him use his hand. And believe me, he can squeeze your throat until you feel like you’re dying, let you breathe for a moment, and then start again. We can do that for hours.” He checked his watch. “It’s two fifty-one. You probably need to be at your office or wherever you need to be at eight. So, we have five hours before anyone comes looking for you and, believe me, I know many games to help us pass the time. So, will you be smart or stupid?” He gestured for Valery to raise his arm, and he did. 

“What do I gain if I am smart?”

Grigori smiled. “Your life. If you are smart, we will finish this in five, ten, thirty minutes, I will leave you tied up and by eight-thirty, someone will come looking for you and find you all trussed up after a successful burglary at your house. If you are stupid, then you will make me play and play and play, and by the time I have my answers, I will be too annoyed that you have made me waste valuable time leaving, that I will kill you.” He smiled as happily as Vasya at the prospect of brushing Oleg. “So, what will it be?”

“Promise you will make this look like a burglary?”

“I will even beat you up to show that you resisted, if you want.”

With a deep breath, the man nodded. “I’ll be smart.”

“Thank you. Well?”

“The King wants you dead,” he said in Valentinois. “All of you. I’ve already sent four of my men to intercept the two guards that left early this morning and kill them before they reach the borders.”

Grigori swallowed hard. Stupid; how stupid; hadn’t he himself pointed out to them that they were watched? Of course, their departure had not been kept secret, but he hadn’t expected that they would be followed. Ah, fuck, he had to trust that Maxim and Sila would manage.

“Why?”

“You don’t know?” Nyevi started laughing hysterically. “You really don’t know?”

“No.” He waited patiently for the man to calm down. 

“Your Guard. He killed one of the King’s assassins, but most importantly, he killed the brother of the assassin sent to kill your king, the Consort. We thought you knew that His Majesty was behind the attack on the Consort, and that was why your Guard killed him, and was now on his way to Bosilke to inform him.”

Grigori froze. He saw that Carel and Valery were looking at him horrified. 

“Why?” Valery whispered. “The Young Lord is a nice person.”

Nyevi turned his head and glared at Valery as if he were stupid and insulting. “Your Young Lord came here and treated Ustvela as his fucking playground. Just because you are stronger and richer than us, that doesn’t give you the right to behave as if we are dirt.”

“We did no such thing,” Carel protested. “We paid for everything, and paid doubly for all the damages we caused. And we bought three cows for the one we put up on the roof of the Mayor’s house at Muztina, and fell down when we gave it wine, and…”

Grigori felt his eyes widen. He really needed more time with Vasya. That was not in any report he had read!

“Money is not the answer to everything,” Nyevi shouted at him. 

Carel flinched. 

Grigori cleared his throat. “So, Your King thought we knew that he had tried to kill His Majesty at Fladd? That is why?”

Nyevi looked at him with a strange expression, between resignation and disbelief. 

“What more do you know?” Grigori asked him, trusting in his instincts. “I know you know more than what you just told me. Tell me, and I will let you live. I swear it on my husband’s life.”

After a few moments of staring at him, Nyevi started. His manner was different. He was not hysterical, he was not afraid, he looked… passionate. “Our King tried to kill the Consort at Fladd because he was full of indignation at how he had behaved here, and how he had seduced Prince Anton.”

Carel snorted. “He never seduced your prince. He’s crazy about his husband.”

Nyevi huffed and looked at Carel as if he were stupid. “Not like that. Politically.” He turned to face Grigori. “Almost every night that Your Majesty was here, Lesnev was by our Prince’s side, persuading him that our country should remain subordinate to Bosilke forever. Wasn’t your Consort behind that?”

Grigori just stared at the man. He had no idea what he was talking about. Even though he wanted the world to change, Vasya hated talking politics. He could never believe that his husband had tried to convince Anton to become their ally. His reports too were clear: Anton kept begging to be invited at the parties so he could meet women before he got married. Even if he told the truth, though, Nyevi wouldn’t believe him.

Carel and Valery looked shocked, turning their gaze between Nyevi and Grigori and trying to figure out the truth. 

“When Your Emperor came here, it became obvious how deeply and widely the Consort’s poison had spread into the Prince. Instead of seeing how placing Fredrik on the Oerestand throne was an opportunity for us to become independent of you, he took arms in order to keep Ustvela under the Bosilik yoke. Our Prince broke Our King’s heart,” he told them with fervour. “He broke the sacred bond between Father and Child, all to support Bosilke, under the influence of treacherous words.”

What a mess, Grigori sighed. 

“Our Majesty realised that the only one way to get rid of the poison and crush Bosilke is to get rid of the Consort.”

“What?” the Guards shouted.

“While he lives, Our Prince will not stop supporting Bosilke. But when he’s dead, your Emperor’s spirit will die with him, and Bosilke will no longer be a threat to us. Our Prince will have to see the error of his ways then.” 

Grigori shivered. Francis was more than thoroughly unpleasant and a lying liar who lied. He was mad. “Major. You care for Your King and your country the way I care for mine. After what you have told me, and that I will report to My King, if the Consort dies, what choice will Our King have but to declare war at Ustvela?”

Nyevi stared at him. “You’ll need more than my words to prove that Our King is behind your Consort’s death. Because he will kill him. My men are already at Bosilke, ready to stop the spread of his poison from infecting others. And even if you stop them, others will follow.”

He looked at the man. What would Vasya say? Why was he talking so freely? Damn it all, why wasn’t Vasya here? He was good at figuring people out. “You are mad,” he told him, since he couldn’t think that Vasya would say. “You will drag your country into war. Talk to your King and call back your men before that happens. “

“Why? I told you, when the Consort is dead, your Emperor’s spirit will die. You will not win another war; not while you have Nikolaj on the throne.” He grinned. “You know what happens to swans when their mates die? They die of grief. That’s what will happen to him.” He started laughing. 

“You are all mad,” Grigori muttered. “Completely mad.”

Nyevi continued laughing until Valery hit him on the back of the head, and he fell unconscious. “Can I kill him, Sir?”

“No. I swore on Vasya’s life that I will let him live.”

“You did, not I,” Carel said and Valery nodded. 

“You are under my command. It is the same thing. Tie him up and hide him somewhere,” he said as he went for the big cabinet on one side of the room and started taking out the drawers and throwing out their contents. 

What a fucking, fucking mess. “Hurry,” he said as he grabbed some golden chains. “We need to leave this fucking place. Valery, you will go to Vasya and tell him everything. Carel, you and Evgeni are coming with me.”

“Where, Sir?” Carel asked without looking up from where he was tying Nyevi with strips from his sheets. 

Mad King Francis would not stop trying to kill His Majesty, so they had to stop King Francis. If only Anton were free; then he’d go into the palace, and kill the man himself. Anton would be horrified, execute him, but he wouldn’t go against Bosilke. Problem solved. But with two vultures ready to take the throne, and baby eagle in a cage, that would never work. Fuck. “To His Majesty. Not the Consort, the other one. We need to get Anton on the throne. And we need more men. And more funds. And Imperial permission to conduct an operation here. Nikolaj is closer. Fuck.” 

Fuck.


	58. Chapter 58

Evgeni looked at Michal, frowning. The man had stopped sobbing a little after the Major, Carel and Valery had left, but he was still sniffling, and every now and then, he would cry a little.  
Thomas stood up and rubbed his shoulder. “I’ll make us more coffee.”

He touched his husband’s hand and smiled at him. “Thank you.” He turned towards Michal the moment Thomas left the room. “I understand why you did what you did, but not why they let you come alone. Without support from a team member?”

Michal sniffled. “Two are slower than one,” he said hoarsely.

“I see. We are taught that two are better than one.”

They stared at each other.

“But, one person against the Major?” He shook his head. “That was stupid.”

Michal sighed. “They said, he’s a fop, buying art and married to that drunkard gambler. They said, I can handle that.”

Evgeni looked at Michal. He was smaller than Stepan. How on earth was he supposed to handle the Major? And… “Married to that drunkard?” He huffed, feeling offended on behalf of both Majors. “The Captain doesn’t drink that much.” 

Michal’s expression was one of disbelief. “I was at one of your parties. I saw how much he was drinking.”

“Your beer is weak. It tastes like water and feels like water.”

“You haven’t tried the right beer, then.”

Evgeni grinned at the indignant tone. “Maybe you can show me where to find it,” he said, and his smile fell at the same time as Michal’s expression turned miserable. 

“You will kill me, won’t you?” he said in a very small voice. “I don’t want to die. I just did what I was ordered.”

“You also killed Jean.”

“He caught me sneaking in. What was I supposed to do?” he cried.

Evgeni sighed deeply. “In your place, I would have done the same. Why are we enemies?”

Michal tried to shrug, and he grimaced in pain. “We used to be allies for years, but…”

“Yes?”

“Your King insulted Our King with his behaviour. I…” Michal smiled a little. “I thought your King seemed like a nice person to have on the throne,” he said in a low voice, as if he was sharing a secret and unpopular opinion with his Ustvelan comrades. 

“He is nice,” Evgeni agreed. “Do you think we will be friends and allies again?”

“Does it matter what I think? The higher-ups and the king make these decisions.”

“Of course, it matters,” Evgeni said fiercely. “You must have an opinion on what they decide. You said that our King seems nice. You already have thoughts on this matter, and it is clear that part of you disagreed with what you had to do.”

Michal looked at him strangely. “My Major said that I had to kill your Major to protect our land. I did not disagree with that.”

Evgeni nodded slowly. “I would also kill for my country.”

Michal looked down. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I failed. If you don’t kill me, my King will. A failed assassin is a liability, and he doesn’t like those. Even if I try to run, the king’s secret police will find me.” He glanced up for a moment. “Your Major? He will do it fast, right?” he sniffled.

Evgeni felt like crying. If things were different, it could have been him in Michal’s place. “I think so,” he said. “He is good with a knife.”

“I know,” Michal laughed as he started crying again. 

“Here…” Thomas said from the entrance. “What is going on? He started crying again?” he said with impatience as he sat next to Evgeni and handed him a cup of coffee. “And why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

“Thomas, he’s like me. A soldier doing his duty.”

“Killing people in the middle of the night?”

“The Major could be killing his Major right now,” Evgeni pointed out. “Do you think he won’t?”

“Fucking spies,” Thomas muttered.

“We prefer the term ‘intelligence personnel’,” Evgeni told him, just a little annoyed.

Thomas grinned, nodding. As he looked at Michal his expression changed. “Jean has been with me for almost fifteen years. We grew up together. I…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Evgeni looked away from him as he drank a little of the coffee. He could understand Thomas, but he could also understand Michal. How he wished the Captain was there. He would figure out what Evgeni wanted to do. He’d ask him, what was important? So Evgeni asked himself, what mattered to him the most? Getting justice for Jean, or saving the life of someone like him? But if they did take Michal with them, and then he betrayed them, then he would have deprived Thomas of his need to see the death of his friend avenged, and brought a traitor into their land. 

He glanced up at Michal. It all depended on whether Michal could live at Bosilke without turning against it, and if he saw this as an opportunity to start a new life. He had to if he were telling the truth and his own comrades would rather kill him than let him make up for his mistake. He sighed.

“We’re back,” Carel shouted from the kitchen above them.

Moments later, the Major came running down the cellar. 

“Your Excellency, Evgeni, have you decided?” the Major told them, nodding towards Michal. 

Thomas looked at him. “I want him dead.”

“If he can live at Bosilke and not turn against us, I’d rather he lived,” Evgeni said. “He’s like us,” he whispered. “And his own country has abandoned him.”

“He’s a murderer.”

“He’s a soldier following orders in order to protect the safety of his own country. If he had succeeded, he would have been rewarded, even if for you and me, these orders are wrong. I don’t think this makes him a criminal. And, he really has nowhere to go now that he has failed in his mission.” 

The Major smiled a little. “You need to decide soon. Your Excellency, we must leave now. Decide, say your goodbyes, and Evgeni, I want you in the kitchen with your stuff in the next fifteen minutes.” He nodded and ran up. 

Thomas stared at his retreating back in horror. “Fifteen minutes?”

Evgeni shrugged and grabbed Thomas for a kiss. Thomas responded immediately, moaning deep in his throat as he opened his mouth and Evgeni tasted the coffee he’d been drinking. “We will be together soon,” he told him as he broke off the kiss, leaving Thomas visibly dazed and reaching for him. 

“Yes, Zhenya.”

He smiled. “I love how you love my name.” He kissed him on the lips. “So, Michal?”

Thomas sighed. “You already call him by name. Do you think he can change?”

“Yes.” He was certain of that. Or, at least, he hoped it very fervently! 

“If he doesn’t, will you kill him? For me, and Jean?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Just for the record, I disagree, but,” Thomas sighed. “You can have him,” he said in a very low and disappointed voice. 

Evgeni kissed him again. “Thank you.” He let him go and went to free Michal, knowing that Thomas had his back. 

“You won’t kill me?” Michal whispered, tears still running down his face.

“No, you are coming with us. Do you think you can do that? Make Bosilke your new home?”

Michal nodded. 

“Can you move?” he asked when he had released him from the ropes and was in the process of coiling them quickly. 

Michal was in a worse state than Maxim after he’d killed that man, he realised as Michal couldn’t even get up from the chair. 

“Don’t expect me to help,” Thomas told him from where he was watching. 

Evgeni crouched, picked Michal up and carried him over his shoulder, wishing he would stop shivering and sniffling. 

“Gods, you are mad,” Thomas whispered as he followed them up to the kitchen. 

“Perhaps, but… maybe one day someone will show me the same kindness that I am showing Michal,” he told him seriously, hoping that Luck would keep him safe, and never put him in a position that he would need to rely on the kindness of strangers. He put Michal down, settled him on a chair and smiled at Thomas. “Keep an eye on him, I must go pack.”

As he ran up the stairs, he wondered what had happened for the Major to come back ordering them to leave immediately, but he knew that he would find out soon. It must have been really important and a State Secret for him not to say anything to Thomas. 

Ah, it would be nice if Thomas were allowed to…. He grinned. Thomas already knew he was in intelligence. He would be able to live with Evgeni keeping secrets from him. 

The only thing that was still out was his full dress uniform, thrown on the bed as he changed into plain clothes while the Major had been making coffee and they were taking turns guarding Michal while they waited. Watching the Major hurt someone so calmly and casually, even smiling without a hint of malice, had been strange, but also had been as if someone had opened all the curtains and let the light flood into a previously dark window. 

Intelligence was not for the faint of heart, but it had a higher purpose: to protect their country. Their violence was justified, although seeing Michal had made him wonder if violence could really bring results in every case. He suspected that if the session had continued longer, Michal would have confessed to anything, not just revealed what he knew. 

He sighed as he picked up his bag. He knew that, at some point in the next months, as he would be assessed for promotion to corporal, he would be also assessed if he would be capable of handling interrogations, and taught where to hurt but not kill, and all sorts of really horrifying things. Watching the Major had made him realise that they needed people like him but also that he could not be one of them. 

When they were back, he would talk to the Captain about it. Perhaps there was something else he could do. Perhaps something with his language skills?

Another thing that had struck him during the interrogation, but mostly during his discussion with Michal was how different their unit was from his. First of all, the Major had explained to him this mission, and what was expected of him, then listened to his worries and his fears, and finally persuaded him and reassured him that he could do it. Evgeni was not only allowed to think about what they did, but expected to, and he was permitted to object. He was certain that if he hadn’t been convinced, the Captain would have let him be and just enjoy his honeymoon with Thomas. 

How odd to discover that other armies did things so differently. He would like to know more about their differences. Perhaps Michal would explain how things worked in their military for him? 

He ran into the kitchen. Thomas was leaning against the table, watching Michal, still on the chair where he’d left him, shivering, but wrapped in a blanket, while the Major, Carel and Valery were already there, their traveling bags by their feet. “Sorry, Sir.”

The Major made a dismissive gesture as he checked his watch. “You still have twenty seconds left.” He turned towards Thomas and bowed to him. “Your Excellency, thank you for your hospitality. I hope we will be able to offer you ours when you are at Bosilke.”

“That would be an honour.”

The Major grinned. “You may kiss your husband, but then we are off. Valery, can you ride with Michal?”

“If you don’t mind,” Evgeni said, “I would like to ride with Michal.”

“As you wish,” the Major said after Valery’s shrug. 

Thomas took his hands into his. “This time, write to me, Zhenya.”

“I will, Thomas.” He leaned down and kissed him chastely on the lip. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Zhenya. May Luck be with you on your travel.”

“Thank you.”

They looked at each other, and he would happily do that for longer, but the Major tapped his foot a few times, and he knew they had to stop. “Write to me,” Thomas told him again. 

He nodded and helped Michal up from the chair. 

“When we can, we will write to your family,” he whispered to him.

“No,” Michal shrieked. “They will find me and kill me. And they will kill them too. No.”

Evgeni hugged him. “No, then. Come on. Sir, where did you find the horses?”

“This one,” he grinned as he patted a beautiful bay stallion, “is courtesy of our new friend. The other three are generous gifts of Prince Krzyzanowslavski.” He made a face. “He also insisted I take one more cameo. I think Vasya will have to come and stay with the Prince for a month and repay him for his kindness by cooking for him. Whenever we can come back.” He mounted Nyevi’s horse and smiled at them. “Ready?”

With Carel’s help, Evgeni got Michal up on the horse, and then mounted behind him, making sure that he was still wrapped in his blanket. He knew that the Major would give him his orders later. First, they had to leave. 

He turned back and saw Thomas at the service door. He waved at him, smiling, and Thomas waved back. Luck would be with them. She had to be. She couldn’t have brought them together for less than two weeks in six months only. She had to be with them.

&*&*

_Somewhere, 11th of Fire Month,_

_My LOVE!_

_I had pancakes made by V yesterday! MY LOVE, they were MARVELOUS!_

Elik put his quill down. That was not something that Nikolaj could care about, could it? Even if Vasily’s pancakes were indeed the most perfect and wonderful pancakes he had ever had in his whole life, thick and light and fluffy all at once!

He checked that the ink had indeed dried while he had been thinking of pancakes, folded the letter, and put it in his folder, together with the other papers.

Mark smiled at him. “Done already?” 

“No, but I can continue later. I can write to Him after lunch, or dinner.” Their carriage started moving more slowly. “Is it time for lunch already?”

“Indeed, Sire. Will you be riding with Vasya afterwards or Vassily?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I…” He looked out and started waving at the people gathered at the main street. “I think I want to join you and do official business,” he grinned. “Or maybe introduce the kittens to Oleg, so that Vasya can ride with us? It is time they were introduced to dogs, and Oleg is such a good boy.” He looked out again, trying to see if he could find Dima and Oleg, but they were probably riding somewhere near the back.

Mark laughed. “And maybe you both can help me with one of my problems?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“How to call the Regiment’s cats. They need an official title, since they live in the Barracks and I want to make sure everyone knows that they are under my protection.”

Elik started laughing. “Maybe. Ensigns? Or Adjutants?”

“They need something special. Like High Mouse-Catchers or something like that.”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “I see what you mean. This is a serious problem,” he laughed again.

“So far, I have come up with Mouse-Catchers, Bird-Killers, Lazy Pests, but nothing really captures their catness,” he grinned as their carriage stopped.

“Yes, yes.” Honestly, he couldn’t stop laughing at the idea. “Maybe… Hello, Kolya,” he said as Kolya opened the door for him, “Great Whiskered Gentlemen?”

Kolya frowned and looked at him strangely. 

“Cats. The Reds keep cats,” Elik told him, “and they need an official name.”

Kolya raised one eyebrow. “House lions?”

“Hm. Maybe… It is a very serious problem, Chancellor,” he smiled. “Kolya, we might all have to convene after dinner and decide together.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kolya grinned. 

The moment he was out, the Mayor and the Council of the town approached him, all the rich people and their wives behind them, and five children in front of them, all holding flowers. The little ones were in their best clothes and clearly chosen based on their good looks. 

He smiled. He had preferred the first days of traveling, when they were still at Quhjan and everything was more informal. This was doing his duty to his second home, though, and showing to everyone that he was not in disgrace, but very much in His Majesty’s favour. When the children came near him, he knelt down so he could look them in the eyes. “Hello, nice to meet to you.”

A blonde girl in a red dress gave him a wide grin, showing that half her teeth were missing. “Hello, Your Majesty,” she said as she offered him a bouquet of flowers.

“Hello, thank you, what beautiful flowers.”

She blushed. Another blonde girl behind her smiled at him shyly. She was younger, and their similar features betrayed they were sisters. “Give him your flowers, Hanusya,” she urged her.

“Hanusya? What a pretty name. Just like you.”

The girl thrust her bouquet forward and hid behind her sister better. 

“My sister was also shy when she was your age,” he told them. How had Irina grown up so fast? 

At the urging of the Mayor, the other three children gave them their flowers, and he accepted them with a smile. They were cute! 

As the Mayor introduced them to the Council members, and walked him to the area where they would have lunch, he gave the flowers to Savin, and tried to focus to what the Mayor was saying. Really, an official name for the Regiment’s cats. He chuckled.

The Mayor pretended he hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t paying much attention, and led him to the table where they would sit in the centre of the main square. 

“How lovely the weather still is.”

“Indeed. Last summer, we hardly saw the sun, it was raining so much.”

He tried to remember what he was doing last summer. He was stuck at Ivanhof, he realised as he sat. That palace was an old-fashioned, gilded cage. 

How happy he was that they were traveling so slowly across the Empire. Suddenly, the similarity of the towns stopped bothering him, the wide roads through plains and meadows, lined with trees as they approached towns and villages and with forests looming in the distance became even more picturesque. As long as he was traveling, he was not back in his cage.

“Rain is necessary, but summer should be sunny,” he said as he sat to the right of the Mayor and the Mayor took his seat. He smiled. “I heard that your town is famous for its beer. I hope we will have some with our lunch. Where is it produced exactly?”

The Mayor pointed to two of the men seated at the table of the rich people. As he started explaining that they were the two biggest producers of beer in the area, Elik noticed Vasya get up from his seat, rubbing his temple. He glanced at Mark, and saw that he too was only paying half-attention to the Mayor’s wife, and was watching Vasya walk towards them. 

How he hoped that Vasya would get well soon. Two days with a headache? Perhaps he had managed to catch a cold! It could happen, even in the middle of the summer!

“Excuse me,” he said to the Mayor and turned as Vasya passed in front of Kolya and leaned down next to him. 

“Sire. I am sorry, but I really need to retire now,” he whispered and Elik noticed that he looked pale as well as miserable. 

“Your headache?”

“Yes.”

“Of course. Do you need anything?”

“Darkness.”

Elik nodded. “We will keep some food for you.”

“No, thank you. But maybe for the kittens?”

He smiled. “Yes, don’t worry.” He’d make sure there was something for Vasya too, and not just for the kittens. Once he knew where Vasya had retired, he would send him some cold soup. Each time they had it served, it had seemed a favourite of his. 

“Thank you.” After a bow, Vasya straightened and started walking away. 

Elik turned towards the Mayor again. “Apologies.”

“Perhaps the weather is affecting him,” the Mayor said kindly. “My dau….”

He suddenly heard Vasya shout “Twelve” from behind him at the same time as a loud bang, and felt something crash into him, and push him down on the table, one arm in a dark blue sleeve under his forehead cushioning his fall.

The Mayor’s wife and other women started screaming a moment later. He craned his neck and saw Kolya and Geert running towards the back, where the Mayor’s house was. No, towards the body of a servant lying down half-way between the Mayor’s house and him, an upturned tray next to him. 

Vasya moved off him. “Are you well?” he asked him quietly.

He sat up. “Apart from being a little shocked, I am fine.”

“Good.” 

He looked at the dark stain on Vasya’s side. That wasn’t there before, and it was growing as he watched. It took him a moment to realise what he saw. “I don’t think you are well.” 

Vasya nodded as he pressed his white handkerchief over the centre of the stain and it started getting red. “I’ll go see the doctor now.” He took a shuddering breath. “I don’t recommend you proceed with lunch here. Maybe inside, only with the Mayor and the more important families. And Their Graces, of course.”

“Of course,” he muttered. “I’m coming to the doctor with you,” he told him as he stood up. “Lunch can wait.”

“Sire,” Vasya protested as he grew paler.

“It can wait,” Mark agreed in a small voice. Elik hadn’t even seen him move and come near them, so focused he had been on the blood staining Vasya’s clothes. As he looked up, he saw that the Guards had cleared the space around him, creating a circle between him and everyone else who had been invited at this lunch. The women had been escorted out, and the only outsider was the Mayor, who was still seated and looked as pale and shocked as Mark. 

The circle of the Guards broke, letting in Dr Van den Berg, the surgeon who had been Dr Visser’s assistant, run towards them, accompanied by one of his assistants and Asei, who continued running towards the Mayor’s house that was right behind them.

The Mayor stood up. “Follow me,” he said.

Dr Van den Berg shook his head and pushed Vasya down on Elik’s chair, making him hiss in pain. “First I will check on my patient.”

The Mayor moved a little away, and fell on Duke Okdranov. They apologised to each other and stayed on the side, watching quietly. 

Vasya started unbuttoning his coat, grimacing. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Mark said, as he pushed Vasya’s hands away and undid the buttons for him. “Stay still, you idiot.”

“I’m fine,” Vasya grinned shakily. “It just hurts a lot, but I don’t think it’s serious.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Dr Van den Berg snapped at him. 

Vasya groaned as Mark took off his coat for him, and hissed as he started removed his shirt. “It’s stuck on the wound, don’t pull it like that.”

“Sorry,” Mark muttered and stopped. 

One of the doctor’s assistants took over from Mark. The other ran where they were, holding a large bag in his hand. When he reached them, he started removing a bowl, a spoon and several bottles from the doctor’s case.

“Any clues on the body? Who is he?” Vasya asked Kolya, as if he didn’t have a doctor’s assistant applying water on his shirt so he could remove it more easily and making him shudder at each pass of the towel. “And just fucking cut it,” he snapped at the assistant. The man stared at him, shocked. “Forgive me, the right side of my head is not attached to the left. It hurts, and now that hurts too,” he gasped, pointing at his wound. 

“You have migraines? Since when?” Dr Van den Berg asked him. 

“You mean, since when do I have this one or since when do I have them?”

“Both.”

As Vasya thought for a moment, Elik realized what Dr Van den Berg was doing; he was distracting him from his assistant, who had resumed wetting the fabric. 

“This one since yesterday afternoon. Late afternoon. In general, since I was fourteen, but they don’t happen very often. Last one that was this bad was three years ago.”

“I see. Can you lift your arms?”

Vasya did with a grimace, paled again, and shuddered as Mark helped the assistant remove his shirt. 

Elik came closer at the same time as Mark and Dr Van den Berg. 

“Can I have some space, please? I need light,” Dr Van den Berg chided them.

They both pulled back, sharing a look that showed they both felt a little remorse, but mostly, that they wanted to see how hurt Vasya was. 

Dr Van den Berg’s assistant applied another wet towel on the area and cleaned it as gently as he could. When he was done, Dr Van den Berg took a long look at the wound and then started prodding him.

“It’s nothing serious,” Vasya insisted, even though it was obvious from his expression that he was in pain. 

“Yes, you were lucky,” Dr Van den Berg finally said, “But you will need stitches.” He opened his case and took out a bottle with a white liquid. When he opened it, Elik smelled it was alcohol. Dr Van den Berg poured some in a clean towel and pressed it on the wound, making Vasya hiss a swear word in a language he didn’t understand. 

“I need to clean the wound first, and disinfect it,” he told Vasya.

“I know,” Vasya replied testily as he tried to take a deep breath. “It hurt. Next time, warn me.”

“Fine,” Dr Van den Berg grinned. He took out a pair of ducks-bills pliers. “There’s a little scrap of fabric here, and I’m not sure if that is metal, so this too will hurt,” he said as he poured alcohol on it and started removing what he had seen. 

“This hurts more than the bullet,” Vasya gasped. 

“A little patience. There.” He showed him a scrap of something shiny. “The bullet must have broken as it hit you, but I can’t see any serious damage. A little to the right and we would be having a very different discussion, though.”

Vasya paled. “Thank you.”

“As I said, you will require stitches. I can give you something for the pain.”

Vasya snorted. “Strangely enough, this actually makes my migraine not better, but less pressing. Go ahead.” He glanced back. “Have you found anything?” he tried to shout to the Guards examining the dead servant’s body, but his voice wouldn’t come out.

Mark whistled at them and gestured for them to come over. “Do you have a report for us?”

One of Vasya’s Quartermasters approached them and gave them a little nod. He looked so ordinary, neither handsome, neither ugly, just average, that Elik wondered if that was why he always seemed to not be there. Throughout their trip, he had hardly noticed him. 

“There is nothing on his person to indicate who he is. The Mayor’s Cook told us that his name is Ulf Grundel. He has been here since the beginning of summer, and has been doing odd jobs around the town, and helping at the tavern. That was why he was hired today to help with the lunch.”

“That is a non-Bosilik name,” Mark remarked. Is he from one of the families of Westerners that have settled here?”

“We will look into the name, but the Cook also said that he had a slight accent, so perhaps he was a Westerner, rather than a settler.”

“Have you searched his room yet?”

The Quartermaster nodded at Vasya’s question. “Ignat and Yulian are doing this right now.”

“Thank you.” He let out another hiss and Elik turned to see that Dr van den Berg had started sewing the lips of the wound close.

“Anything else?” Mark asked.

He handed Mark the assassin’s pistol. “It has no official markers, so we know this was not military issue. It does have this sign here, so when we are back at the Capital, we will check it against the list of weapons makers’ markers that we have and see if we can identify it.”

“How did he kill himself?” Elik asked him.

“Cut himself across the neck.”

Elik grimaced. Quick and efficient. 

“Thank you, Babkin.”

The man nodded and left them.

“How did you notice that he had a pistol?” Elik asked Vasya.

“As I turned, I saw that he was carrying his tray at a slight angle, so I looked for what might be causing that. No servant would ever hold a tray like that.”

Elik turned back towards the man. “Kolya and Geert were here,” he said as he walked to where his guards were positioned behind him. There was a gap between them, making him realise that from where the man had been approaching him, he would have had a clear shot at him. He shuddered.

“That’s protocol. Two steps behind, four apart,” Vasya sighed. “We will change it.”

“I don’t want one of my Guards to be killed in my place,” he said as he looked at the Guards moving the dead man’s body. When he turned around, he saw Mark and Duke Okdranov glaring at him. The Mayor looked at him with surprised admiration, while Vasya had his eyes closed as he grimaced. “What?”

“Sire,” Mark chided him without a second word. 

“We will figure something out,” Vasya gasped. 

“Almost there,” the doctor smiled. “You really were very lucky. Jan? Is the ointment ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

As usual, medicine was too big a distraction for him. His questions could wait a few moments. “What are you using?” he asked as Dr van den Berg’s assistant offered him the bowl, now filled with a pungent mixture. Oh, Asei was back too. 

“Egg yolk, rose oil, and turpentine.”

“Ah, that was what Dr Isakin was using as well,” Elik smiled. 

“Charming,” Mark smirked.

His comment made Vasya grin. “A proper soldier’s perfume. Ouch, laughing hurts. Ah, fuck.”

“Glad you are amused,” Dr van den Berg smiled as he applied the ointment on the wound. 

“It’s better than being annoyed,” he told him. 

Elik watched as the doctor placed a piece of gauze over the wound next, and then used strips of bandages around Vasya’s chest to hold it in place. 

“All done,” Dr van den Berg said as he finished. “I will check you tomorrow again. No sudden moves, no carrying weight, and no getting it wet,” he instructed him.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Sirs,” he said, closing and picking up his bag, as his assistant wrapped everything they had used in a towel.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Elik told him seriously. 

“I’m just doing my job, Sire.” He nodded and walked out of the circle of Guards. 

Elik turned towards the Mayor. “We would like lunch to be delayed a little more. You really think it’s best not to have it here in the open as planned?” he asked Vasya.

He nodded. “If he has an accomplice, that will give him opportunity to strike. Best be cautious and assume he has one. Lunch in a closed room, with only the important families,” he repeated tiredly. 

“Mr Mayor, can you arrange for such a space to be prepared for Us? We would like to know more of your town, and if there are any matters you would like to discuss with Us.”

The Mayor bowed deeply. “Of course, Sire.”

“Mr Mayor?” Vasya asked him. “Can you direct us to a room where we could talk?”

“What are you doing? You should go rest.”

“We need to talk. Please.” 

He glanced at Mark and Duke Okdranov and saw them nod slightly. “Fine. Mr Mayor, please?”

“Yes, follow me. You can use my study.”

Elik walked beside the Mayor. “Can you also prepare a room for His Excellency to rest?”

He nodded. 

“Thank you.”

The Mayor led them inside his house. There were few, heavy furniture and mirrors on the walls of the reception area, and his study was right behind it. 

“Thank you,” he said again, and waited until the Mayor had left them. “What is it that couldn’t wait?” he turned to Vasya. “You should be resting now.”

“I will. Later.” 

He sat down on the Mayor’s chair, realising that no one would sit before he did, not even the wounded man in the room. How stupid. “I am listening,” he said as they also took a seat, Mark in the sofa at one end and the others in two of the chairs in the room. 

“I think we need to change our plan.” At Elik’s nod, he continued. “You are too accessible during this trip. Too open. You should go back to Ivanhof as soon as possible, Sire.”

“You are paranoid,” Duke Okdranov told him. “You know how important it is for the Regent to appear to the people.”

Vasya nodded. “Yes. And yes. Still, I would prioritize safety over appearances.”

Elik looked at Mark. “What do you think?”

“I…” Mark frowned. “It is important to appear in a position of power. If you run back to Ivanhof, that shows fear.”

Duke Okdranov nodded, while Vasya glared at him. “But…” he started and stopped before getting up and whispering something to Mark, that made him pale. 

Mark turned towards the duke. “Vassily, please, can you go check how the preparations for our lunch are going?”

Duke Okdranov narrowed his eyes. “You can say that you want to talk behind my back and do whatever he wants.”

Factions at Men’s court were just as bad as those in that of the Ladies’. Elik studied them. “If His Majesty were here, would this be something you would bring to the Council?”

“No,” Mark replied immediately. “It would be for His Majesty only.”

“Then,” he turned towards the Duke, “it should be for me only. I am sorry, Your Grace.”

With a huff, the duke stood up, bowed, and left them.

“Well?”

Vasya sat down next to Mark and they looked at each other. Mark finally elbowed Vasya. “Vasya, you say it. You were there.”

“Sire. I want to prioritize safety because,” he took a shuddering breath, looking uncomfortable, “this is not the first time someone tries to take your life. Ivanhof is safer for you.”

Elik froze. “When? How? Why? I mean, why keep it from me?” he gasped. “You lied to me?” he cried out. “You claimed you were my friend, and you lied to me?” he shouted. “How could you? How could you do this to me?” He stood up, walked to the sofa and glared at them, watching with satisfaction that they both cowered under his gaze. “What do you take me for? A child that needs lies to feel safe? How dared you! How? And have you lied to me about other things?” 

He stared down at Vasya, feeling like he could hit him for lying to him. 

Vasya stared at him, but as he did, his awkward, perhaps even ashamed expression, changed to one of calmness. “You are right, and I was wrong,” Vasya finally told him. “I should have told you then.”

“Why didn’t you?” he shouted. “Damn it, be honest with me.”

“Because…” he glanced at Mark. “I can only say why as Vasya.”

“Then be Vasya,” he screamed. “Well?”

“Honestly? Because, Your Majesty, Elik, you were so miserable during most of the trip that I couldn’t tell you that someone had tried to poison you. It was on the 27th of Spring, and it was the first time I had seen you so happy that…” he sighed. “I am sorry, I was wrong.”

“The 27th? Oh, the day I went to Dr Visser’s lecture and I learned about the….” He grinned and cut himself off. “Oh, yes.” His smile fell. “You lied to me so as not to worry me? I don’t understand.”

Vasya looked awkward again. “It felt right.” He gave him a tiny smile. “I’m not always letting my mind guide my actions.” He grew serious. “I am sorry, and I will accept any punishment you deem right.”

“What punishment?”

“We are all your servants, and you can discipline us as you please, Your Majesty. An appropriate punishment would be five or ten lashes. Anything more would require an inquest and a trial.”

Elik snorted. “And that will take the rest of the year.” He took a deep breath. He was still angry, so very angry that Vasya had lied to him but he couldn’t have him whipped, especially not after Vasya had taken a bullet for him. He shivered. If Vasya weren’t there, he could have died. If Vasya had moved differently, Vasya could have died.

“Are you well? Mark, your coat, I think he’s finally realising what happened,” Vasya said hurriedly. 

Elik felt cold. He saw Mark unbutton his coat and throw it over him in seconds. “You could have died,” he whispered. 

The next moment, Mark pulled him to the sofa and made him sit between them. “Everything is fine,” Mark whispered to him. 

“Yes, no one was hurt.” Elik stared at Vasya. “Seriously,” he added, grinning. 

He stared at the floor, feeling warmth from where their thighs touched his. “Why would anyone want to kill me?” he whispered. He didn’t dare ask why Vasya would put his life in danger for him. Duty, he’d tell him, or maybe even friendship, and he didn’t want to think of that. He wanted to still be angry at Vasya, instead of thinking that he could have lost him, or that he could have died.

He didn’t want to die now that he had people to live for. 

He looked at Vasya. “Have you ever lied to me about anything else?”

Vasya nodded. “I told you I joined the army because I wanted to travel. That wasn’t true.”

“Oh.” He thought back at that discussion at Fladd on the night of the 27th, when Vasya had told him that. “I remember.”

“I wish I had joined the army because of my love of traveling,” he told him ruefully. 

“You and Grisha had no other choice, you told me at Jedlowa.” That had been the truth. 

“There was gambling, or other such things,” Vasya chuckled and grimaced in pain. “But they were not honourable choices.”

He nodded. “Have you ever lied to Grisha?” he wondered out loud. 

Vasya glanced at Mark. “I have.”

“We have,” Mark corrected him.

He never expected that. Elik looked at them. “How?”

“Grisha thinks he got transferred to the Reds because there was an opening there, but, in reality, I asked Mark to get him transferred there." 

“And I agreed.”

“Why?”

“Because I love him, and I want him safe,” Vasya told him passionately. “The Reds are one of the Regiments that never leave the Capital. I know that so many things can happen anywhere, but at least, with him in the Reds, I don’t have to worry about him getting killed in battle.”

Elik shivered. Clearly, Vasya would choose lying if it protected someone he cared about, and that meant that… He sighed deeply and fell back. “I want to be mad at you,” he told Vasya. “But you lied to protect me. It was wrong, but you did it for a good reason.” He sighed. He couldn’t be mad at him. 

“And I am more than sorry. I shouldn’t have. But you really were so happy that day, I couldn’t tell you,” he sighed as well. 

That was true, he had been so happy to know that he was not a whore for liking being touched by Nikolaj. And he had enjoyed himself so much after learning that his body worked as it was meant to work and thinking of how he could please Nikolaj. If he had worried about assassins, on top of worrying whether Nikolaj wanted him or not, his darker thoughts would have been even darker. 

Vasya had been right not telling him, so he would trust him this time as well, and forgive him for lying by omission. He smiled. “You were right not to tell me. I would have been even more miserable than I was. Does His Majesty know?”

Vasya looked at Mark, so he turned towards him.

“I couldn’t tell him,” Mark said in a small voice, looking even more ashamed than Vasya. “I was afraid of how he would react.”

So, it wasn’t just him who was scared of Nikolaj’s reactions. “He can be frightening,” he whispered.

Mark nodded. 

He took off Mark’s coat and stood up. “I see why you want me to go to Ivanhof as soon as possible,” he told Vasya. “You did something similar at Fladd, moving us almost every day after the 28th and then locking me up at the Embassy at Aedley.”

Vasya agreed with the tiniest of nods and a smile.

Vasya could do his job without Elik knowing anything, he suddenly realized, and he could do it well. Furthermore, he could just tell him what he wanted to do, and Vasya would make it happen. “Is there some way of doing something similar? You and Duke Okdranov were also right; I must be seen as the Regent,” he said to Mark. “And I do want to make an Entry at the Capital,” he told Vasya. 

Vasya nodded. “Let me think of what changes can be made within the parameters of protocol. Unless… Do I have your permission to change everything as I see fit?”

Elik nodded. 

“Thank you.” He stood up, swaying a little. “With your permission, I would like to retire now.”

“Of course.”

Mark followed him. “With your permission, I will be back as soon as I make sure he gets some rest.” He reached and took Vasya by the arm. 

He nodded. If he could, he would have put Vasya to bed himself. “Yes, please. Thank you. See you soon.”

He stayed looking at the floor for a few moments. He had to write everything to Nikolaj. Everything! And figure out how, without making him mad at Vasya and Mark for keeping things from him. Vasya could keep him safe, he was certain of that, but he too had to keep Vasya safe from Nikolaj! And Mark too!

Ah, fuck. 

&*&*

The Major whistled and his horse began to run a little more slowly. They followed his lead, until their horses moved to a comfortable slow walk into a thick birch forest. 

“We can stop here for a little while,” the Major told them.

“Wake up,” Evgeni whispered to Michal, and the young man stirred. At some point, he’d fallen asleep, and Evgeni had let him rest.

With Carel’s help, he lowered him down.

Michal looked around. “Is this safe? To stop?” He seemed more scared of his comrades than they were. 

“I think so. I also want to have a look at your wounds. Give me your hands,” he told him in Bosilik. 

Michal frowned. “I don’t understand,” he told them in Valentinois. 

“Your hands,” the Major repeated, also in Valentinois this time. 

Michal raised his arms, grimacing. 

The Major unwrapped the linens and looked at them. “Can you move your fingers?”

Michal did, groaning. 

“Good,” he smiled. He put down his travel bag, opened it and took out a shirt and a small flask. With a smile, he put the shirt back in, and found another. “Valery? Cut some strips, please,” he said as he threw it to him.

Valery sat cross-legged on the ground and started tearing it apart. 

“Sir, since we stopped, can we also eat?” Carel asked, sounding like he expected to be told no. 

“Why not?” He grabbed one of the pieces of fabric that Valery had torn, and pulled Michal to sit down with him. “It is well past lunch time.” He sighed. “His Excellency’s Cook and Jean had prepared food for our journey.” He glanced at Michal. 

“I had no choice,” he started, hissing in pain as the Major poured a little vodka on the fabric and cleaned the wounds again. 

“Yes, yes, but it was a stupid thing to do and a needless murder.”

Michal sniffled. “If we were two, would we have done better?”

“Against us?” The Major snorted. “I doubt it.” He opened a second flask and poured some oil on the wounds. 

“Oil?” Carel frowned as he unwrapped their meal. 

“Olive oil. The best oil for wounds. Well, rose oil is just as good, but that’s because rose essence is mixed in olive oil, so I am not sure if it is the rose essence or the olive oil that helps the most.” He grinned. “I had read that Valentin is a great producer of olive oil, and that people there use it for cooking, but I had not expected His Excellency to have oil in his kitchen. Not after so many years of living in Ustvela.”

Evgeni smiled. “Thomas is really proud of his country.” He sighed. “I think he misses Valentin. I wonder, how will he cope at the Capital?”

“He will manage,” the Major told him as he unsheathed his dagger.

Michal flinched.

“Stop it,” the Major growled at him. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it before leaving, and left your corpse outside Nyevi’s home, or your barracks.”

“Mama,” Michal started again.

“For fuck’s sake,” the Major muttered, groaning. “How old are you, you fucking crybaby?”

“Seventeen.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he repeated as he started cutting some of the plants near him. 

Evgeni looked at Michal. He looked nineteen, but seventeen…. That was so young. 

“What are you doing, Sir?” Carel suddenly asked. 

“What does it look like?” He took out a garlic head from his bag, separated a clove and hit it with the flat of his dagger. 

“If he knew, he wouldn’t be asking, Sir,” Valery told him reasonably. 

“I am making a poultice with yarrow, sage, and garlic,” he said as he used a rock to grind everything together. “It will promote healing.”

Michal stared at him strangely. “Thank you, Sir,” he whispered shyly. 

“If you had been smart in the first place, I wouldn’t need to do this,” the Major grumbled. “What do they teach you at your unit?”

“Unit?”

“Intelligence office?”

Michal looked down for a moment. “They teach us to kill ourselves if we get compromised,” he told the Major. “But I failed at that.”

Evgeni pitied him. “If you go with a team member, then your brother can help you escape if you fail.”

“Doesn’t it slow you down?”

Evgeni looked at Valery and Carel. The Major ignored them as he ground the herbs, or pretended to, clearly letting them decide if they wanted to answer. 

Valery raised his hand a little. “You can travel faster when you are alone, but when you are in a team, you have more chances of succeeding and more of escaping.”

“Isn’t it shameful to return back if you have failed? That’s what they tell us.”

“If you return, you have a chance to try again,” Carel said with a frown. 

“When you’re dead, you’re dead,” Valery added grimly. 

Michal sighed. “I think I failed because I lacked the resolve to die.”

Evgeni took a deep breath, shivering as he heard him. He sounded worse than a Quhjani and their songs of death and blood and their stories of dead people who would not stay dead.

“You failed because you lack experience and training,” the Major said. “You failed because your commanding officer sent a boy to do a man’s job.” He smiled at Michal. “There’s nothing wrong with teaching boys how to be men, but everything is wrong with sending them to do something when they are ill-prepared. That’s a commander’s last option, not the first, or second, or third. Although,” he grinned widely, “I don’t mind being underestimated. It helps me do my work better,” he laughed.

Evgeni grinned. Oh, and if the Major heard what they also thought of the Captain! 

“Hey, there are no hard feelings between us, right?” he asked as he approached Michal with the thick salve he had made. “You were doing your job, and I was doing mine. You get that?”  
Michal nodded, looking up at the Major with surprise.

“Good,” he smiled. “Now, tell me, what did they tell you to make you think this would be an easy job?”

Michal frowned, offering his hands to the Major again, and taking a deep breath as the Major started applying the poultice over the wounds. He shook his head.

“They must have said something,” the Major continued grinning. “Probably something about my husband drinking like a fucking fish and so I wouldn’t be any better?” 

Evgeni and the other two shared another look. The Major knew of these rumours already? And, if he knew, the Captain did as well?

“Eh…” Michal looked down, embarrassed. “And gambling, and buying art,” he mumbled. 

The Major continued laughing. “So, gamblers and art lovers are cowards, and drunkards can’t fight back? Well, that last one is true, they can’t when they are drunk.” He started wrapping Michal’s wounds again with the strips of fabric from his shirt. “And I must say, your king did try to get me as drunk as possible. But you still would have failed. Even if you had killed me, you’d still have to escape from Valery and Carel, who hadn’t drunk a drop that night. Teamwork is necessary in our line of work.”

Evgeni had a sudden, strange thought. Was the Major trying to recruit Michal? 

Michal nodded. “Thank you,” he said again when the Major had finished. 

“You’re welcome, kid. Carel, how about that pie?”

As he started distributing pieces of the cheese pie that Marta had made with Jean’s help, Evgeni really wondered. The Major was acting as if Michal was one of them, only at the beginning of his career, and needing to learn everything. How odd!

&*&*

Mark touched Vasya’s forehead, checking his temperature. 

Vasya shrugged.

“No fever,” he told him softly. “How are you feeling?”

“In pain, and exhausted. But my head no longer hurts like someone took a hatchet through it.”

Mark stroked his hair very slowly. “I’m glad. The doctor could have given you something for the pain.”

“And dull me further? No, thanks.”

Stubborn, always so stubborn, he grinned. “You should try having something at dinner. Maybe a broth.” Vasya had thrown up while they had been having lunch, that bad was his migraine, but that had opened his stitches and Dr Van den Berg had had to patch him up again. He had to get some nourishment. 

“Maybe,” he told him, clearly sounding like he wouldn’t follow his advice. “Mark? Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re my favourite cousin,” he said, “and because…”

“Yes?”

“I was hoping you’d have recovered sooner, so we could talk.” But once he had persuaded Vasya to ride with him and Vasya lay down, trying not to cry out, he couldn’t bring himself to discussing things. And once he saw Vasya go to sleep, he really couldn’t do anything but watch him rest. 

“What about?” He made to move, and Mark pressed his shoulder down. He stayed where he was, lying across the seat with his head on Mark’s lap. 

“His Majesty, Elik, said he will write to His Majesty about what happened and send him a letter wherever we stop for our overnight stay. We are going to be so screwed, Cousin,” he sighed deeply.

“Oh, yes,” Vasya chuckled, and then moaned. 

“You are not taking it seriously. Nikolaj, he finally started learning what his Mother had been keeping from him. He knows that his Heads of Police are keeping things from him. He will not be happy that we too kept this from him.”

“I didn’t, you did.”

Mark hit him on the top of head. “Ass, we both did, and you know it. If you wanted, you could have written him a report telling him what had happened at Fladd.”

“I would never go behind your back, Mark. Ever. I sent you my report and let you decide as my superior officer.”

He sighed. And clearly, he had made the wrong decision. But Nikolaj’s behaviour had been so erratic, so frightening, he did not want to upset him further. His anger would not be directed against whomever had tried to hurt Elik, but against his Court. 

“When that happens, we will manage,” Vasya told him soothingly, patting his knee. “His Majesty, Elik, is clever. If there is one person who can find a way to diffuse His Majesty’s anger, that’s him.”

“You think he will?”

“He is our friend, and by now he knows that friendship is built on trust. I believe him when he says he’s forgiven me for not trusting him with the truth, and I believe that he will support us in this.”

“You’re an optimist, Vasya. Always were.”

“Well, and what if His Majesty gets mad? What can he do to us?”

Mark hit him again. “Are you being an idiot now? What can he do to us,” he parroted, sneering. “Take all our property, exile us, execute us. Take your pick.”

Vasya shrugged, and grimaced. “We both did what we thought was right under the circumstances. My conscience is clear. If he gets that mad, then, so be it. I do not regret my decision, even if now I see that it was probably wrong.”

“You don’t care?”

“I wouldn’t mind being exiled to the North with Grisha,” he smiled. “Or anywhere else, for that matter. And you know that I don’t care for things. I can do without property. Worse comes to worse, I’ll turn to gambling properly, since I’m too old to sell myself.”

Mark hit him again. “Don’t even joke about that, you fool.”

“We could build and run an orgy hall,” Vasya grinned as he sat up, moaning in pain immediately, but still smiling. “Between the four of us, it would be the most amazing Orgy Hall Bosilke has ever seen.”

He laughed. He could believe that. Ekaterina would decorate it, Vasya would be in charge of catering and finances, Grisha would make sure that no trouble ever happened between customers, and he would make sure everyone’s desires were satisfied. He was not the biggest pervert in Bosilke for nothing! 

“Who would give us the capital to start it?”

“The Guards. Grisha’s men. I could raise money through my gambling habit.”

He snorted. Yes, he could definitely believe that. 

“And if he executes us, then we’re dead, and no one and nothing can hurt us,” Vasya smiled. “We will be fine, Cousin,” he said, leaning against him.

Mark hugged him. “I hope so. Although, now that you mentioned it, I kind of like the idea of running an Orgy Hall. We would be so good at it.”

“Oh, yes, we would be.” Mark’s carriage started slowing down. When it stopped, Vasya smiled at him. “We will manage,” he told him brightly. 

“We will,” he agreed, because he wanted to believe it and because Vasya looked like shit. He couldn’t dishearten him. 

One of the Guards opened the door for him. Behind him, Mark could see another of the Guards, a man as tall as his cousin, with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes. 

“Nikita?” Vasya asked him. “What happened? What is the matter?”

Nikita smiled sweetly. “I came to see if you needed any help, Sir.”

“I’m…”

“Yes, he does,” Mark cut him off, grinning. “You can barely stand, so be a good boy and let that nice Guard take care of you.”

Vasya glared at him. “I’m…”

“Nikita,” Elik grinned at them. “Can I help you with something?”

“I came to see if the Captain needs any help,” he repeated seriously. 

“How wonderful,” Elik smiled with enthusiasm. “He does. I’m sorry, Vasya, but you look like you’re about to fall over. Nikita, that is so kind of you.”

Mark smiled. It seemed like his cousin was right to trust in Elik. He would support them against Nikolaj. Perhaps they really would manage to weather the storm that he felt was coming. 

He stepped out of the carriage and helped Vasya down. Nikita immediately moved next to him and offered him his arm.

Vasya glared at it.

“He is a very bad patient, isn’t he?” Elik told Mark, obviously trying not to smile. 

Mark nodded, smirking. He really was. 

“Maybe we should ask Peter the Tall to carry him. What do you think? Chancellor? Nikita?”

Mark grinned. Yes, Elik was definitely their friend and ally, and had forgiven Vasya his lying by omission. 

Vasya huffed. “Fine. You can help me, when I need help,” he said to Nikita. 

Nikita ignored his words, and took Vasya’s arm. “You can lean on me, Captain.”

“Why are you making such a fuss over such a small injury? You are over-reacting, all of you,” he mumbled. 

Elik sighed. “Maybe…” 

He was cut off by singing at the far end of their procession. Women singing but also some of the Guards. He could tell. 

Elik seemed entranced by the sound. 

“What is it?”

“My people,” he smiled. “My Quhjani people,” he clarified a moment later. “My Guards, and their Quhjani relatives.” He looked like he was trying to find a way to explain who was singing in a manner that wouldn’t insult anyone.

“Our people,” Vasya told him, staring at Elik with conviction that what he said was true, and Elik looked back at him gratefully and with delight. 

Mark decided to think more about what he was seeing later. “But what are they singing?” he asked them.

“Oh,” Elik smiled, “they are calling upon the Ancestral Spirits to punish those who tried to hurt me, and hurt Vasya.”

“That’s witchcraft,” Mark gasped. “That’s punishable by law.”

“It’s an invocation. It’s a form of prayer,” Vasya told him.

“Yes,” Elik said loudly. “And I am going to join them. Chancellor? Vasya? Duke Okdranov?”

“No, thank you,” Vassily said. “I don’t want to pray to spirits.”

Elik made a dismissive gesture, as he started walking towards the end of the procession, Vasya behind him. 

“What are you doing?” Mark hissed. “You should go rest.”

“For the third time, I am fine,” he huffed. “Besides, we haven’t had any leads either at Fladd or here. I’ll pray for help to whatever spirit will listen at this point.”

Mark couldn’t argue with that.

“Maybe we can pray to Luck afterwards? All of us?” Vasya asked Elik. 

“Yes, yes. And the whole town should join us. Great idea.”

“And tomorrow morning, I have some ideas I would like to discuss with you about how to proceed from here on,” Vasya continued. 

“Already? You were supposed to be resting this afternoon, not working,” Elik chided him.

“I was resting. Ask the Chancellor.”

“That is true.” He honestly thought his cousin had been sleeping most of the time he was lying beside him. 

“I swear, you are the worst patient I have ever met,” Elik told him. “Tomorrow, we will discuss your ideas and then you will rest. I’ll make Oleg sit on you so that you won’t move.”

“Really?” Vasya asked with excitement.

Mark smirked. Ah, Vasya was right; he really was fine! They had nothing to worry about. 

&*&*

_11th of Fire Month,_

_My Wonderful Love and Sweet Darling,_

_How are you? I am well._

_One thing that I wanted to write to you yesterday but couldn’t, was that We have decided that we will create an Elite unit of Quhjani cavalry. Grim as it sounds, whoever makes it, will come with Us and form the unit of Our Special and Elite Imperial Horse Guards, with the right to address Us as freely as they wish. They can even swear at Us. I am sending you the decree with this letter._

_I know, you will say that I am taking men away from precious Jedlowa, but Darling, We need men that are honest and loyal, and who are good at riding. Darling, they really are the best horsemen I have seen in years. I want them to train Our Cavalry and make it better._

_Seeing them has made me think of Luck a lot. I am not lying when I say this; if you had a better General Commander at Kiskun, you could have won, even with your lack of the most modern weapons. Our lives would have been so different if you had kept your independence then – everyone’s lives, but ours too._

_I know I had told you that I was at that battle. One thing I haven’t told you is this. I hope it will not bring up too many bad memories for you. I know you were injured there (and, if you were here, I would hold you and kiss your scar over and over to prove to you that I do not mean to hurt you with my words – it’s just a memory, after all)._

_I was watching the battle unfold, and I will not lie, at the time I was getting irritated because two of your riders were causing quite some trouble for me. I knew it was a matter of time before they were killed, since they were two of them against a unit of twenty, still, they refused to surrender and continued fighting. I was even thinking of sending reinforcements, since they seemed determined to take down as many of my men as they could before they died, when the horse of the one who was at the front slipped. I couldn’t see what happened with him for a moment, but I saw his companion leaping over a group of soldiers, reach down and pull him up before riding back to your camp. I was so impressed by that feat, and his control over his horse, that I gave the order for my men to leave them alone and not pursue them._

_What brave men, I had thought then, and how unlucky to have such an idiot commander who couldn’t see a trap open ahead of him. But this time, My Love, such brave men will be under my command. My sight is better, I dare say, and, believe me, My Love, I will do my best to protect Our brave Quhjani riders. They are too valuable an asset to waste._

_I need to remember to ask if Major Kamenski knows who these two were. It would be nice to have such men fight for me. Or maybe you know? Does that story sound familiar? I know that, if that happened among my men, everyone would know their names by the end of the day._

_Enough of that!_

_We are moving forward tomorrow before dawn. My Love, we just need Luck, you know. I hope you are offering incense for Us. Please do._

_Your loving Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the next chapters will be short, since everyone will just be riding and riding and riding without much happening - unless I actually start trying to write battles, but I am not sure if I want to go there (reading military history is one thing; writing battles quite another, even if they are written in the form of reports only)
> 
> Also, Nikolaj's memory of the battle of K? That had been in the back of my head from the very first chapter of the first story, because I was thinking how funny/strange/fascinating would it be, if they had seen each other in battle (Elik catches a glimpse of N as he charges through, and N watches his whole rescue - but of course they are at a great distance, E has a type of light helmet on, so they don't recognise each other when they meet again at the Hall for the ritual) and the only reason E is alive is because N had been moved by what he had seen. But, of course, it didn't fit anywhere in the first, the second, or the third story..... (I was planning to have it in story 2, where N is fighting Oerestand but that story didn't go as I wanted it and so it didn't fit there either).


	59. Chapter 59

12th 

“How beautiful is Motherland,” Maxim croaked once they passed the stone marker that declared the border of their Empire.

Sila glared at him. “Maxim, can’t you keep your mouth shut for more than an hour?” 

Maxim stuck his tongue out at Sila, and grinned. 

“Oh, Brother,” Sila chuckled. 

“We are home,” Maxim whispered with a wide grin. “Home.” No more fear of being followed by the King’s men. Oh, wait! “What if they follow us into the Empire?”

Sila grinned. “Then, we run! Catch me if you can, Brother,” he laughed as he forced his horse into a mad gallop.

I will, Maxim thought, but knew better than to shout. He spurred his horse and followed Sila. 

They were home and they were still on a mission. 

How wonderful to be in Motherland!

&*&*

Vasily looked down at his wound. It hurt a lot for such a small thing. And that ointment stank, but it seemed to be working well. 

“So far, so good,” Dr Van den Berg said as he started wrapping fresh bandages around him. 

“Good.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something for the pain?”

As if he would willingly put that wretched oil of poppy into his body. He’d seen what happened to people who had used it a little too often. “If I needed it, I would have asked for it. If all goes well, in how many days will it heal?”

“A few weeks.”

“Weeks?” 

“My patient, you must be patient,” the doctor laughed at him. 

He had work; he had no time to be patient. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, forgetting that it made his wound hurt with a sharp, sudden pain that went well with the constant throbbing he felt from it. “I will try,” he said once it had lessened. 

“You must be, not try to be,” he told him seriously. 

“Fine,” he nodded. “Are you finished? I have work to do.”

“Yes,” Dr Van den Berg said in an annoyed tone. He handed his case to his assistant and stood up. “Same instructions as yesterday.”

“No weights, no sudden moves, no wetness.”

Dr Van den Berg nodded. “Exactly. So, follow them this time.” He gave him another nod and left the room. 

Vasily closed his eyes. As if he had thrown up whatever he didn’t have in his stomach on purpose, just so he could have the pleasure of new sutures. That hadn’t been fun at all. 

“Sir?”

“Yes, Yusta?” He opened his eyes and smiled at his orderly. 

Yusta had his shirt in his arms and was staring at him with concern. “I have finished packing. Do you require assistance?”

“No, I can manage,” he said, reaching for the shirt with his right hand. He’d rather dress himself; he knew how much he could move his left arm without making the pain from the wound so bad, that it made him want to scream. “But,” he said, feeling really uncomfortable to be asking this, “I do need help with the kittens.” 

All four of them had been up earlier, were delighted to see that he was awake, begged for food, played for an hour, and slept after he’d fed them. The moment Dr Van den Berg had arrived, thought, they decided that a new person in the room was too exciting an event to miss and they had woken up again. At that moment, he could only see two of them, the black-and-white one trying to climb up the curtains and one of the black ones was in the middle of the bed, chasing its tail. He could hear the other two, though, running under the bed and, every now and then, he’d see them dart between the furniture chasing each other. 

Yusta hid his grin behind his hand. “Of course, Sir.” 

“Thank you.” He put on his shirt carefully under Yusta’s gaze, and then accepted the coat from his hands. “Thank you,” he said again as he got up. “I will see you after breakfast.”

“Yes, Sir. And I will apprehend all the troublemakers and put them in confinement, Sir,” Yusta grinned. 

He laughed and it hurt so badly, but it was kind of funny. “They are such troublemakers,” he told him when he could. They were amusing and cute and could only stay still when they slept. “Thank you.”

He picked up his papers, went out of his room, and nodded at Igor and Prokop. At that moment, the door of His Majesty’s room opened. “Vasya,” His Majesty said, looking at him with worry. “Did you get any rest?”

“As much as I could, Your Majesty,” he told him honestly. 

“I see. Then, let’s discuss your ideas now, so you can rest afterwards.”

“Thank you, Sire.”

He knocked on Mark’s door. 

Mark opened it a few moments later. He was still putting on his shirt and Vasily tried hard not to notice the two big lumps under the covers, or all the clothes that were thrown on the floor and the pairs of boots by the door. “His Majesty and I need to go over some ideas about our progress to the Capital. Can you join us?”

“Give me five minutes, and I will find you downstairs.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

With a yawn, Mark closed the door behind him. 

He knocked on it again. “Filon, Artyom?” he shouted. “Notify His Grace, Duke Okdranov, and Count Rasoulin about our meeting, please.”

His Majesty chuckled. “That was mean.”

“No, that was efficient,” he smiled. They were billeted in a different house, after all. 

His Majesty shook his head, still grinning. “Wait, I forgot something.” He ran back to his room, and came out moments later with the folder with his papers in his hands. “Ready.”

Ten minutes later, they had commandeered the Mayor’s study, he was on his second cup of tea, and the map of Bosilke was spread out on the desk. “We are here,” he told them as he put a teaspoon down on the town of Stovin. “As we are, we will reach Nazgorod by lunchtime.” He put down a second teaspoon.

Mark nodded.

“I propose breaking the train up. Your Majesty, Your Graces, Your Excellency, and your staff will ride ahead with an escort of sixty Guards. The rest of the Guards will escort their families, and the baggage back to the Capital.”

“Why not forty Guards with us and the rest with the …rest?” His Majesty asked him.

“Because, you need six different Guards per day as it is, and I want you to have more from now on. I need enough men for all the shifts. Sixty is the minimum I need.”

“I will have more Guards?” His Majesty’s expression was between surprise and annoyance.

“It will be just four, just like it was at Aedley.”

“Ah, fine then.”

“But in a different formation. And they will have another ten escorting them.”

“But…”

“Your Majesty, you asked me to figure out how you can continue your procession back, and do it in a way that will keep you safe. I don’t know how else to do it, except by providing you with added security for now. Later, there will be more measures, but they will take a bit of time to implement.”

“He is right,” Okdranov said, surprising him. “You must be seen, but you must be safe.” 

“What other measures?” Mark asked him as His Majesty thought about it.

“I had been talking to Stepan about how to change the windows in my carriage, and then I thought, what if we had an armoured carriage? So, last night, I went to talk to him about it and he thinks it can be done.”

“How did you go from windows to armoured carriages? How can that even work?” Count Rasoulin asked him.

“The carriage door windows are in a case that is inserted between two sheets of wood, and Stepan had suggested that if the whole door were modified so that the case for the windows went further down, then we could have windows that slide up and down, and can be secured up with a hook and loop system, or something like that.” He grinned. “Vanya suggested we add a rail for hanging knitted curtains.”

Only His Majesty got his joke and grinned back, while the others looked at him curiously. Oh, well. “They would be like the new style windows at Aedley, only they slid left and right. So, if there can be sliding glass between sheets of wood, what if there were metal plate between them? I am still trying to figure out what to do with the windows, though.”

His Majesty stared at him. “Wait. Last night? You were supposed to be resting.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Work had proven a good distraction from the pain. Better than reading, though worse than taking care of the kittens.

Okdranov nodded. “We have been conducting experiments to see the range and impact of some new artillery since His Majesty decided on this war. We can work together on examining the right thickness of metal plate to protect His Majesty not from artillery, but firearms.”

“Thank you,” he smiled at the man gratefully.

“Brilliant idea,” Mark grinned.

“Maybe our engineers can also come up with a solution for the windows. His Majesty needs to be visible, but safe.”

He nodded. 

“You mentioned ‘measures’. What else did you have in mind?” Mark asked again. 

“Chainmail.”

“What?” they all asked him.

“It worked for hundreds of years. Why not now? Only…” He turned towards His Majesty. “You will need to wear Quhjani-style robes. There is no way to hide a chainmail shirt under that coat. Unless you want to look weirdly bulky.”

His Majesty stared at him shocked. Vasily felt that he couldn’t decide if he was annoyed that he’d have to wear chainmail, or happy that he could wear the Quhjani-style clothes in which he felt comfortable. 

“You are paranoid,” Okdranov snorted with a grin.

He shrugged. Yes, he was. 

His Majesty stared at him. He seemed to have decided on what he thought, and he looked pleased. “You are right, I asked for this. We approve of your suggestions. How fast will we move if it’s just us and sixty of the Guards?”

“We should be at Krasjvod by lunch time,” he said as he moved the spoon several towns past Nazgorod, “and to the Capital by the 21st of this month.” If they skipped lunches they would be there faster, but Mark and Okdranov were right; His Majesty needed to show that he had His Majesty’s favour.

Someone’s stomach grumbled.

His Majesty laughed. “That was me. I think we should stop with the work part, move to the food part of the morning and join the Mayor and his family at the dining room. Chancellor, Your Excellency, can you stay for a few more minutes?” 

Mark and he nodded, while Okdranov and Count Rasoulin left after bowing. 

The moment they were alone, His Majesty opened his folder. “I wrote to His Majesty last night and I also wrote these.” He gave them a paper each. 

He read it quickly. 

“Do you think it will work?” His Majesty asked them.

Mark shrugged. “It should, but one never knows.” 

“Let’s hope it does, then,” he told them, “because I don’t know what else might.”

Vasily folded it and put it in his pocket. “I agree. Let’s hope.” 

Hope was what they had, and Luck was what they needed. He would offer incense to both when they prayed before their departure. 

&*&*

Vanya hugged Roman. “You will tell my parents how wonderful Sana is.”

“I will, Cousin. I am certain they will love her when they meet her.”

“I hope so.”

Vanya let him go and hugged Stepan next. “Look at you, Cousin-in-law. By the time we meet at the Capital, you will have been officially recruited by the Engineers Corps.”

Stepan blushed. “I just said how to change windows for the Captain’s carriage. I haven’t done anything yet.”

Vanya released him. “And now the Captain wants you to make metal plates for His Majesty’s carriage. I am looking forward to see what this new carriage will look like.”

Stepan looked at Roman. “He really meant it that I will have my own workshop?”

Roman nodded. 

Vanya grinned. “I am so proud of you, Cousin.” He hugged Stepan once more. “I will look after your Mother and Granny, because they are my family too, Stepan. So, go and do us all proud, without worries.”

“Thank you.” He squirmed out of Vanya’s embrace. “I’ll go say goodbye to Mama again.” He ran to the wagon where his family was.

Vanya laughed. “He’s a smart one, but a bit shy. You know it’s because of his Mama, right? She is scary.”

Roman nodded. “You will take care of her, right? And Granny Fenya?”

“Of course. Sana and I will both take care of them. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, see you at the Capital, Cousin.”

“See you at the Capital. Have a safe journey.”

Vanya smiled. “You too. And be safe, in general.” Roman would need his wishes more than he did. He was going to be traveling with His Majesty, whom someone had attacked twice! Who knew when the wicked sons of whores would make an attempt on his life again?

Thrice-cursed whoresons! If Vanya ever got his hands on them, they would see what a Guard could do. Their whole bodies were weapons! And His Majesty’s Shields! 

After they prayed to Luck, he would get all the Quhjani to invoke the Ancestral Spirits again. Two invocations would work better than one, right? He ran to the wagon where Granny Fenya and Stepan’s mother were. They were the first to agree to his idea the night before; they would help him today as well, he was certain of it.

&*&*

_Somewhere, 12th of Fire Month,_

_My Heart, My Husband, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you?_

_I am well. I really am._

_V is taking Us back home as fast as possible. The baggage train, all non-essential personnel, the married Guards and their relatives, as well as a few more Guards are traveling at their own pace, while we are moving fast. Just in case, and following V’s advice, We have commanded a hundred men from the 14th Regiment that is stationed at Krasjvod (where we stopped for lunch) to escort them.  
Already we are further ahead than I expected when we started this journey. _

_V has also changed the formation of the Guards around me. I feel surrounded by a human wall, two at the front, two at the back, four at each side, and one ahead and one further back, closing the gap between the two right in front and behind me. It is a bit excessive, but I trust his judgement. He says this new formation will be temporary, until my chainmail shirt is made._

_I think he also wanted me to wear a chainmail headdress, but even the Chancellor thought that was excessive._

_What I am trying to write is that V is taking all measures he can think of to keep me safe, and I am certain that he is trying hard to think of more. He is not even getting enough rest, so hard he is trying to keep me safe that he is not thinking of his own health._

_Husband, he really needs to be rewarded for his loyalty. I know We rewarded him almost two weeks ago for his services during the trip, but I do not feel these honours were adequate. He would have died for me, Nikolaj. If you have any ideas, please let me know._

_Your devoted Husband,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. V wants me to have an armoured carriage! I am really curious to see that!_

Elik sighed. How he hoped that a whole page full of Vasya’s loyal services would make his Husband understand how important Vasya was to him. Mark would be fine; he was Nikolaj’s best friend, after all. They shared everything, even him! Mark would be forgiven. But Vasya? 

&*&*

_Vilby, 12th of Fire Month,_

_My Darling, how are you?_

_I finally received your letter of the 3rd of this month (incredibly, one of the couriers GOT LOST!) and I am really curious to find out what G will manage to uncover. You must let me know as soon as you know! I made a bet that at the bottom of the story is a woman. I think it’s a story about passion and forbidden love: Cunning Francis has fallen in love with Anton’s fiancée and has concocted this story in order to get her! Major Kamenski, who lacks any imagination, says that it really is about politics and that Anton revolted against his father._

_My Love, I met that boy! I talked to that boy! He loves his country and believes in honour! He would never do such a thing, like take up arms against his father!_

_(did you see how many exclamation marks I used there? You are such a bad influence on my letter writing, my Love! first capitals, then exclamation marks – what is next? I am only joking, my Sweet!)_

_I am well. We are moving forward at a swift pace. I am writing to you from the town of Vilby, which we took with almost no resistance._

_I can happily report: NO casualties!_

_Your ever-loving, but right now tired and sleepy Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

&*&* 

13th 

Evgeni was surprised that Michal was the first among them to sigh with relief when they were finally across the borders. And what a fitting time. The dawn was just breaking, painting everything a delicate pink gold among the deeper blue. 

“How beautiful is Motherland,” Evgeni whispered as he looked at the wide, open plains and the forests spreading at a distance. 

“What?” Michal asked him. 

He translated it for him. 

“I see. Motherland is always beautiful,” Michal said. “But life is better, no matter where you are.”

Evgeni smiled. He agreed whole-heartedly. 

“With your permission,” Valery shouted as he approached the Major. 

“Yes, Valery.” 

“Any personal messages for the Captain, Sir?”

The Major snorted. “No. You know what to tell him.” He took out a small box. “But give him this.” He grinned as he handed it to Valery carefully. That must have been the cameos! “You are all such sentimental young men. How admirable.”

Valery nodded as he put it in his satchel.

“Travel swiftly and safely, Brother,” Carel told him. 

“May Luck be with you, Brother,” Evgeni said. 

“Thank you. May Luck be with you, Brothers! Until we meet again,” he shouted and waved at them as he rode towards the Capital. 

The Major looked at him proudly. “Gentlemen,” he told them. “I think it’s time our young friend gets a good look at his new home.”

Evgeni raised an eyebrow. 

“What did he say? Why did Lerik leave? Where is he going? Evgeni?”

“We are going to introduce you to Bosilke, kid,” the Major grinned. “And proper Quhjani breakfast! Tomatoes, and cheese, and omelette! The closest village is thirty minutes away, Gentlemen. Race you there!” Before they could reply, the Major spurred his horse. 

Laughing, Carel followed him.

“We are racing to a tavern,” Evgeni laughed. His poor horse would never keep up with theirs, not while carrying two. “And we will lose, Michal. You know what I think that means?”

“No?”

“The Major will buy us breakfast to make us feel good about losing!” At least, that was what the Captain would do, and he suspected that the Major would do the same. Which was so weird, because they had been in the maddest hurry to leave Ustvela, yet now the Major wanted to delay their journey? He had no idea what was going on, anymore. 

Forty minutes later, Evgeni grinned at Michal. “Told you,” he whispered as they dismounted, and he tied his horse to the post where Carel was waiting for them. “We lost.”

Michal smiled. 

“What took you so long? Come.” Carel guided them to a table outside an inn. “The Major went to order food.” He grinned. “He had to bang on the door to get the owner to open the inn for us, but he did!”

A few of minutes later, the Major came out with a teapot and cups on a tray. “I already miss coffee,” he told them as he put it down. “I also got extra milk, in case someone preferred that to tea.”

He must have meant Michal, Evgeni smiled. And he had been right. Michal filled his cup with milk, and added a few drops of tea only. 

“I ordered everything they had, and they just started the kitchen fires, so it will take a bit before our food is ready. Breakfast is on me. It’s bad enough that you lost,” he continued, drinking his tea between every two words. “So, the food will be late, but the inn-keeper said that the bakery is open already, so…” he put down an empty cup. “Michal, do you want to join me as we go to the bakery to get some fresh bread? I wonder if they have flatbreads. They are delicious.”

Michal finished his milk in one gulp and stood up. “Yes, Sir.”

The Major patted Michal on the shoulder. “Great. Do you want anything from the bakery? No idea if they will have it, but I can ask.”

They both shook their heads. 

“Come on, kid, let’s find that bakery.”

The moment they were further away, Carel sighed deeply. “We don’t have much time, so I will give you the very brief version of what you missed. Whenever I can tell you the long version, I will.”

Evgeni nodded. From his discussions with Michal, he had understood how lucky they were to be given so much information. Even the short version would be considered too long a version at Ustvela. “I’m listening.”

Carel grimaced. “So…”

By the time Carel had finished, Evgeni was horrified and worried in equal measure. “How will he do that?”

“I have no idea. But…”

Evgeni shook his head. “I can see them.” 

What a mad scheme this was! But compared to war, a mad scheme was better!

&*&*

Yusta put down the basket with the kittens in the corner. “They have grown so much in a week, Sir,” he said admiringly, peeking under the cover.

“Yes, they have. Yusta, thank you.”

Yusta turned to face him. He was grinning. “This is also part of my duties, Sir. It is nice being able to perform them for a change.” He got out of the carriage, saluted him and went to the front. 

He smiled. He supposed that Yusta had a point. His duties did include taking care of his things, as well as driving his carriage when he used one, and running errands. Taking care of the kittens was his job, though, entrusted to him by Grisha. At least he knew that Grisha would understand that he did need help with them these days. 

At least he didn’t need help playing with them! He’d give His Majesty his homework, and go back to his – and the kittens.

Ilya knocked on the carriage door and opened it for him a second later. 

“Vasily, Vasya?” His Majesty smiled. “You have come to ride with me? Mark said he must discuss things with Duke Okdranov, and…” He paused. “I don’t feel like working today,” he whispered, his expression naughty. 

He smiled back. “I am afraid that I do have work to do, and, I am even more afraid that I have come to give you an assignment.”

“Really? What?”

“You asked to make an Entrance at the Capital, right? I presume, you want to sing the Coming Home song?”

Elik nodded with excitement. “Yes, how did you guess?”

He smiled. It wasn’t that difficult. He didn’t say that, though. “It is a good song, and very appropriate, but, Sire, the Bosilik will not appreciate all the lyrics about the blood, death, and spirits.”

“Yes, I think you are right. Did you notice that Duke Okdranov refused to pray to Our Ancestral Spirits for two days in a row? I am tempted to ask the Guards to invoke them today as well, since he is being so stubborn.”

He grinned. There was Elik’s childish mischief coming to the fore again. “He is uncomfortable, Sire. We are not used to such words.”

“But you got used to them. Very easily, I may add.”

He was weird and strange and married to someone who was just as strange and weird as he was, he wanted to say, but didn’t. “Not everyone is the same, Elik,” he said softly. “For some people, change comes easily, for others with difficulty, and for some, never.”

“Yes, I know what you mean. I will give Duke Okdranov some time to get used to changes, then. Because things will change.”

How he hoped so! They smiled. “Still, I think people in the Capital will appreciate the Coming Home song if there are fewer mentions to the dead.”

Elik studied him. “Vasya, the Coming Home song refers to what we hold sacred. Our Motherland, and sacrificing our lives for it. How can I change it for the Bosilik without really knowing what you hold so dear that you would die for it?”

He wanted to go back to his list, not discuss sacrifice. “You did it with the Under One Banner song.”

“Her Grace, Lady Ekaterina helped me a lot with that. In my opinion, we both wrote it.”

“I see.” 

“So, will you ride with me and help me change the words?”

“Of course, Sire.” He could work on his list of duties later. Or maybe he could just throw that list away and make his life easier. His duties were to keep His Majesty safe and solve his problems. There! 

He still felt that his tasks were not well-defined, though, and far too numerous for just one person to handle. But he would manage, he thought as he climbed up and joined Elik. 

He always did. 

And by the time Grisha returned home, the kittens would be grown, and the cherry trees would be planted, summer would be drawing to a close, and they could start getting ready for winter. Oh, how wonderful it was to be home with Grisha in the winter! 

“What are you thinking?”

“Grisha.”

Elik smiled. “I too miss Nikolaj. Do we have to work? I really don’t want to,” he said, sounding like a spoilt child. “Can’t we write the words later?”

“The sooner we write them, the sooner the Choir can learn them.”

“Yes, you are right,” he said miserably. 

“That said, if you are not in the mood for writing, you will just stare at the paper and nothing will come out. Perhaps we should do something else.”

Elik nodded happily. “Yes. Perhaps we can play cards? Vasya, why do you play cards when you lose so much? I remember how often you would say that you had lost at cards during our trip, and you have lost almost all of our games. In your place, I would have stopped playing ages ago.”

He chuckled. “I play cards to watch people, not to win, and I lose when I am teaching. It is not good for a student’s morale to be beaten by his teacher.”

“Oh. So, you mean, you let me win?”

He smiled, neither confirming, nor denying it. 

“Prove it,” Elik said seriously, challenging him with his determined expression as he took out the deck. “If you win ten games in a row, we will work on the Coming Home song. But if you lose even one game, then… you will give me the recipe for your pancakes!”

Vasily grinned. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

&*&*

_13th of Fire Month,_

_My Darling,_

_How are you?_

_I am well! We left Vilby this morning and proceeded through quiet, sleepy villages that offered no resistance. And, I found out why! Old George used to come here for hunting every year, bringing Queen Adelaide with him. Apparently, the Lady is not great at hunting, but she was always very generous with everyone, and has built schools and nurseries out of her own expenses. The people here love her and raised their glass with Us to the good health of little Augie, his mother, and her unborn child._

_I do not understand why there has been no movement from Fredrik’s army, though. Does he not take my campaign seriously? Does he think that I will grow bored of the quaint little villages and the forests and go home? How odd!_

_At least, with this state of things, I can happily report today as well: NO casualties!_

_Your ever-loving Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. OR, is he trying to lay a trap further ahead? I must send a recon team at once! MY LOVE, YOU ARE ALWAYS SO INSPIRING!!!! HOW I LOVE YOU!_

&*&*

14th 

_Somewhere, 14th of Fire Month,_

_My Heart, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_I hope you are well!_

_We are still traveling as fast as we can, while also fulfilling Our Duty to listen to Our people’s problems and concerns. We are noting everything that needs to be solved, since We do not have the staff to actually solve problems here. I can’t wait to go home and WORK!_

_My only news is that V made me pancakes for breakfast this morning in order to console me for crushing me at cards yesterday. I admit it! I was quite upset yesterday because HE IS A STRONG PLAYER! But this morning, I woke up determined to become a better player. And to steal his recipe! Because, clearly, he will never give it to me, so I must take it by stealth!_

_I miss you so much, Husband, and I WISH for your SUCCESS AT THE FRONT!_

_Your loyal and loving Husband,_

_Your Elik_

&*&*

“That’s them,” Sila shouted. 

Maxim nodded at the sight of the Guards and spurred his horse on. “Your turn to catch me if you can, Brother,” he laughed. 

He could hear Sila behind him riding just as madly as he did, and in front of him he could see the baggage train and the Guards with their Quhjani relatives. There were also the hundred soldiers from the 14th Regiment that had been sent to provide them with extra support and protection, as they had told them at the previous stops. 

He forced his horse to go faster and, out of curiosity, he whistled loudly as he rode near them in the way that Sila had taught him. Friends approaching! 

Three whistles answered back. We are waiting! 

He wondered who these three were. No, there was one more whistle from further ahead. The Major’s men were everywhere, and even if they weren’t there, they had friends who, like Sila, had taught this way of communicating to their friends. The Guards’ network, extended though it was, seemed modest compared to what the Major had created.

Soon, he saw them slowing down, giving him the chance to catch up with them, and two Guards approached them.

“Brothers,” Onisim shouted happily and with great excitement.

Ignat waved at them. 

They slowed down as well, giving their horses a chance to cool down a little. 

“Hello,” Maxim greeted them.

“What happened to your voice?”

Maxim lowered his shirt collar and showed them the bruises around his neck. “Someone tried to strangle me,” he grinned. “But he failed, and I killed him!”

Onisim and Ignat stared at him awed. 

Sila whistled. Food.

Several whistled back, Yes! 

The ‘yes’ whistle was the easiest to learn, but Maxim was impressed at how really big the Major’s network was. 

Onisim and Ignat turned their horses around, and moved to the left and right, creating an opening for Maxim and Sila to ride between them. 

“You have heard the news, right? That His Majesty and the Captain are riding ahead? Because someone tried to kill the Young Lord!” Onisim said, sounding as horrified as if the attempt on the Young Lord’s life had happened hours earlier.

They nodded. “Yes, and that the Captain got injured. How is he? Is he well?”

Ignat grinned. “Yes, but he is the grumpiest patient you can imagine.”

“Him, grumpy? The Captain was the calmest and most even-tempered person he knew! 

Both Onisim and Ignat nodded with obvious amusement. “Very grumpy. He even swore at Doctor Van den Berg!”

“Ah, I am sorry to have missed that,” Sila laughed. 

“And he keeps saying he is fine, and keeps working, when he should be resting,” Ignat added with a frustrated sigh. “Every day, each courier that brings the Young Lord’s daily letter to His Majesty tells us the same story. I wish the Major were back; he could probably get him to rest. When is he coming back?”

“He should be a day or two behind us,” Maxim said. “But we have news, and we need to share them with all of Us Special Guards. Do you think we can have lunch on our own today?”

“You mean, without the escorts and the families?”

“Yes,” Sila said emphatically. 

“We can do that.”

Sila and Maxim grinned. Perfect. 

An hour later, all forty of them were gathered in a circle under the shade of three mighty oak trees near the village of Aski, where they had asked their families and the other soldiers to stop for lunch. While they ate, Maxim told them everything about his horrible encounter with that beastly assassin and showed them his bruises, although, as they had decided with Sila, he did not tell them about the encounter with the King’s Men. That was for the Captain’s ears only. 

“So,” he finished telling his adventure as he took out his notebook, “does this man remind you of anyone?” He gave it to Onisim and he passed it to Ignat after he had taken a good look at the drawing. 

“No, but he is not your type,” Daniel said curiously after he studied it. “Why did you follow him?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I needed a change.” Maxim frowned. “Do you think it means I want to settle down?”

Everyone started laughing. Sila, who was sitting next to him, hit him on the back lightly, and muttered, “Don’t be stupid.”

“Maxim, I don’t think the man who can make you settle down exists,” Afanasy laughed. 

“Unless he’s one of those nobles from Thur-and-Foire, the ones with the ten or twelve after their names,” Luca grinned. 

“Yes, you could be fucking ten titles all at once with one of them,” Vanya agreed.

“I haven’t fucked one of them yet,” Maxim thought out loud. Wait, there was Ferdinand. Did he count?

“See?”

Ferdinand definitely counted, and he had more than twelve titles after his name! “Actually…” he said at the same time as Sila, and they grinned. 

Samuil raised his hand. “He looks like the coachman that the Fladd Ambassador had hired the day we arrived, and who was having an affair with his Cook. You know who I mean. The thrice-cursed son of a whore who tried to poison our Young Lord,” he said, spitting on the ground.

Maxim and Sila froze. “Really?” Sila asked. 

“Definitely. This one has a broken nose, but the eyes, the mouth and the eyebrows are very similar to that coachman’s.”

“Did he have an accent? Did anyone of you hear him?”

Izot waved at them. “I did. I overheard him giving directions to one of the palaces with an important art collection to Yusta, the Captain’s orderly.”

“And?”

“I’m not…” He frowned. “No, wait. He did. I am not sure if he sounded Ustvelan, but he definitely had an accent.” 

Samuil threw him the notebook. “Did he look like him?”

Izot studied it. “Yes, he did.” He threw the notebook to Ernst, who was sitting next to Samuil. 

“Hm. Family resemblance is a funny thing” Ernst said as he looked at the drawing and shook his head before passing it to Vlas. 

“True, even among brother and sister. One look at the Young Lord and you know that Lady Irina is his sister,” Vlas said. “Their eyes are the same.”

Yuri shook his head. “The Young Lord has grey eyes.”

“Not the colour, the shape. And they have the same mouth,” Vlas continued. 

“And they glare in the same way.”

“That’s because Her Excellency has learned it from the Young Lord,” Sila said.

“Yes, I can believe that.”

“So, what’s next?” Onisim asked them. 

“We’ll continue until we meet with the Captain,” Sila replied for both of them. 

“I really hope he’s well,” Gleb sighed. 

They all nodded, looking worried. 

It really was strange thinking that the Captain was hurt. “The Major is following behind us. He will take care of him,” Maxim reassured them.

“He’s very good at taking care of his men,” Sila said. “So, it goes without saying that he will take very good care of his man.”

Vanya guffawed. “Was that a joke?” 

Sila glared at him. “Yes? It’s the truth.”

“You could travel with us until nightfall,” Ignat suggested, clearly wanting to change the discussion. 

“No, we need to reach the Captain as soon as possible.” Maxim smiled. “I bet that hearing news of the Major will cheer him up.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Gleb shouted at them. “Eat up and get back on the road!”

&*&*

_14th of Fire Month,_

_My Darling,_

_How are you? I am well!_

_I received your letter of the 5th and I was very happy to read it. You must be on your way home by now, aren’t you?_

_I wonder if G is back from Ustvela by now – you haven’t forgotten that I want to know as soon as you know, right?_

_Here, we are moving forward without any problems. My recon team did not see any signs of a trap, so this is all very strange!_

_Another day with NO casualties!_

_Your ever-loving and tired Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

&*&*

15th 

_On the move, 15th of Fire Month,_

_My Most Precious,_

_How are you?_

_I received your letter of the 6th of this month and, I was surprised. No theatre? I understand your reasoning, though, and I agree that you are right._

_I am well. Still moving forward without any resistance. Curious, isn’t it?_

_This is the first time this has ever happened to me. Don’t they know we are at war?_

_Your loving and confused Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. I shouldn’t expect any almond cookies until you are back at Ivanhof, right?_

&*&*

_Jedlowa, 16th of Fire Month,_

_My Dear Friend,_

_I am well, and I am hoping the same for you!_

_After receiving your letter of the 7th of this month, I have searched our house, our storage rooms, and every other place I could think of in our Estates. I even had the haystacks and the chicken coop checked! I also asked not only the Alexeyevs, but everyone else as well, since if they have proof of their nobility, but we don’t, then surely that means that we managed to lose it somewhere, right?_

_I did find two things that I am sending to you with this letter, but – are these the kind of things you meant? The first is Eli’s toy sword! It looks like a big dagger, doesn’t it? I found it in one of the storage rooms, and Eli may remember more about it. It is old, though, really old. I also remember that I was not allowed to play with it, even though Eli had stopped using it, because it was only for the first-born sons (or, if they died, the second-born, and so on – but only FOR SONS!). What a stupid rule, don’t you think?_

_The second thing is also old and it is a necklace. At least Mother allowed me to play with this one. I found it around the neck of one of my dolls and, when I found it, I remembered what Mother would say about it: that Elik’s wife would have it, but I could also wear it on my wedding day. So… I guess no one gets it now? Maybe Eli can give it to Nikolaj, or he can keep it for himself, since he’s both a wife and the first-born…_

_Sometimes, it is confusing having a brother who is a wife. Do you have a brother who is also a wife? Or… are you or your husband really a wife? Is that confusing for you? I am so confused!_

_Also, why does the first-born and his wife get all the good stuff? Not that I want Eli’s toy sword, or that stupid necklace (you will see it, it is really ugly! Eli MUST keep it because I don’t want it), but why is there such a rule? Is it because a wife goes to someone else’s house and does not stay at her own house? I am really confused._

_I should ask Eli; he has studied Quhjani law, but if you also have any ideas, I would like to hear them._

_Let me know if this what you meant by old things. We have other old things, too, like toy horses, and cups, and really old knitted blankets and linen, so I can send these too, if you want… Actually, I will send you one of the old cups, so you can see what I mean. Let me know if you want the rest! It is a whole set, with twelve cups and a matching bowl and a big ladle. It looks like something for sharing wine among friends! This is wasted in our family! Neither I nor Elik drink, because Our Father taught us so! Grandfather did not drink either!_

_Finally, I am also sending you something Katya and I made! We both hope you will like it! And share it with Major Grigori!_

_Please accept mine and Katya’s warmest regards!_

_Your friend,_

_Irina_

_p.s. Katya would be SO HAPPY if you wrote to her…. Also? Olga too would appreciate a note from you, so, could you write to her as well? Could you? PLEASE?_

&*&

17th

Vasily smirked when he saw Mark. By that point, they didn’t even pretend they had official business. “Come in. But you will apprehend the Trouble-makers, once they start running around, because, even though I can bend, it is a little painful.”

“Trouble-makers? Is that how you call the kittens?” Mark grinned as he climbed into Vasily’s carriage. 

“Either that or Creatures Born of Chaos, when they wake me up at four.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “I like that! That’s how I will call the Regiment Cats! Red Creatures of Chaos. Thank you, Cousin.”

“You are welcome.” He made himself comfortable, and opened his notebook. How he wished he could draw; Mark looked so at ease with the kittens. “Have you figured out how to tell Ekaterina that you want cats?”

He sighed. “No. I think I’ll follow in Grisha’s footsteps and keep them in my office.”

“You have a big house. Correction, you have a big house in the Capital, a very big suite at Ivanhof, and a summer house right outside the Capital. I won’t even discuss the houses you have beyond a two-hour distance from the Capital. How can you not tell her that you want to have cats somewhere?”

“You think I should?”

“Of course. If cats make you happy, you should have them.”

“Says the person who did not have dogs for years even though they make him happy.”

“Our case is different. Grisha does not like dogs, and I do not like cats.”

“Except for the one currently on your shoulder and the one trying to get in your coat pocket?”

“These are different. These are Grisha’s.” He took the black-and-white kitten from his shoulder and offered it to Mark, while Mark picked up the black one trying to climb on him and put it in his coat pocket.

Mark grinned. “He should be back soon, right?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “Who knows, if we are lucky, he’ll meet us here and then we can go home and plant the cherry trees His Majesty gave me.”

“The cuttings haven’t died yet?”

“I am taking very good care of them.” But if they died, they died. He closed his eyes. He didn’t want them to die, though. 

When he opened his eyes, his head was on Mark’s lap. Again.

Mark smirked. “You don’t even reach for your pistol when I move you. You’re like the kittens, Vashenka. You sleep better with your family.”

By that point, he didn’t bother protesting. “Thank you,” he whispered. He didn’t know what he’d do if Mark didn’t pretend to have official business every afternoon. That seemed to be the only time he managed to get some rest. 

“Don’t mention it. We’re family.”

“Is that why you write to Sasha twice a year?”

He nodded. “I miss our childhood summers. I know time doesn’t turn back but I miss them, Vasya. The simplicity of it all. The honesty. Don’t get me wrong; I love the fucking around and the scheming and knowing everything, but sometimes, I just want everything to be simple.”

“You can always come to our house. Life doesn’t get simpler than that.”

“When you build a guest room, I will.”

Vasily grinned. 

“You do realise that you can have a big house now, right? Your title comes with lands and income from them.”

“Oh. I hadn’t had time to think of that. When Grisha is back, we will go check what we own.” If Nikolaj didn’t get their heads cut off first. He grinned. “We can keep your cats for you, and you can come visit them and us. Grisha wouldn’t mind.”

“There’s a thought. Speaking of thoughts. How does the 25th sound for a meeting between you and the other Heads of Intelligence offices? You should be all healed by then.”

“I’m…” Mark glared at him and he shut up. If he were fine, he wouldn’t be falling asleep every afternoon five minutes after Mark entered his carriage. “I will be fine by then.”

“Great. I can’t wait to see what will happen.”

“Speaking of thoughts, Duke Okdranov has invited me to the artillery tests they are conducting. I’m worried he wants to use me for target practice.”

Mark chuckled. “Will you tell him no?”

“No, of course, not. Artillery tests! I wonder if he will let me shoot things.” He sat up. “I was thinking,” he grabbed his notebook, and opened it, “where we could have mortars and howitzers at Ivanhof.”

“What?”

“Small and medium-sized … cannons, let’s say. Mortars throw shells at a higher angle,” he made a high arc to show how the shells moved, “and howitzers are better for flat terrain, and are movable.” 

“Why not cannons?”

“We could have cannons? I thought that would be too excessive. We could?” He went back to his map. “Hm.”

“And why would we need cannons?”

“To defend Ivanhof, of course. It only has forty Guards, and us Hundred. If anyone tries the same thing as Inavof, we will be screwed. Last time, it was only because His Majesty was there that nothing happened. Who knows what can happen under other circumstances. A Guard can load three rounds in two minutes, and assuming that all find their target, he can hit three men in two minutes. A mortar shell can kill more than that, so, even accounting for the longer time it takes loading it, it would be more effective. And howitzers are really awesome and you can move them, so your batteries can be more effective as they move with the battle’s flow!”

Mark studied him. “I think I’d rather discuss the logistics of an Orgy Hall, than how to make Ivanhof into a fortified castle. Didn’t you say Nikolaj wants to remake it after the palace of Sorain?”

“Oh.” He froze. “Oh, yes. Artillery wouldn’t look good in such a palace.” Ah, shame. It had been a good thought. “Maybe if we asked Lady Ekaterina to decorate them?”

Mark hugged him, laughing. “Maybe?”

He relaxed into Mark’s embrace, imagining howitzers painted pink and tied with ribbons and lace. “It would be the prettiest artillery in the world!”

Mark laughed. “If you really want to put cannons on castles, do it at the Old Palace in the Capital.”

“It already has cannons on the top tower.”

“Put up some more.”

“There’s a thought!”

&*&*

18th 

_Somewhere, 18th of Fire Month,_

_My Heart, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_I hope you are well!_

_V’s idea to divine our group was really brilliant! We are three days away from home and my heart beats so wildly in my chest! If it wasn’t for Duty, I would leave the carriages behind and just RIDE, RIDE, RIDE!_

_You know that I feel that home is not the same without you, but I promise you, I will make our home so welcoming for you! Oh, MY LOVE, I have so many ideas! You will see!!!  
(allow me the joy of thinking how to pleasantly surprise you upon your return! And do not ask me what I will do to please you! Please??)_

_I am praying so fervently for your SUCCESSFUL and VICTORIOUS return!_

_Yours as long as I breathe,_

_Your Elik ___

__& *&*_ _

__Finally! They had been following on the tracks of the imperial procession for days, and for the first time in days, they could see them! Their Brothers, galloping proudly behind the carriages carrying His Majesty, the other nobles, and their Captain!_ _

__Sila grinned at him._ _

__“Race you?”_ _

__Sila shook his head. “No, don’t you see that they seem to be slowing down? I think they are about to enter Slenovijeij.”_ _

__“Then, this is the right time to race and catch up with them. Hiya!”_ _

__“Maxim!” Sila shouted behind him, trying to catch up with him. “You just like running,” he laughed._ _

__“Yes! I love it! Is that Roman at the back? Roman, Roman!”_ _

__“You will destroy your voice completely the way you shout!”_ _

__“So what? My voice is gone, I might as well shout as much as I want!”_ _

__“You don’t know that.”_ _

__Maxim laughed. Yes, he did know that, but he didn’t care. There were more things in life than being in a choir. Like galloping madly across the plains and trying to reach his friends, his brothers. He was HOME! “Roman,” he shouted again._ _

__The tall Guard at the back heard him and turned. “Maxim?” His voice was both deeper and louder than he remembered. They’d only been parted for a few weeks, but they felt like months. No, years! How he had missed them!_ _

__“Hello, Brother,” he called back, but his voice was drowned by the noise coming from the Guards._ _

__Moments later the procession halted. Maxim galloped to where they were and went as close as he could to the end, where he could see Roman, Leonid, Ilya, and Peter. “Brothers, I have missed you.” If they were not on horseback, he would hug them all._ _

__Roman jumped off his horse and opened his arms, grinning at him. “Brother, you’re back!”_ _

__Maxim jumped off as well and hugged him back. He let a deep sigh of utter relief and he smiled at Roman. “I’m back.”_ _

__Roman studied him, smiling a little worriedly._ _

__The next moment, Maxim was hugged so tightly by everyone, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and it was the best feeling in the world. He glanced and saw that Sila was getting the same treatment and that, despite having tried to stop him from reaching their Brothers as fast as he could, he too loved being in their embrace. Ah, this was truly home. Not the soil, not the forests, not walls. Home was his friends! His Brothers!_ _

__He was home!_ _

__Now he could really relax._ _

__“Maxim, how good to have you back.”_ _

__At the Young Lord’s voice, the Guards let him and Sila go. He bowed deeply, seeing from the corner of his eye that Sila did the same. “Your Majesty.”_ _

__He grinned as he gestured for them to get up. “I am so glad to see you. So very glad. But where are the others?” he asked, looking a little concerned. The Captain behind him looked even more worried._ _

__“The Major and the others had to pick up the cameo.”_ _

__The Captain looked horrified. “They stayed behind for a cameo?”_ _

__“The Major really wanted you to have it, Sir,” Sila said simply._ _

__“I see,” he sighed, and grimaced for a moment. “Of course,” he snorted. “I asked for it. Sire, may I be excused from lunch? I would like to get their reports now rather than later.”_ _

__The Young Lord shot the Captain an annoyed look._ _

__“Why don’t we all have lunch while the Guards tell us what happened?” The Chancellor suggested._ _

__From where had he appeared? He was a sneaky one!_ _

__“An excellent idea! That is what we will do! Maxim, Sila, with me,” said the Young Lord._ _

__“Sire, you are expected at the Mayor’s,” Count Rasoulin reminded him._ _

__“I would rather have lunch here, under the apple trees. With the Guards.”_ _

__Count Rasoulin closed his eyes. “Of course, Sire,” he said tiredly as he opened them._ _

__“Why not go, say hello, and then commandeer a room, as you had done in other occasions?” the Captain asked him._ _

__“That way, we won’t have to ask for the food to be brought here,” the Chancellor added. “I wonder if they have cold soup. I would really appreciate that.”_ _

__“That would be nice,” Duke Okdranov smiled. “Cold soup.”_ _

__“Indeed,” the Young Lord grinned. “We are going to say hello, request cold soup, and then hear what you have to say.” He started walking towards his carriage._ _

__The Chancellor approached them, the Captain behind him. “How are the others? Are they well?”_ _

__“They were when we left them,” Sila answered him._ _

__“They should be on their way here,” Maxim said._ _

__“Good, good.” The Chancellor looked at them seriously. “I hope you have good news for us.”_ _

__Maxim and Sila shared a look. “Well, that is…”_ _

__“You will give your report later,” the Captain cut him in mid-sentence. “First you should wash up, get some rest, and eat. Maxim, you sound hoarse. You shouldn’t be talking that much. You should have some warm soup, or tea. And rest your voice. Maybe you should write your report.”_ _

__Maxim started laughing. Not that again!_ _

__& *&*_ _

___Slenovijeij, 18th of Fire Month,_ _ _

___My Heart, My Love, My Nikolaj,_ _ _

___I hope you are well!_ _ _

___Second letter of the day, written during our lunch stop! Which was a very short lunch BECAUSE WE HAD NEWS! Maxim and Sila, two of the Guards from G’s team are back! G should be on his way home too – he stayed on because he had neglected getting V’s cameo earlier, and so he couldn’t join them._ _ _

___And what news!!!! FIRST OF ALL!_ _ _

___Thomas’ information was right; Prince Anton did rebel against his father for the sake of Our alliance! Unfortunately, Anton has very little support. Everyone is too scared of Francis and Francis himself is not willing to forgive his son. Isn’t that awful?_ _ _

___I was planning to make a formal protest, but now I fear that it will only make Anton’s position worse. Mark and V both think that I should wait before protesting, and I see their point. If you have a different opinion, however, I would like to hear it._ _ _

___I would never have believed that Francis would be capable of such cruelty. My heart aches for Anton – he is a very noble and honourable young man! And he knows how to enjoy himself!_ _ _

___Then again, now I am certain that Francis is really a double-faced snake or something like that!_ _ _

___This brings me to the SECOND piece of news I have for you! Which is, why Sila and Maxim came back before G and the rest of his team, AND I know what an absolutely horrible person Francis is!_ _ _

___They had to leave before G, because Maxim was attacked by an assassin who claimed to want to avenge his brother! Maxim had to kill him, and because G feared that he would be recognised, he sent him and Sila ahead, so they could avoid arrest by Ustvelan police and the diplomatic incident that would happen next!_ _ _

___HOWEVER, Maxim and Sila were followed out of Krzydzov not by the police but BY THE KING’S MEN! Whoever Maxim killed was working for King Francis!_ _ _

___King Francis HAS ASSASSINS!!! And one of them tried to murder one of Our Guards!!!!_ _ _

___What do you make of that?_ _ _

___As soon as G comes back, I will send you a full report._ _ _

___Your ever-loving Husband,_ _ _

___Your Elik ____ _

____& *&*_ _ _ _

____“So, his Majesty is at Nisdruna,” Grigori said after he had ordered their food and brought them back four beer mugs. “It is not far, but I would rather we rested and went there in the morning. Who knows what awaits us there.”_ _ _ _

____“Sir?”_ _ _ _

____“What if His Majesty commands us to move immediately? It’s easier to do that after a good night’s sleep.”_ _ _ _

____“Yes, that makes sense.”_ _ _ _

____Michal turned towards Evgeni. He had stopped asking for translations, he just looked with his eyes wide open. “Your king,” he suddenly switched to Valentinois, “wants to kill our king,” he told Michal._ _ _ _

____Michal paled, he opened his mouth but nothing came out and his eyes widened with horror. He turned to Evgeni and he nodded once. “Fuck.”_ _ _ _

____“He gets it,” he smirked._ _ _ _

____“Will your king go against my king?”_ _ _ _

____“See, he really gets it,” he repeated. “I don’t know, kid. I want you to help me stop it…”_ _ _ _

____“How?” Michal cut him off. “I will do anything. Even here, I love my country, Sir. I don’t want it to be dragged to war.”_ _ _ _

____“Even if it meant going against your king?_ _ _ _

____Michal looked down as he thought about it. “My king wants me dead. Is he still my king?”_ _ _ _

____“What do you think?”_ _ _ _

____Michal looked at Evgeni first and then him. “I don’t think so. But my country is my country, no matter where I am. I will go against my king, for my country.”_ _ _ _

____He smiled a little. “Anton would be a better king, don’t you think?”_ _ _ _

____Michal nodded. “Anton is fun,” he grinned. “He bought us all drinks on his birthday, not just the officers, like the King does.” His smile fell. “But everyone knows that he’s in prison.”_ _ _ _

____“I want to get him out, and I need your help.”_ _ _ _

____“How?”_ _ _ _

____“If Our King allows it, I will take a team and get him out, but they need to be able to pass as Ustvelan. I want you to teach them your swear words, your idiomatic expressions, and to help them learn your accent.”_ _ _ _

____“Eh?”_ _ _ _

____The Major switched to Ustvelan. “When I speak, you can tell that I am not a native, right? Especially if I talk for a while.”_ _ _ _

____“Well, kind of. You pronounce everything properly, so it is confusing to tell where you are from. You speak carefully, not fast enough. And…”_ _ _ _

____“Yes?”_ _ _ _

____“I wouldn’t say ‘native’, I would say ‘local’.”_ _ _ _

____His smile widened. “And that is why I need your help. I want you to teach my team how to speak like you.”_ _ _ _

____“But my accent is bad. I am from Prishnan, in the south. Everyone wants to speak as if they are from Krzydzov; that’s the best accent.”_ _ _ _

____“That’s not far from Svjetlski Castle, though, so that is the best accent to have in our case.” They could create a good cover story, and if Michal really was on their side, use his knowledge of the area’s families to create a really good cover story._ _ _ _

____Michal nodded slowly. “If Anton is king, your king will not go against my country?”_ _ _ _

____“No, why should he?” He took out the drawings Maxim had made for him based on the landscapes and spread them out on the table._ _ _ _

____“That’s Svjetlski Castle,” Michal smiled, pointing at the second drawing in the row. “But what are the others? The castle is right, but the hills are in the wrong place.”_ _ _ _

____He put the second drawing back in his bag and folded the others all together before giving them to Evgeni. “Give these back to Maxim.”_ _ _ _

____“I will do so, Sir.”_ _ _ _

____He stood up. “Carel, our food seems to be taking forever. I wonder if they have anything we can nibble on until it gets here. Come with me to help me carry things back.”_ _ _ _

____“Yes, Sir.”_ _ _ _

____He noticed Michal whispering something to Evgeni, and Evgeni respond with an affectionate ruffling of his hair. “Carel,” he said quietly as they left the area with the benches and the tables outside, and went into the dark, closed and smelly space of the tavern._ _ _ _

____“Yes, Sir?”_ _ _ _

____“I want you to keep your eyes and ears open tonight. I will also be careful, but two pairs of ears and eyes are better than one.”_ _ _ _

____“Yes, but for what should I look out?”_ _ _ _

____“Michal.”_ _ _ _

____Carel froze for a moment._ _ _ _

____“If that young man is a spy, today he will act. He knows our plan, he knows that we will put in action tomorrow, so, tonight is his best chance to stop us.”_ _ _ _

____“I see. But why did you wait until tonight?”_ _ _ _

____He smiled. “Because, I really want to believe that he’s just a scared and confused kid, whose captain deserves being killed for using him so callously.” He snorted as he leaned against the bar and asked for one of each type of snack they had. “I know that at seventeen, he’s already an adult, but… he’s not ready for adulthood yet.”_ _ _ _

____“Sir?”_ _ _ _

____“Why do you think we usually don’t have soldiers before they’re eighteen? They need to be young and fit, and strong in their mind. He’s still too young, and instead of being trained and taught how to become a man, they sent him to kill. That’s a fucked-up thing to do to anyone.” As the barwoman started putting bowl after bowl on the counter, he whistled admiringly. “That’s a lot of nibbles. Good thing you are here, Carel!”_ _ _ _

____Carel frowned, confused._ _ _ _

____“Are you wondering what I am wondering? That I am just as bad as his commander? I am using that kid too, but I tell myself it is for my country, and I am using him in a non-combatant position. If he is with us, he will teach my team how to speak properly, and then I will send him back before we cross the borders. That makes it acceptable.”_ _ _ _

____Carel smiled. “You think as much as the Captain.”_ _ _ _

____“You have to think about what you do, when it affects other, and especially when you lead men potentially to their deaths. To do otherwise, is self-centred.” He grinned. “But you know what the worst thing? When you know that there is no real right or wrong in most cases; it all depends from where you look at it.”_ _ _ _

____“So, are we doing something wrong here?”_ _ _ _

____He shook his head. “Not for us Bosilik. But, let us assume that if Francis is right. If killing His Majesty will stop His Majesty from fighting well, then won’t he have protected his country? Wouldn’t then, the death of one man save the lives of many?”_ _ _ _

____“Now I am confused. Whose side are you on?”_ _ _ _

____“I am on Bosilke’s side, of course,” he snapped. “But I am saying, that what is right for us, protecting the life of His Majesty, is wrong for Ustvela, or at least some Ustvelans think so, and what is right for Ustvela, is wrong for us. Can you tell me which side is right? Is there one side that has more right than the other in this case?”_ _ _ _

____Carel grabbed one of the trays that the barwoman had covered almost completely with bowls. “I am not a thinker, Sir. I am told to obey, and I do it.”_ _ _ _

____He picked up the second tray. “If you are not thinking about what you do, then why are you here?”_ _ _ _

____“Because I want to protect His Majesty.”_ _ _ _

____“So, if, as we said earlier, protecting His Majesty is right for our side, then you think our side is right. Therefore, you do not obey just because you were told to.”_ _ _ _

____“Sir, you really are confusing me!_ _ _ _

____“Why?”_ _ _ _

____“Because,” Carel whined. “Do you do that at dinner parties, Sir? Engage people in such discussions?”_ _ _ _

____“No,” he told him seriously. “I never go to dinner parties if I can help it. They are a waste of my time.”_ _ _ _

____Carel widened his eyes as if he didn’t believe him. But why?_ _ _ _

____He saw Michal running to meet them. The young man took the tray off his hands. “Sir, Sir, Genya said if Anton is on the throne, I can go home. Is that true?”_ _ _ _

____“If that is what you want, and if Anton is on the throne.”_ _ _ _

____Michal’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Sir. Sir?”_ _ _ _

____“Yes?”_ _ _ _

____“That’s a lot of nibbles. It’s just for us?”_ _ _ _

____“Yes, but we could share with others, if you want.” It wasn’t like they were hiding their presence from enemy spies. They could be generous. He turned towards the barwoman. “Hey. Drinks for everyone. On me.”_ _ _ _

____All expenses paid! He loved these kind of missions._ _ _ _

____& *&*_ _ _ _

_____Nisdruna, 18th of Fire Month_ _ _ _ _

_____My Darling!_ _ _ _ _

_____After a very short battle, we entered the city of Nisdruna!_ _ _ _ _

_____Very little resistance!_ _ _ _ _

_____I am sad to report casualties: three dead and eight wounded (I was not lying when I said the resistance was minimal). I hate funerals! I hate them even more than hospital visits…_ _ _ _ _

_____I am happy to report that by now, you cannot tell which one is a Quhjani and which one a Bosilik funeral before the burial ritual starts. All the men join in the common mourning. And then we have a feast to honour the dead and sustain ourselves. And we drink_ _ _ _ _

_____Your ever-loving Husband_ _ _ _ _

_____Your Nikolaj_ _ _ _ _

_____p.s. we drank so much after the funerals that I doubt we will leave Nisdruna tomorrow… I think we need to stop drinking so much (in general, not only after the funerals… )_ _ _ _ _


	60. Chapter 60

19th 

Mark finished putting on his coat as Artyom and Filon hastily got dressed. “Everyone knows,” he smirked. “No need to hurry like that.”

They ignored him. 

He opened his arms when they were all dressed, looking as perfect as only Special Guards could look, and they came to him. He hugged them and they kissed him on the cheeks, Artyom on the left and Filon on the right. “Good boys,” he smiled as he kissed first Artyom and then Filon on the lips. “See you later?”

They nodded.

“Have a good day, Chancellor,” they both said as they slipped out of his room as quietly as they could.

Seriously, why this caution? Everyone knew! 

He walked out behind them and knocked on Vasya’s room. When there was no answer, he opened the door.

Vasya grinned at him from where he was lying in bed, the kittens sleeping on his chest. “Good morning. I’ll be down in five minutes. Or ten.”

He closed the door behind him. 

“I managed to sleep for ten hours straight,” Vasya told him happily. “Even the Trouble-makers didn’t wake me up tonight.”

His Grisha was coming back. No wonder he had managed to get some sleep. He had finally stopped worrying. “I’m glad to hear that.” He grinned. “But I will join you for official business this afternoon, just in case.”

“Thank you. Since you are here, can you put them in their basket, please?”

“With pleasure.” They were still so small, and how soft they were! He loved picking them up. “They are growing every day,” he smiled as he cradled the white one in his palms and scratched it lightly under its chin. “Grisha will be so pleased to see them. Maxim said they were supposed to leave a day after them, so they should be with us today.”

“Yes,” Vasya smiled happily. “I honestly missed him more these weeks than all the months we were traveling.”

“Because you were worried about him,” Mark told him. “But he will be back today, he will bring news of the situation at Ustvela, and we will figure out what to do next. His Majesty was very disappointed that he can’t make a formal protest at this point.”

“Yes. What did you think of the drawings that Maxim made of the castle where Anton is held?”

Mark frowned. “What did you think?” He wondered if they both had the same idea. 

“I think that he’s considering the option of freeing Anton. What did you think?”

“The same. But then what? Find some New Territory for him and install him as Governor, the way Nikolaj wants to do with Adelaide, if he fails to take Oerestand?”

Vasya grinned. “Maybe His Majesty will go and attack Ustvela, take Yastba, and put Anton there as Governor.”

“Or he could start a school for kings in exile! Can you imagine that? Little Augie, his sibling, and Anton, all learning how to be kingly in someone else’s court.” 

They laughed for a few moments as he put the kittens in their basket. How deeply they slept when they felt safe and happy. Just like Vasya. 

How terrifying it had been to see Vasya hurt, and how wonderful it was to see him looking like his usual self. He and Nikolaj were the only brothers he had. Brothers he had chosen himself, since he didn’t have any siblings. 

“Do you think people would support Anton if he were freed?” he asked, not wanting to think of the fear he’d felt when he saw Vasya hit, nor the realisation that if he lost Vasya, he would lose his favourite little cousin, one of his best friends and one of the few people he could trust with all his secrets, with whom he could be himself the most, and think out loud all at once. Little wonder he needed to be reassured that he still had him every fucking day. 

Losing Vasya would be like losing Ekaterina. 

Vasya petted one of the black kittens. “I think… I would rather wait for Grisha’s report.”

“Speculate,” he told him, needing the distraction.

“If he still has friends in the army, like he did, and among the nobles, perhaps. If there was the threat of war between Ustvela and Bosilke? Probably.”

“Let’s see what Grisha says.” He grinned. “I think that if we gave Elik the option of going to war for Anton, he would take it.”

“He hates war.”

“But he loves his friends, and he considers Anton a friend.”

“Anton is a good and honorable man. He would be a better king than Francis, and better for Bosilke too.”

“You seem certain of that.”

“I drank with him, and you know that drunken people are honest people. Their faults and virtues are all exposed and magnified.”

Mark nodded. “Is that why you don’t like Francis? Because he never drinks to the point of drunkenness?”

“Hm, never thought of that. It is good for a king to drink less than his subjects, so… I am not sure,” he smiled as he handed the last of the kittens to Mark. “Perhaps Grisha knows. He’s so much cleverer than I am! Ever since I met him, I feel like I am trying to catch up to him. But that’s good, because it makes me better.” 

Mark smiled and didn’t comment. Grisha also said that Vasya was the cleverest person he had ever met, and that he was always trying to become better so he could be his equal. Ah, clever people really missed the obvious sometimes! 

Not that he minded, nor that he would tell them. The more they both tried to be better, the better they worked. The better they worked, the happier he was as their superior officer. “I should let you get dressed. I heard there will be cold soup for breakfast too!”

“Really? How wonderful,” Vasya said with a happily surprised expression.

Yes, clever people definitely missed the obvious. As if having cold soup for breakfast, lunch, and dinner everywhere they had stopped was a lucky coincidence. He smiled again. “Indeed, Cousin. See you soon.” 

&*&*

Longin stared at him. Isak’s mouth fell open. “Captain, what are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” He stared at them. When there was no answer, he shook his head. “I’m doing the obvious. Trying to see His Majesty. I was told he was here.”

Longin opened the door to the room immediately. 

It was a large room, divided in two areas, with Count Bitoulin and his secretary taking up two desks to the left, and Count Njedzic and his secretary sitting at two desks to the right. Between them was the door to the rooms His Majesty had taken, with Luka and Bogdan guarding it. 

Count Bitoulin stood up immediately when he saw him. “Lesnev, what are you ...” He grinned. “Let me announce you.”

“Just one thing,” he pointed towards Carel, Evgeni, and Michal who were following him, “Can you find a place for us?”

Count Njedzic gestured at his secretary. “We will take care of it. Welcome to Nisdruna, Lesnev.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency. Carel, with me.”

“Good to see you, Sir,” Bogdan whispered as he opened the door.

“Good to be here.” He hoped!

The room was as dark as it was possible, with all the curtains drawn close. In the few seconds that there was light coming in from the anteroom he noticed that His Majesty was sitting at the end of the room behind a desk, or rather, lying against it, while the other furniture had been pushed to the side. 

“Good luck,” Luka murmured as he closed the door, and everything went dark again. 

“I said not to be disturbed,” His Majesty growled hoarsely. As his eyes adjusted, he saw His Majesty raise his head a little. “Who are you?”

“Lesnev, Your Majesty.”

“Fuck,” he muttered as he sat up. “No good news, I take it?”

“I am sorry, Sire.”

“Fuck. Bogdan,” he shouted. 

The door opened immediately. “Tea. No, coffee. Lesnev, have a seat.”

He went towards the chairs to the right.

“Not there. Here,” he pointed at the centre of the room. 

He picked up he chair and put it where His Majesty had indicated. 

“Sit. Ah, fuck, my head hurts. Tell me, Lesnev, do you have a cure for hangovers? Something tried and tested and proven true by the other Lesnev?”

He grinned. “I have some, but none that Vasya has tried. He doesn’t get bad hangovers.” He was a fucking Stanjisnki. 

His Majesty groaned. “Fucking Stanjisnkis. I remember his father. He could drink everyone under the table, continue until everyone was sober enough to start getting drunk again, and stop only when everyone had passed out for the second time. He taught me how to drink, you know.”

He could believe that. How wondered how many men had learned how to drink from his husband’s Father. Or from his husband. He’d probably taught the Guards, if they hadn’t known already. 

“Get some light in. But not too much.”

Carel ran immediately to the one of the windows farthest from the desk and pulled the curtains slightly apart, letting a sliver of light in.

His Majesty was still in his dress uniform, as if he had attended some formal function, and from there went straight to a hall or a tavern where he’d drunk all night. He hadn’t even shaved before coming to his office and there were stains on his coat. It was a good thing he was his Majesty, because that attitude showed lack of discipline. 

“You will tell me everything once I’ve had some coffee,” His Majesty said tiredly as he looked at him. “Do you think there comes a point when a man can’t drink much anymore? I don’t remember having such bad hangovers when I was young, and a few months ago, I drank so much, I forgot everything I had done.” He sighed. 

“I think so. We are not getting younger as time passes,” he smiled kindly. “It’s nature’s way of reminding us to start taking better care of our bodies.”

His Majesty groaned. “I don’t like thinking I’m getting old.”

“Who does?”

“Who?”

“No one.”

“Ah, yes. I definitely don’t like it.”

Grigori nodded. Fuck, fuck, and double-fuck. He might as well go wherever Evgeni and Michal were, and sleep. They would not do a thing today, not while His Majesty was still drunk and suffering from a hangover. 

There was a knock at that moment and Bogdan brought in a tray with coffee that smelled delicious. He hoped there was a cup for him. “Get him some water,” he whispered to Bodgan as he passed him by. Fuck. No coffee for him. 

“Coffee for me? Coffee for Lesnev? Where is it?” He looked like he was about to throw the cup he’d lifted and then changed his mind. “More coffee. For both of us. And,” he looked up and stared at Carel. “him too.”

Bogdan ran out of the room. 

Moments later he came back with two cups. “Would that be acceptable, Sire? Until I bring more coffee?”

“Yes, yes.” He poured them coffee and motioned for Carel to take them. 

“Thank you, Sire.” He drank a little, and it was really good coffee, making him moan happily. 

His Majesty also sighed with pleasure as he took a sip. “Coffee is wonderful. So, Lesnev. Tell me.”

“As you know, I went to investigate the cause of Prince Anton’s illness.”

His Majesty perked up suddenly. “Was it a woman?” He grinned. “I bet it was. In fact, I placed a bet that it was. That Francis wants Anton’s fiancée for himself. She’s young and pretty, and she can probably dance as wildly as my darling. I think, Francis saw how wonderful it is to have a young wife that can’t sit still, and got jealous.” He looked very proud of himself. 

Grigori stared at him. Was His Majesty also reading romances in his spare time? They should be banned, filling people’s heads with such idle thoughts. People should read useful things, like gardening manuals, or history, or solve mathematical problems. Or make things with their hands. 

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Sire, but it was a man.”

“Really? But Anton loves women. And Francis … well, he loves himself.”

He smiled. How astute an observation. “He does. Prince Anton did rebel against him in an attempt to preserve the alliance between Bosilke and Ustvela, after he failed to persuade his father not to help Fredrik.”

“He did? Really?” He finished his coffee. “Oh, that crazy, noble fool,” he grinned fondly. “When We left Ustvela to bring Our Most Precious back, he promised me that he would do anything to make Francis join me in the war against Oerestand, because he was scared that I would go after the port of Yastba. It is almost as close to Bosilke as Sabvajent Bay,” he smiled. “I… I can’t believe he rebelled against his own father because he promised that he would keep faith with me, if I did not attack Ustvela.”

Grigori frowned. What a fucking mess. Anton truly was his father’s son. He was clever and far-sighted, but without the malice that had twisted Francis, and made him lose his cleverness. 

His Majesty sighed, smiling affectionately. “What a brave, little prince!”

Indeed. But why hadn’t Francis listened to his son’s reasonable advice, and chose instead to believe that it was all the Consort’s fault? A man was behind Anton’s actions, but not the one Francis thought. He finished his coffee, wishing he could hear Anton’s side of the story. Or even Francis’. 

“Well? Go on.”

“Francis is so disappointed in Anton that he does consider divorcing his Queen, and marrying Anton’s fiancée.”

“Ha, I knew there was a woman somewhere,” he exclaimed happily. “I’ll win half the bet! Please, continue.”

“Even though there are people who are sympathetic to Anton, they are too scared to support him against his father.”

“So,” he sighed, “Anton will remain unwell, until his father has a new son, and then…” he sighed more deeply. 

“Yes, however, it is in Bosilke’s interests that we interfere.”

He sat up. “What are you talking about?”

“While we were there, through a series of fortuitous events, we uncovered a conspiracy against His Most Gracious Majesty.”

His Majesty froze. “Against me?”

“Your Husband.”

He stared at him and poured more coffee with one hand, while gesturing for him to be quiet with the other.

The door opened after a knock at exactly that moment. 

“About fucking time,” he groaned as Bogdan brought a large coffee pot and a jug of water. 

“Tell me,” he said after he had finished his second cup.

“Francis is convinced that the reason Anton rebelled is because His Majesty convinced Anton to side with Bosilke. Furthermore, he truly believes that if His Majesty dies, you…” Fuck, how could he say that?

“Me what? I what? What’s the proper grammar?”

“Syntax,” he corrected him without thinking. “I what.”

His Majesty snorted. “Well, I what?”

“He believes that you will be too overcome by grief to conduct the war against Oerestand effectively.”

“I…” He stared at him. “I might be,” he whispered. “He’s my everything,” he said in so low a voice, Grigori had trouble hearing him. “And?” he said more loudly after a few moments’ silence. 

“He has sent assassins after His Majesty,” he said, leaving it vague. Fuck Mark for not telling His Majesty about the first attempt at Fladd. How could he tell His Majesty that Francis had been trying to kill his husband for months, without revealing Mark’s omission of the truth? When he was back, he would tell him his mind, honestly and brutally. 

His Majesty rubbed the bridge of his nose and stared into his cup. “And you don’t trust your husband to do his job? Is that why you are here?” he said as he looked up, smirking. 

“Oh, I do trust him. It is Francis that worries me. Sire, after assessing the situation and discussing with some of our contacts, I am convinced that he will not stop sending assassin after assassin until His Majesty is dead.” And Vasya with him, because he knew that Vasya would die trying to protect him. 

“Why are you here, Lesnev? You are not here just to make me worry.”

“No. I want to put Anton on the throne. With your permission, Your Majesty.”

“How?” 

“A two-pronged attack. One group will get in touch with our contacts at Krzydzov, and let them know that Anton has Bosilke’s support. The other will free Anton.”

He got up and opened his folder, taking out a map of Ustvela. His Majesty nodded and he unfolded it on his desk. “Here is Svjetlski Castle,” he said, pointing down. “We could not do a proper reconnaissance, but we did the next best thing.”

He took out the composite drawing Maxim had made and Michal had confirmed was right. “This is what it looks like on the landscape. And this is its layout.”

“And it’s on the other side of Ustvela, near the borders with Rodtal.”

“A small group of men can do it. As you pointed out, it is on the other side of the kingdom. No one will expect us to cross Ustvela. Too risky.” He grinned. “But we can do it. Give me twenty men, of my choosing, and five for the Krzydzov team. Francis might arrest one or two of them, but I doubt he will manage to get all five of them.”

“Assuming you do it, then what? You and your twenty men bring Anton back to the capital and declare him king? You will need an army for that. Francis will not let that happen.”

“If the nobles and our contacts in the military know that Anton is not alone, and has Bosilke behind him, they will take arms against Francis.”

His Majesty stared at him. “You want me to sanction the liberation of a political prisoner, a rebel against royal authority, and then cause civil war?”

He stared back. “I want to save His Majesty’s life.”

“Lesnev,” he said slowly, “I have a really bad headache, and you ask the impossible. Take the day off and let me think about it. I love Him, but we cannot interfere in another country’s affairs like that. It is not done. It is not proper.”

Fuck proper, he wanted to reply. Fucking nobles and their fucking sense of honour and propriety. “Sending assassins against His Majesty is interference in our affairs. Fight fire with fire, Sire. Don't let...”

“Lesnev,” he shouted, cutting him off, and grimaced immediately. “Enough. I said, let me think about it.”

“Sire,” he sighed, “as you wish.” 

He let the papers on His Majesty’s office and walked out. “Fuck,” he sighed the moment he was in the anteroom. 

“And I don’t want to be disturbed by anyone,” His Majesty’s voice boomed from behind the closed door. “Anyone.”

Bogdan and Luka gave him a sympathetic look. 

“That bad?” Count Bitoulin asked.

He nodded. 

“I’ll take you to your rooms,” Count Njedzic’s secretary told him. 

“It is still good to see you, Sir,” Luka smiled. 

“Same here, Luka.”

Well, he had tried. The matter was out of his hands, and he refused to think about it further. He grinned at Carel. “I wonder what they serve for breakfast here.”

Carel looked at him as if he were mad. 

Perhaps he was. But what else could he do, except wait for His Majesty to send him home so he could die with Vasya? At least he’d die with him, the way he’d lived with him. What more could he want? 

&*&*

Valery’s horse staggered. “No, no, no,” he whispered, rubbing its neck soothingly. A second later, his poor beast fell on the ground, and he barely managed to roll over and not get crushed by it. “Fuck,” he whispered as he pulled himself up. “Take care of it,” he shouted to the shocked people who were crowding the street. 

“Out of my way,” he screamed as he ran as fast as he could, pushing people when they refused to move. He hoped he wasn’t too late. He had been following the imperial procession for days, and he hoped he had managed to catch up with them finally. “Move, damn you. Fuck. Move.”

He had forgotten how crazily busy any place could be when His Majesty was visiting. Up on his horse, escorting his Majesty, it was easy not to pay attention to the throng of people gathered to catch a glimpse of their young and pretty Lord. It was even easier to ignore how the occasion often turned into a festive fair, with people selling snacks and gifts, making the streets crowded with people who moved lazily as they enjoyed themselves.

“Move, damn you all,” he shouted again, using his elbows to open his way through the people. “Out of my way. Move.”

It was easier to do this on a horse, he thought. A horse was tall and big and imposing, and people parted when they saw it coming. But he’d been so anxious to get here, that he didn’t take of it. Ah, fuck it. “Move.”

He elbowed someone and the man pushed him back. “What do you…”

Valery punched him. “Move.”

“You are under arrest,” the man told him, holding his bleeding nose. 

Valery looked at him stunned. He hadn’t even noticed he was in a dark green police uniform. “I must see His Majesty first. Arrest me afterwards.” He grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him towards the centre of the town.

“What are you doing?” he asked him, shocked. 

“Making sure you know I do not mean to avoid arrest. But I must see Him now. It is urgent.”

The policeman took out his pistol and aimed high. 

“You don’t shoot anywhere in a crowd, not unless you want the straying bullet to kill someone,” Valery shouted at him. He grabbed the policeman’s wrist with his free hand, making the man stare at him strangely. “Move,” he screamed, wishing he had both arms free to push people away from him. 

He suddenly saw Peter the Tall and Roman ahead, their shoulders and heads sticking out in the crowd. 

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth. “Peter, Roman,” he shouted at them as if he was singing and had to project his voice across the sea. “Help!”

They both turned their heads back and looked around. 

He raised his free arm. “Here.”

Immediately he saw them moving, clearing the path to him. 

He turned to the policeman. “You can arrest me later, I promise.”

He snorted. “Security officers stick together, don’t you know that, man? Go do your work.” He nodded. 

Valery saluted him. 

Moments later, Peter, Roman, Lev and Sidor had made the crowds part for them. He smirked. Of course! Deep blue, clean uniforms were more impressive than his own dusty and dirty one. “Brothers,” he sighed. “What joy to see you in the Motherland.”

Leonid started laughing as he hugged him tightly. “So true, Brother. Where are the others?”

“With His Majesty. Brothers, I must see the Captain. Now.”

&*&*

The Mayor’s servant passed him a note. He read it quickly and rose. “Your Majesty, with your permission, I must attend to an urgent business.”

“Of course.”

He hurried out of the room, but the moment he saw Valery only among the other Guards, he felt his chest ache. Where was his Grisha? Also, Valery really looked like shit. He looked worse than Maxim and Sila together. 

“Captain,” Valery said, his expression grim. “I must speak to you.”

“You will. But you should wash up first and eat something. I need to inform His Majesty and Their Graces that you have arrived. They will want to hear what you want to say, so you might as well give your report in front of them.”

Valery nodded. “Sir? I have this for you.” Valery took out a small box and gave it to him. 

He opened it, but at the sight of the folded letter he froze. “Thank you. I will go inform the higher-ups while you rest, and I will have someone collect you when we are all ready to hear your report.”

“Thank you, Sir.” He saluted him.

“At ease,” he grinned. 

He went back to the dining room. “Your Majesty, Valery is back with news.”

His Majesty stood up immediately. Mark and Okdranov shared a look. 

“He is about to collapse, Sire. With your permission, I want him to have a few minutes to collect himself and his thoughts.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He sat down again, looking worried. 

“And, with your permission, I would also like a few minutes. Thank you,” he said before they could reject his request. He bowed and left them. 

“Is there a room I could use?” he asked the Mayor’s servant who was bringing in the next course.

“Ask Magda, at the kitchen.”

“Thank you.”

Two minutes later, he was in the children’s school room. He smiled at the toys against the wall, and the books on the shelves. It seemed like they were trying to balance play and education in this family. 

He sat on the floor and opened the box again. Under the letter there were four smaller boxes, but he ignored them. They had to be cameos. But why four? 

He unfolded the letter. 

_12th_

_Hey,_

_How are you? I hope you are well. I’m fine for now (and that’s good)_

_Depending on when you read this, Valery will give/have given you all the details so, this is just to let you know the obvious: I miss you and I love you and I am longing to be home with you._

_I got your cameo. And more. I think Prince K is really afraid of being killed. He did give me this best pieces. And it seemed to me that he regrets not realizing that you are who you are. Sometimes, when he spoke, I had the impression that he had had an affair with one – or both – your parents, and he regretted not knowing who you were, because then he could have spoiled you as if you were his son. He spoke very fondly of you even before knowing your parentage, but after he found out, he sounded even more tender and affectionate._

_Also? I think I know why F makes your skin crawl. His smile rarely reaches his eyes and every word he says is a joke that only he knows. You know he’s lying to you but you don’t know what’s the lie he’s saying. He made my skin crawl too. Dining with him was one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life._

_Finally, I picked up another stray. I’m not even sure what I’m doing with him. Apart from his potential usefulness for the mission, that is. I really hope he’s not a good agent. I would rather not kill him._

_When I am back, I will first punch Mark for the handicap he’d given me (honestly, how can I make HM know how serious things are without him knowing of the incident at Fladd?), and then we will talk about your wolf pack. They are fierce and quite skillful, but they can be better._

_Fuck it, I will write it here. I want to take them all on a Trip. Perhaps together with the others? On their own? Perhaps 50 at a time? Think about it, and when I am back, we will discuss it. They need one! And they should try your bear meat stew once! Only you can make it! The last two trips, it just didn’t taste right (they were all new, both times, and you weren’t there to persuade them to disobey me)._

_Also? You MUST join me on the next trip. Please? Siuta Vasiuka, I know you are busy, and all that, but fuck it, Siuta. This is the only life we have. I don’t want to spend it away from you, even if it is just for a few weeks._

_~~I was so happy for you on the trip you took with HM, and I didn’t mind we were apart, but after seeing you again after these months, and now this? LET’S FUCK THEM ALL, Siuta!~~ _

_That wasn’t fair. I see what you see, and I want what you want, and I know you would die for your dream of a better land, and I respect that, the same way that you will respect/will have respected my decision. But, until you die, or until I do, I want us to be together as much as possible. Being away from you for so long, and meeting you again has made everything clear to me. I had lost my way when you were away, but when you came back, I found my North._

_If the situation with F is not resolved, I am happy and willing to not go on a trip this autumn (or even next year, or as long as it takes) so as to be with you and support you in your efforts to keep HM safe._

_But if it is resolved, take your leave and come with me!_

_Let us have a pointless dream about traveling East!_

_Let us finish our fucking cookbook (and find a better title – honestly, the current one is awful)_

_Let us train your dogs to take us on sleigh-rides!_

_Let us build a conservatory and cultivate citrus trees! Lemons! Oranges! Bergamots!_

_We have land now, don’t we? Let us go find an area just for shooting stuff! Let us be frivolous! Let us make miniature cannons and howitzers and mortars and shoot the fuck out of whatever is in our way! Wouldn’t that be fun, moving our toy batteries around and smashing things?_

_But you know what, Siuta? I was mad about you before I realized I love you, and I am mad about you now. I just want to be with you. If we have what we have built together all these years, that is good, but even if we have nothing, that is also good. We don’t need anything as long as we are together._

_So, I’m writing what is obvious: I love you, I miss you, I want to be with you. I want to live with you. For as long as we have._

_And if I die away from you… You know that death is not shared. We all die alone, and I was always going to die apart from you, and you from me. But, when we are dead, nothing will touch us. No one will hurt us. We will have peace. And we will be together. I know that much. And you know it._

_I remain yours, now and forever, in this life and whatever is next, always yours,_

_Your Grishka_

_p.s. Hey, kitten, I love you! Smile for me?_

He smiled and wiped his tears. He’d also lost himself away from Grisha, but Grisha could always steer him right!

Grishka was right. They all died alone. How selfish it was of him to worry about Grisha, when he’d almost left Grisha alone eight days before? He hadn’t even though of Grisha when he realized there was a firearm pointing at His Majesty. As he’d expected Grisha to understand, so he too would understand. 

If Grisha came back from this mission, and if he didn’t die protecting His Majesty, they would spend all their time together. Or as much as their duties allowed them. He would take his leave and join Grisha on the next trip. They would take the Guards for one (did he call them ‘wolf pack?’ he did!). They would finish their fucking cookbook (but what was wrong with the title?). He hadn’t even thought that they could use his dogs for sleigh-rides! 

Why had he been worried all this time? Grisha was so wise: One way or another, they would be together! That was all that mattered. He just had to be a little patient and wait to see if they would be together in this life or the next. 

“Ah, Grishka Grishuka,” he whispered, smiling. “I can’t wait to be with you! Here or there.” 

He got up and looked out, at the Mayor’s garden, and the houses, and the gardens between them, and the gentle hills beyond the town, covered with trees. “How beautiful is Mother land.”

He sat on the windowsill and took out his notebook. How beautiful it really was. 

&*&*

Evgeni stood up the moment the Major stepped inside their room. Michal imitated him. “How did it go, Sir?”

“As well as being fucked dry.”

That bad?

Michal turned towards him, a question in his expression.

“Nothing,” the Major said in Ustvelan. He saluted them. “Gentlemen, it has been an honour knowing you,” he told them, switching to Bosilik. 

“That bad?” Evgeni asked finally. 

Carel nodded. “His Majesty would rather have the Young Lord killed than do something ‘not proper’,” he spat. 

Evgeni stared at them. Carel looked furious, his eyes burning with anger as he breathed heavily, but the Major didn’t look different than usual. No, his mouth was set in a hard line. 

The Major sighed heavily. “We can only wait,” he said in Valentinois. “But I think we failed, and only when someone kills His Majesty, will Our Most Noble and Proper Emperor realise what he lost.” He shrugged. “My conscience is clear. What do you say that we go out and find the strongest drink in this fucking town? Because, fuck, I really need one.”

Carel nodded. “I want one too.”

“But it’s not even one.”

“It’s past lunch time. Let’s go have lunch and drinks. On me.”

How bad had that meeting gone?

“Do you guys know how to drink?” The Major asked them pleasantly as they walked out. “If not, I will teach you everything that Vasya taught me!”

&*&*

For the longest time, they all stayed silent after Valery finished speaking. Elik couldn’t speak even if someone asked him to. He was that numb from shock at what he’d heard. 

Finally, Vasya couldn’t help himself. “Fuck,” he said very softly.

“Why would Francis want to kill me? Elik sighed.

Everyone looked at him as if he were stupid for a moment. “Because he believes you used me to make Anton loyal to Bosilke,” Vasya told him very calmly. 

He had heard that. But he had never… How could anyone believe that he would do such a thing? Was Francis mad? “But I never… Did you?” 

“Did you?” Duke Okdranov asked, curious. 

Vasya shook his head. “No, he kept pestering me about getting an invitation to the parties, and I kept telling him that he was too young. That’s all I did.”

“Really?” 

“Really.” Vasya looked up and to the left for a moment. 

“Memory,” he suddenly grinned.

“Indeed,” Yasya smiled. “No, I never talked to him of anything political. I talked to him about the brevity of youth, the duty to protect and guide young men like him into the right path, that involved no alcohol or fucking around or…”

Mark chuckled. “You…. Sorry, I can’t…. Oh, no, that’s too much.”

“It’s the truth. Youth is precious and should be protected,” Vasya said earnestly.

Duke Okdranov looked at them with obvious curiosity, but also amusement. Elik couldn’t blame him; you could tell one that Cousin Mark and Cousin Vasya were different from the Chancellor and Lesnev, but you couldn’t really prepare them for how different they were. 

He was glad they had told Duke Okdranov. He wanted Vasya to be Vasya always. He laughed more and he was full of passion. He liked him better when he was Vasya. 

“Tell me, did you give him the ‘love is marvelous’ lecture too?” Mark gasped. 

“I did.”

Which reminded him; he had never heard that whole lecture. 

Mark ran out of the room, shaking his head, and leaving the door open behind him. A moment later, they heard him laugh madly and uncontrollably. 

Valery frowned, but the others tried to be serious. 

“Why is it so funny, that you talked of the virtuous upbringing of young men?” Elik asked. 

“I am not sure,” Vasya said loudly, over Mark’s continuous laughter. 

“Really?” Oh, well, if he wanted to keep his secrets, he could do it. 

Vasya shrugged. “It could be because I started drinking when I was two? Maybe because of that?”

Duke Okdranov looked more like they expected that, but Elik was pleased to see that Maxim, Valery, and Sila also seemed shocked to hear that. It wasn’t just him!

“And,” Vasya reddened a little, “I was not a virgin when I married.”

But all Bosilik noble men and women were supposed to be virgins at their marriage! All of them. He looked around and saw that everyone was stunned at the admission. 

“I knew it,” Maxim said suddenly, grinning. 

“What can I say? We were young, we were in love, it was hard to wait until our wedding day.” He smiled in a way that was very familiar to Elik. He was thinking of Grisha! Definitely!

Elik chuckled. “I suppose when love is so marvelous, it must be very hard to be virtuous.”

“We were virtuous in our own way,” he protested. “We were true to the virtue of our love.”

Maxim’s eyes shone wickedly and he opened his mouth, but Sila put his hand over it. 

“I had no idea,” Duke Okdranov whispered. 

Mark returned to the room, wheezing. “Oh, I needed that.” He sighed as he took his seat again. “So, you only talked about virtue with Anton?”

“Yes. But it is about perception.”

“Ah, I know, I know. I mean, I understand,” Elik said, raising his hand. “Francis thinks that I am behind Anton’s decision, even though we know that I had nothing to do with it. Or rather, he believes that to be true, and that is worse than thinking it true. When someone thinks, you can change their mind. When someone believes, then you can’t.” He realized what that meant. He could never, ever change Francis’ mind. He could protest formally and write letter after letter, but Francis would never listen to him. 

Francis was mad. “Fuck.”

“Indeed,” Mark agreed. 

“Is there something we can do?” Duke Okdranov asked. 

“If Grisha is with His Majesty, then that means that we must wait,” Mark said. “I am sorry, Your Majesty. You may be the Regent and rule with the Council, but he is still Our Emperor.” He shook his head. “Even if Grisha had come to us, he would still need authorization from His Majesty for such an operation.”

Elik looked at them. “So, I just sit and wait for Francis’ assassins until His Majesty decides to do something about Francis?” he said, feeling miserable and annoyed at the same time. His life would always be in Nikolaj’s hands. 

Irina had been right; he was a caged bird. Nothing more. Even when he loved his owner, he was still trapped and at his mercy.

He saw Mark exchange a look with Vasya first and then with Duke Okdranov. Yes, that was all they could do; sit and wait. 

“We will protect you,” Maxim suddenly shouted. “You can sit and wait as long as it takes, because we are here for you.”

Elik smiled at them. “But...” he didn’t want them to be hurt.

“That is Our Duty,” Valery said more quietly, but sounding so very certain of his words. “To Guard You.”

“Yes, singing and dancing is fun, but that is not our job,” Maxim told Elik seriously. 

“Besides,” Sila continued, “You are our Friend and our Brother. As they say at Sorain, One for All,”

“And All for One,” the three of them shouted together. 

He felt like crying. That’s what comrades did; they supported each other to the end. He had to stop wanting to protect them; he had to let them do what they did best! Be his Brothers!

Mark raised an eyebrow, Duke Okdranov frowned, and Vasya looked at the Guards proudly. 

“You know this means we need to be in full alert for the next months?” Vasya spoke, and it was not a question. 

The Guards nodded. 

“Do we still need to stop for lunches?” he asked Mark and Elik. 

Elik nodded. “I will not run. But I will wear that fucking chainmail shirt when it is done. And all the Guards should have one as well.” He grinned. “And new uniforms. Maybe long, flowing caftans instead of West-style coats?”

“And since it will be winter soon, chainmail headdresses under hats?” Vasya grinned. 

Ah, he really wouldn’t be able to avoid the headdress. But he’d do it. “Yes,” Elik nodded. “And… since I will be in such terrible danger, can the Guards live with me at Ivanhof and not the Barracks?” He would feel better with them around him. 

“Maybe they should have their own sleeping spaces, but they can be at Ivanhof during their shifts, and whenever they want to be there,” Mark smiled.

“Ah, fuck,” he said. “I think I need a drink.” He stared at Vasya pleadingly. 

Vasya looked at Mark, and he nodded. 

“I really want to declare war on Ustvela, free Anton myself, and punch Francis for being so horrible,” Elik sighed. 

“I’m sorry, Sire, you need His Majesty’s permission for that.”

“Fuck,” he sighed again. He really needed a drink. And to write to His Husband. And tell him what? 

No, he just needed a drink. 

“With your permission,” Vasya told him, “I would like to inform the Guards of the new situation. And then, we will all go for drinks. Is that acceptable?”

He nodded. 

He watched as Vasya led the Guards out, and as the door closed, he heard them run. “I hate this,” he sighed. 

Duke Okdranov looked at him sympathetically. 

“The Guards will keep you safe,” Mark reassured him. 

“I know.” He smiled. “You know what we should do, the moment we are back?” he told Duke Okdranov. “Push forward with the bill for the military reforms. Work on it as hard as we can, so We can give a return gift to Our Military for being so loyal. What do you think?”

Duke Okdranov nodded, looking stunned for some reason.

“But for now, I really need a drink.” He stood up. How he hoped that Vasya finished briefing the Guards soon. He did need a drink. “You know, Vasya taught me how to drink,” he grinned. Had he told them that before? 

Mark shook his head, amused, and whispered something like ‘fucking stnsks” that made Duke Okdranov smile and nod. 

Bosilik were weird, but none were weirder than Bosilik nobles. He smiled again. 

&*&*

He really needed to stop drinking that much. Nikolaj raised his head, and his neck hurt from sleeping awkwardly on his desk for the last hours. The coffee hadn’t helped much. The moment Lesnev…

“Fuck,” he murmured.

That hadn’t been a bad dream. Lesnev had come to see him. Not that one; his husband. 

Fuck. 

He believed Lesnev. He believed that Francis could be behind something so devious. He believed that his darling was in danger. But what was he supposed to do? 

Overthrow Francis, and put Anton on the throne, as Lesnev had asked him? When had a king ever behaved in such an underhanded manner? If he were to do something, that would be to declare war… which he couldn’t do, not when he was in the middle of a war against Oerestand. 

A war that was most curious…

Groaning, he got up and went to the privy. Fuck everything. He’d get some more sleep, and decide the next day. 

&*&*

Elik raised his glass. “One for All,” he shouted from where he was standing in the middle of a tight circle formed by Guards. 

“And All for One,” the Guards responded.

They all drank the wine in one long gulp, and for a second Mark was certain they would throw them down and smash them. Instead, Elik waved at them. “Good night!”

“Good Night,” they sang to him as they parted to let him pass. 

Elik came towards them. Mark noticed that his gait was slightly unsteady. He’d reached his limit after three beers and a glass of wine? “Good night, Mark. Good night, Vasya. Good night… May I call you Vassily?”

Vassily nodded, smiling. “Good night, Sire.”

“Elik. It’s always Elik after dinner.” He grinned at Vasya. “I really needed that. See you tomorrow, Gentlemen.” He turned back to face the Guards. “Good night, bye bye.”

“Good night,” the Guards sang again as Elik walked out of the tavern, two Guards in front of him and two following him. 

He turned towards Vasya. “Are you staying?”

“Oh, yes,” he grinned happily. “Are you?”

“Maybe I can stay for one more drink. Or two. Vassily?”

He nodded. 

“Drinks on me,” Mark shouted. 

“Hurrah for Mark,” the Guards sang. 

“They are always so lively,” he told Vassily, with a pleased smile. 

“I wonder if the parties were like that,” Vassily said. 

“Oh, no. They were better,” Vasya laughed. “Let me show you something,” he told Mark, hugging him by the shoulders for a second. 

He let him go before Mark could nod and headed towards the back of the tavern. Moments later, Mark saw him standing on the bar’s counter. 

The Guards gathered close in rows of five, forming a line that ended where Mark and Vassily stood. 

“Where eagles soar,” Vasya started, and Mark watched the Guards gather close and raise their arms, shouting ‘Fly, fly, fly’. 

“I’ll build my nest,” he sang as Maxim climbed next to him and waved. 

“Fly, fly, fly.”

“And I will fly,” Vasya continued as he fell down on the Guards’ waiting hands, making Mark gasp in fear.

“Fly, fly, fly.”

Filon climbed up and Maxim grinned. “I will fly,” he sang and jumped into the first rows of Guards, as Vasya rolled over and let the Guards carry him on their hands to the back, singing ‘fly, fly, fly’ with them.

“Fly so high,” Filon fell with a shout as Artyom nodded.

The Guards at the end helped Vasya down.

He came to Mark, grinning and grimacing at the same time. But mostly grinning. “Do you want to fly?”

“Fuck, no. What was that?” he asked, more surprised than annoyed after seeing how careful the Guards were as they held Vasya in their hands and moved him over their heads, and how close they stood to each other. He was certain that Vasya was supported by at least eight Guards at each moment he was moved along. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that, at the other end of the tavern, one after the other, Guards jumped down from the counter, laughing and singing, while their comrades caught them. 

“Trust. Things will be stressful from now on, and we need to remember we can trust each other at all times. Join me?” He went to the end of the line and raised his hands in time to support Maxim and lower him down.

Vassily laughed and walked next to Vasya. Mark followed him. 

“We never had such things when I was getting my basic training,” Vassily said ruefully. “We missed out.”

“It’s good for morale,” Vasya assured him. “Fly, fly, fly,” he cheered the next Guard on. “We always did it at the trips.”

Filon was lowered, and Mark hugged him. Moments later, Artyom had his arm around Mark’s waist. “Do you want to fly? We promise to catch you and never let you fall.”

“Fuck…” They both looked at him expectantly. “Yes,” he laughed and walked towards the front. He didn’t even know the song, but he was certain no one would care. How would it feel to fly? He couldn’t wait to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And if the last scene wasn’t an omake to this chapter, I don’t know what it was


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Certain muses have totally taken over, however, they seem to like stupidity and angst....

20th

“Good morning,” Vasya told them as he walked into the dining room.

“Good morning. Vasily, Vasya,” Elik started, “did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you.” He sat next to Mark.

Elik smiled at Mark and at Duke Okdranov, who were sitting facing him. “We will be at the Capital tomorrow. Have you thought about my Entrance?”

“Do you really want it?”

Elik nodded with a smile. He did! The people had to see him as he really was! Elik of Quhjan who had become of Bosilke! 

“Then, you shall have it. The Choir has been rehearsing already and today Master Anton will go over various formations that will sound good, so I apologize in advance. There will be a lot of singing today.” He grinned. “The most challenging was trying to make singing on a ship sound good.”

“Yes, that had been so much fun. I would love to have a singing ship again,” Elik smiled. Sailing was amazing!

“You may say whatever you want about Francis, but that frigate of his!” Vasya said excitedly. 

“I know.” Elik turned to Duke Okdranov. “It could hit eleven knots! Oh, the speed of it! And it had twenty-four long guns.”

“I so wanted to see them fire once!” Vasya added. “The Captain told me that it could carry smaller guns at the forecastle and the quarterdeck. The front part and the raised part behind the main mast,” he explained the moment Mark raised his eyebrow.

“I want a ship like that,” Elik smiled. “But better! Can you imagine what we can do, if we put the ship-builders that We have hired from across the continent to work together?”

“You will have either a monster or the best ship in the world,” Mark smirked.

“A marvellous monster or a monstrous marvel!” Elik grinned, but at the thought of going back to his cage, and that he would have no ships or real freedom until His Husband decided to stop Francis, he felt his expression fall. “Can we really do nothing about Francis?”

“Yes. We need His Majesty’s permission before acting.”

He turned towards Duke Okdranov. “Can we fight at two fronts? I will go to Oerestand myself, get His permission, and go against Ustvela myself.”

Duke Okdranov frowned. “I am not sure.”

“The Regent’s place is at the Capital,” Mark said, as if he needed reminding.

“I know that. But you are asking me to stay put and do nothing. I am always sitting back, doing nothing. I refuse to…”

“Your Majesty, Elik,” Vasya cut him off in a respectful, but firm tone, “You are not ‘doing nothing’. You are working for the Good of Our Empire. Even when you think you do nothing, you are there inspiring us to do our best. Please, be patient.”

Elik looked at Vasya. “Hm. I guess I can wait for a while. But if His Majesty does nothing, then I will do something.”

“Of course, Sire,” Mark told him. 

“I don’t know what, though,” he admitted. “So, you will all have to help me come up with a plan.”

“It would be an honour, Sire” Duke Okdranov said. 

“Thank you.”

Elik looked up as the servants started bringing in their food. “Oh, cold soup!”

“Really?” Vasya asked, looking surprised and happy again. 

Either Vasya was a very good actor, or he was just as oblivious as he was when it came to love! Of course, their table would have cold soup! He had to take care of Vasya, so that Vasya would take care of him. That’s what brothers did!

&*&*

Nikolaj opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Why didn’t sobriety bring wisdom? 

There was a knock on his door. “Enter.”

“Urgent letter from Duke Okdranov.”

Nikolaj gestured for Count Njedzic to come forward and bring it to him. “Can you have breakfast sent? And coffee. Thank you.”

The Count bowed and left him alone to open it.

_Your Imperial Majesty,_

_You must have received the news by now that His Majesty is safe and well, as well as a full report on the incident, so I will not waste my words on that. I will only write that I too share in the general gratitude to Luck for saving the life of His Most Gracious Majesty._

_However, I would like to formally protest and complain that, when it comes to His Majesty’s safety, then all the Council members should be familiar with all the facts, and not just the Chancellor. His Majesty is our Regent and he rules with the Council, not with the Chancellor alone (or the whispering shadow behind him that goes by the name Lesnev)._

_Your Majesty, can you inform the Chancellor that we cannot do our work when we do not know all the facts? One whisper from that shadow, and I was kicked out of the meeting regarding His Majesty’s safety after the attempt on his life as if I were a servant._

_I know I sound like a child who cannot resolve a squabble with another child at a school room, but it cannot be helped. The Chancellor has been conducting Council business with His Most Gracious Majesty on his own, even though I should be also in attendance. What is worse, that whispering shadow is there as if he is a Minister himself. That is unacceptable and leaves me with no option but to write to you, and ask you to either remind the Chancellor that he is not the only Council Member, or send the order that the Regent rules alone._

_I remain your most faithful and humble and loyal and obedient servant,_

_V. O._

“Where is that fucking coffee?” 

He got up, used the privy, washed himself and went back to the bed. The letter was still there and, even upon reading it a second time, the words did not change. He had read it correctly the first time. 

He ran out of the bedroom, into his study, and from there to the anteroom. “Your Excellency, was this the only letter for me?”

Count Njedzic nodded.

He huffed as he went back to his bedroom and read the damned letter for the third time trying to make sense of it. 

He was reading it for the fourth time, when there was another knock. “Enter.”

A servant brought in a tray, looking carefully away from him. What? Had they never seen a naked man before? Perhaps he should get dressed. And shave. And have his coffee. 

Fact: His darling was safe!

Fact one: Francis’ assassins were already at Bosilke and going after his darling

Fact two: Vassily felt slighted from Mark’s handing of affairs 

Fact three: Vassily did not like Lesnev 

Fact four: Mark and Lesnev kept secrets from Vassily 

Fact five: What one Lesnev knew, so did the other

He got up, and ran out again. “Njedzic, get Lesnev here. Now.” He turned back and then went out again. “And We shall have pages again! Find someone suitable.” He hadn’t had one since he had broken Symeon’s arm by accident. It was about time he had one again. He couldn’t be running back and forth himself like a servant. 

&*&*

Prokop looked at him worriedly. “He has been shouting all morning,” he whispered, even though he probably wouldn’t be heard even in the anteroom. 

Vuk nodded. “Good luck, Sir.”

“Thank you.” He walked into the anteroom and Count Njedzic couldn’t meet his eyes. 

Count Bitoulin sighed. “Good luck,” he mouthed. Boris and Vladimir, who were guarding the door to the study, also nodded.

As Boris started opening the door, His Majesty shouted from inside. “That had better be Lesnev!”

Oh, fuck. And he’d thought meeting His Majesty drunk was bad. This was worse. Carel took a shuddering breath behind him. 

“Ha, there you are,” he shouted. “Sit.” He pointed at a chair placed right in front of his desk. “Coffee?” he growled. 

“No, thank you, Your Majesty.” His Majesty ignored him, poured coffee in two cups and thrust one forward, forcing him to take it. “Thank you, Sire.”

“Hm.” 

He took a sip since he’d already said what he had to say. He wondered where they got the coffee beans for the Imperial Coffee. It was really good coffee. Ah, if Vasya were there, he’d find out. Vasya was so clever! He was clever in all things, but most of all with people. He sighed. How he wished he were as clever as Vasya. 

“Yesterday,” He suddenly said, “You told me that Francis has been sending assassins to kill Our Most Gracious Consort.” 

He nodded. 

“Today, I found out that one of his assassins tried to kill Him, but failed.”

“Praise be to Luck,” he whispered immediately. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” His Majesty said quickly. “This got me thinking. Why did you say “has sent”?”

“Because that was what their commanding officer told me. That King Francis had already sent them to Bosilke.”

“I see.” He lifted a letter and showed it to Grigori. “Tell me, what secrets does ‘the whispering shadow’ share with Mark? Secrets that cannot be shared even to a Council Member?”

“I wouldn’t know, Sire.” He knew Okdranov didn’t like Vasya, but had never imagined that he disliked him that much. 

His Majesty stared at him. 

Grigori stared back. He didn’t know, he didn’t know, he didn’t know. He didn’t know, he didn’t know, he didn’t know. He repeated it as he stared into His Majesty’s eyes, watching them as they widened a little. He didn’t know, he didn’t know, he didn’t know. 

“Like fuck you don’t know,” His Majesty suddenly shouted, banging his hand on the desk and making the pot tremble and roll and crash on the floor. 

“I don’t know.”

His Majesty read the letter again. “Something that happened on the trip,” he said quietly. “Something not in any report I received, or any letter from my darling. That’s the sec…” He froze and his eyes seemed unfocused, or perhaps seeing something he couldn’t see. “Someone tried it before. Killing my love. And you hid it from me.” He blinked and his gaze turned sharp and angry towards Grigori. “You and your husband hid it from me. You lied to me!” 

That was a roar, not a shout, Grigori thought. But so fucking misguided. The past attempt and its concealment were not the issue at hand; no, the issue was that Francis would continue until he was stopped or His Majesty was dead. Why couldn’t His Majesty see that? Was he so blind because of his anger at being lied? He stayed quiet and still, since he wouldn’t put it past His Majesty to kill him on the spot if he moved. 

“Bitoulin,” he shouted next. “Njedzic.”

The door opened immediately. 

“Lesnev has showed Us Great Disrespect. Ten lashes with the great whip for lying to Us, and send the order for another ten with the great whip for the other Lesnev, also for lying. Now.”

Grigori shuddered. He fell to his knees in front Nikolaj and kept his head down. “Vasya didn’t lie. It’s in his reports. I took the decision not to inform you. Punish me, but not him. Please!”

He had never felt silence so heavy. His breath sounded so loud, and his heart beat its frantic rhythm inside him. Not his Vasya. “Please,” he whispered, feeling like the walls around him were moving and pressing in on him. “I decided everything.”

“Fine,” He said finally, “since you decided everything,” he sneered, “twenty lashes with the great whip. To be given immediately.”

“Sire,” Count Bitoulin started.

“Thank you, Sire,” Grigori said even more loudly before Count Bitoulin could continue and end up whipped for speaking on his behalf. That wasn’t fair. 

He stood up, saluted Him and turned around, smiling. He couldn’t stand the thought of his Vasya suffering such an unjust punishment. He had reported the poisoning attempt, after all. As for Mark – he would definitely punch him when he was back. 

Count Bitoulin sighed deeply when the door closed. 

“That wasn’t fair,” Boris whispered.

“Do you judge His Majesty’s decision?” Grigori asked him.

“No, Sir.”

“But it wasn’t fair,” Vladimir whispered behind him.

“No judging, Gentlemen,” he told them. “Besides,” he grinned, “it was my fault for lying to His Majesty.” Like fuck he would let the blame fall on his Vasya, or Mark. 

Count Njedzic groaned deeply behind him. “Not again,” he muttered. 

Grigori shrugged. 

“Stanislav and I will administer the punishment,” Count Bitoulin told him. “If he doesn’t come to watch... you know…”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

Prokop looked at them as they walked out. “What happened?” 

“Twenty lashes for lying. To be administered immediately. Prokop, can you call Stanislav? I will need help, after all.”

“Don’t you need an inquest before giving such a punishment to an officer?” Vuk asked as he closed the door. 

“It was ten for me and ten for The Cook.”

Vuk and Prokop shared a concerned look. 

“Prokop, get Stanislav, please. The sooner we do this, the better. Tell him to meet us at the kitchen garden. You know, the one on the other side of the building.”

Where His Majesty couldn’t look down from his study window. He smiled. 

“Off the record,” Count Bitoulin told him as he guided him down, “I also think his Majesty is being unfair and you should have let me speak up.”

“On record, unfair or not, that is what He decided, and I am not to judge. Off the record? You would have been whipped with me if you said another word. And as for the rest? Caring about what happened four months ago should not be his priority, but I won’t judge that either.”

“I think you just did,” Count Bitoulin smiled. “And you are right.”

He snorted. “You said it.”

“I did. And I will say the other thing again. This is unfair and wrong.” He sighed deeply. “Stanislav and I will try our best to make it as easy as we can.”

“I know that you will. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you do your job, and that’s all there is to it. Besides, better you than someone who doesn’t know how to wield a whip.” He trusted them. Bitoulin and Stanislav knew where to strike, and they would hurt him as little as possible.

They walked out into the garden and for a moment Grigori was stunned. “What are you doing here?” Twenty of his men were there, and more were approaching from the small side entrance. 

“We thought of showing you our support, Sir.”

“That is greatly appreciated.” He smiled at them, and grinned as Pavel and Ivan brought a bench in the middle of the garden. “Military issue, I gather? Isn’t it interesting that there is always one of them somewhere?” There had been three in his battalion’s barracks, but he had burned them on a nice summer day the first year of his command. What a bonfire they had made! How merrily they had jumped over the flames!

He glanced at Evgeni with the kid, who looked pale and about to be sick. Why did Evgeni bring him along? For fuck’s sake. 

He started taking off his coat and Evgeni ran to his side. “I heard what happened, Sir, and it’s not fair.” 

“Here,” he said, giving him his coat. “I will say this once, you…” He shouted to his men who were there. “It was His Majesty’s decision, and you are not to judge it. If I hear one more ‘it was unfair’ I will….”

“What, Sir?” Milos asked cheekily.

“I will have you write an essay on right and wrong. And then you will discuss it with The Cook!”

Milos was not the only one who groaned at the threat. The Cook would be so amused to hear of this.

“We are allowed not to like it, though,” Prokop muttered.

He nodded. “That, you are.” He smiled as he took off his shirt and gave it to Evgeni. 

“You are not scared, Sir?” Michal asked him in a whisper. 

“I know it will hurt, and that it will happen. So why be scared of something unavoidable?” He smiled at Michal as he removed his locket, and put it over his clothes. “My handkerchief is in my pocket. Use it when you need it.” He walked to the bench. “Ready, Your Excellency?”

“Ready,” he sighed.

He looked at his men. “For fuck’s sake, you look like someone killed your mother. Snap out of it. If I die, then you are allowed to look like that.” 

“Out from the wheat field, we go,” Major Kamenski sang loudly, staring at him. Several of his riders were behind him. 

“See, he gets it,” he grinned. And why wouldn’t he?

He lay down. Men survived twenty lashes, he told himself as Prokop tied his legs to the bench and Stanislav his hands. Unless they got sick, wormed the thought, and he closed his eyes for a moment. 

“One, two, smile and go,” the Major and his men sang as he heard the whip cut the air. 

For a second, he felt nothing, and then pain erupted everywhere. And it would only get worse. He smiled. Perhaps he needed to ask Mark how he made his lovers submit to the whip happily when he was back. 

&*&*

The sound of a large group of men singing from behind the house made him stop writing his letter to Mark. His Quhjani riders? It wasn’t even ten, what were they doing? Curious, he opened the window and listened. Yes, it definitely was one of the Quhjani marches. Out from the wheat field, we go. One, two, smile and go. 

He smiled. They were being lively. How lucky they were, he thought, envying them. They weren’t the ones trying to write to their Chancellor that he had to change his ways of conducting government business or else… Was Vassily trying to tell him that Mark was attempting a coup? Was that it? 

And what was he to do about Francis? If he interfered in another country’s internal affairs so blatantly, it would be the same as accepting other countries to do the same at Bosilke. He couldn’t do that. 

All kings were Brothers, bound by ties that went beyond their countries. If he attacked Francis, it would like striking his brother for trying to strike his wife. And everyone knew it; brothers were for life; wives could be replaced.

Even wives as marvellous and graceful and clever as his Love. 

“Fuck,” he sighed, as the march ended and the men broke into one of those sentimental ballads that were popular at the Capital. He’d heard it before, although he couldn’t remember which one it was. Ah, young men and their simple worries. 

He envied them.

He went back to his office and tore the paper into small pieces. He should have been on the move instead of trying to soothe Vassily’s feathers, put Mark back in his place, and let his darling in the care of Luck – and Lesnev, that one, not his husband. 

He had to write to him too, and also put him in his place. Acting like a Minister. Was that punishable by law? 

Should he dismiss both Lesnevs from service? They were capable, but one was over-reaching (no doubt thanks to Mark), and the other understood nothing of how relations between kings were. Trouble-makers, both of them. 

And lying liars who lied! 

He’d had it with all the lying liars who lied to him. 

&*&*

Evgeni could appreciate that Fyodor and Kirya carried the Major as gently as they could, but he knew that the only reason the Major was not protesting was because he was unconscious. “Here,” he said as he showed them the bed. “Thanks.”

“He’s our Captain,” Fyodor told him as they placed him down on the mattress carefully. When Evgeni and Carel had tried to move him from the bench, some of the Major’s men had pulled rank on them, and these two had won at drawn lots for the privilege of carrying him to his room. 

“We’ll come to check on him soon, but if you need anything,” Kirya said. 

“I’ll whistle, I know.” They had taught them ‘help’ and ‘on our way’, so that he would know that he had been heard. How strange to know that one of the Major’s men would be within earshot no matter where he whistled in Nisdruna. How many were there? 

Despite their words, they stayed were they were, looking at the Major with a miserable expression. Evgeni knew the same expression was on his face. That had not been fair; the Major’s men knew it, and they didn’t even know half of the story! 

A tall, thin man knocked on the door. “Dr Isakin, not pleased to meet you,” he said ruefully. 

“Evgeni. Likewise. This is Carel, and Michal.”

Dr Isakin nodded, and immediately ignored them in favour of his patient. He sat beside him on the bed and grimaced. He opened his bag and applied alcohol on a towel. 

The moment he touched the Major’s upper back, the Major tried to sit up and he screamed hoarsely as he looked around wildly. 

“This hurts, I know,” he told him. “Can you hold him down, please?” he told them.

Kirya and Fyodor grabbed one leg each, and Evgeni and Carel his arms. 

“Sir?” Michal whispered, crying again. 

Strangely enough, his voice seemed to focus the Major on him. “Hey, kid,” he smiled. “All over now.” The next moment, he grimaced and cried as the doctor applied the cloth on his wounds, but didn’t scream, looking at Michal instead and trying to reassure him that all was really well with a shaky smile. 

Even more strangely, Michal also stopped crying and just stared at the Major. 

When he was finished, Dr Isakin washed his hands and applied a salve as gently as possible on the wounds before bandaging them. “I will come check you tomorrow.”

The Major nodded. 

“Thank you,” Evgeni whispered.

“You can let go now,” the Major managed to smirk.

They all pulled away as if burned. 

“Sorry, Sir,” Kirya told him. “We will be back later.”

He nodded again. 

With a salute, they left them alone. 

The Major looked at them. “Have you written to Vasya? He will be worried,” he whispered.

He glanced at Carel, feeling ashamed that they hadn’t even thought about the Captain. “No, but we will do so immediately.”

“Thank you.” He closed his eyes. 

Evgeni looked at Carel. “You were there. You write what you know.”

“Good idea,” the Major mumbled. “Give it to Bitoulin. He will send it urgent.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Ah, fuck,” he muttered before moaning.

Michal turned at Evgeni. “Sir says ‘fak’ a lot. What does it mean?”

Evgeni and Carel laughed.

“Fuck,” the Major groaned in Valentinois.

Michal blushed. “Ah.”

Evgeni nodded. He ruffled Michal’s hair. “You are not to use that word.” He took out a piece of paper and started writing what he knew, more in order to give himself something other to do than stare at the Major, than because he had information to share. He’d been Michal’s nanny during this trip, after all – what did he know?

“I think he is sleeping,” Michal whispered a few minutes later as he moved and sat next to him. 

“Good.” He needed rest to get better. 

“Genya?” Michal asked a second later, in the quietest voice he could manage. “Why did Sir have scars on his back?”

He shrugged. He had no idea, and, even though he too had been curious when he’d first seen them, he knew it wasn’t his place to ask. 

“He will have more now,” Michal added needlessly. 

“Yes.”

“Your punishments are harsh,” he continued. “We don’t have such whips at Ustvela.” He looked at the Major. 

“But we also don’t kill men for failing their mission.”

Michal sighed and nodded. 

“He will be fine,” Evgeni reassured him. “You noticed how His Excellency and his assistant tried to hit the bench with the edges of the thongs, and that they didn’t use full force when they whipped him?” Even so, after three strikes, the Major had started screaming in pain, and shuddering at each hit. 

Michal shivered, as if he too remembered the same thing as Evgeni. “It wasn’t fair.”

He agreed. “The Major said we are not to judge.”

Carel raised his head. “For someone who claims that we must think about what we do, he is very….” He growled, obviously unable to find a word.

“Perhaps he thinks that…” Evgeni looked at Carel. “I don’t know what he thought,” he sighed.

“Well, I don’t think it was fair,” Michal insisted, “and I don’t like it.” He smiled grimly. “And I have no king, no country, and I am in no one’s army now. I will say it! I don’t like it!” He got up.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some water and wash him. Sir is full of blood and sweat.”

Evgeni looked at Carel again. First, they had forgotten that they had to write to the Captain immediately, and now they had forgotten something so simple. What was wrong with them?

&*&*

The knock saved him from looking at the blank papers in front of him. 

“Your Majesty, an urgent letter from His Majesty,” Count Njedzic said, put the letter on his desk and ran out of the room. 

“Took him long enough,” he grumbled. And it looked like one of the longer ones. He snorted. To think he had been such a quiet thing when he had first married him; back then he would never have believed that he could talk that much. Or write, as the case was. 

Ah, his darling. What was he supposed to do? His inspiration had fled him! 

He broke the seal and unfolded it.

_Somewhere, 11th_

_My Husband,_

_How are you? I hope you are well! Oh, how I hope that!_

_I am well, I will start with that!_

_Someone tried to shoot me today, and then he killed himself before he could be apprehended and interrogated. I am enclosing the preliminary report on the incident compiled by M, V, Count R and Dr Van den Berg._

_I write as if I am calm, but I am not. Not really. I am only alive because V had a most horrible migraine and needed to retire. After obtaining my permission, he turned and noticed that the servant bringing our food carried the tray in a peculiar manner. The Guards did not see him because protocol says they are to be standing behind me, so they look ahead, but V was right behind me, and looking behind me and he noticed him. He alerted the Guards to the danger and covered me with his body and…_

_My Love, you know I never believed much in Luck, not like you do, and that I offer incense to Luck because you do, but … wasn’t that Luck? If V had been well, I would have been killed. If V had moved past Kolya, I would have been killed. If V had covered me by falling even slightly more to the left or right, he would have been killed._

_How many little things have to be at just the right place at the right moment for something like that to happen?_

_I can’t stop thinking of that._

_I can’t stop thinking that someone wants to kill me._

_As we were briefed about this, I learned something horrible! Someone had already tried to kill me when we were traveling. On the 27th of Spring. V told me! I admit to being angry at not being told. I was so angry, I really wanted to strike V, but he had just taken the bullet that was meant for me, so I restrained myself. And when he suggested that I whip him because he had lied by omission, I honestly couldn’t do it. Not to the man who had put his body between me and a bullet. I just couldn’t._

_And then, when he told me why he didn’t tell me about it, I couldn’t even be angry at him anymore. Do you remember the 27th of Spring?_

_Perhaps you don’t, but I had written to you all about it. It was one of the best days of the trip for me, because it was the day that I went to Dr Visser’s lecture, and I learned about the male body, and that I realised that I was not a whore as the courtiers said I was, or strange, as I thought I was. I remember that day so well, because I had come back so happy to know that there was nothing wrong with me, and I was so determined that if you loved me and you wanted me, I would make you so happy, that just the thought of making you happy had made me so glad…._

_Even now I smile at the thought of such wild happiness mixed with hope and desire, because I was so very happy on the 27th! So very happy! And V said that, when he saw me like that, he couldn’t bear it to make me miserable._

_Tell me, My Love, could you be angry for long with someone who lied to you to protect you? Especially if then you realise that they were right to lie to you, and that you could still trust them after all? I couldn’t do it, and I forgave him._

_Oh, my Love. You know how miserable I was without you, and at the thought of you not wanting me…. Enough said, you know these things already. You also know how life at Ivanhof had made me suspicious of people. If I had known then, when I was so melancholic and wary, that someone wanted me dead, I don’t even know what I would have done. V had been right to keep it from me._

_And then, as I thought of my trip after the 27th, the constant moves, the security measures on the ships (you know we would hire merchant ships, I told you - well, after the 27th, there never was any other paying passenger but us and I am certain that all the ship’s crew had been thoroughly checked), staying at the Embassy, not being allowed to go on walks, or coffee shops or anywhere really (and when I was, I was escorted by four Guards, but sometimes I would see more out of the corner of my eye, looking out for me), I realised that, even if I had known, it wouldn’t have mattered. V already had everything under control and was doing his best to keep me as safe as possible._

_How could I be mad at him? How could I not forgive him?_

_So, in order to show him that I forgave him, and that I trusted him, I wrote a decree giving him permission to keep things from Us, as long as (1) it is done with Our best interests in mind and for the purposes of Our safety, and (2) he writes official reports, so that there is nothing hidden from Us, if We wish to know, and there is a record of it in case that it is useful for future decisions regarding Our security._

_I also gave the same permission to Mark, since, as his superior officer, he is the one who gets V’s reports. I did not want to put M in a position where he might have to choose between telling Us something and revealing something that V has decided We shouldn’t know._

_You may think it foolish that I trust V so much, but HE ALMOST DIED FOR ME! HE WOULD HAVE DIED FOR ME! How can I not trust him?_

_I am enclosing copies of the two decrees._

_And now I will stop because we are approaching our next stop and I want to send this to you now. I couldn’t do it where we stopped for lunch because I was so worried about V’s health. His migraine was so bad that he threw up, his stitches opened, and he had to have new sutures. Dr Van den Berg said that if he doesn’t develop a fever in the next few days, he will heal well, but having had stitches twice is not ideal for his recovery. Dr Van den Berg also makes beautiful stitches, as befits Dr Visser’s assistant!_

_M is also very worried about V’s health. I know how big brothers are, because I am one, and I can tell you, M is more of a big brother to him than anything else._

_And now I will really stop because my carriage has started slowing down._

_Yours truly for as long as I breathe,_

_Your Elik_

_p.s. by the way, V was ahead of me already – when I am back, I will find the official report he had sent on the incident of the 27th. He may have lied to me, but not to Empire. Isn’t that remarkable?_

Nikolaj finished the letter and stared at it. 

What was he doing? What was he supposed to do? 

How he wished Mark was there so he could talk to him. He may have been conducting council business as he pleased, and insulting Vassily in the process, but he was still his best friend, the only one whom he truly trusted among his friends, the one who always had his back, the one who….

The one who kept his Empire running while he’d been off fighting here and there. The one who always knew everything, and only shared what Nikolaj needed to know so as not to burden him. If he had to go through the amount of reports Mark did, he would never do anything! He’d be chained to his desk day and night.

Mark was not lying by omission to him; he was protecting him from the minutiae and the drudgery of government business. No wonder his favourite little cousin had learnt that this was an acceptable way of doing things. 

“Fuck!”

Everything was confusing, and he knew that he was missing something. But what? He really needed to talk through everything with Mark. Or someone like him. 

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered as he realised what he’d done. Lesnev was one of Mark’s analysts. True, the Lesnevs worked better as a team, but each one of them was quite capable on his own, and he’d just had one of them whipped. He had to wait at least one day before he could ask for his professional opinion. 

He would never learn, would he? He went on the offensive first, because it was always more advantageous to attack than wait to be attacked. That worked well when he was fighting, but not outside the battlefield. When would he learn? 

Perhaps it was not too late. Lesnev and Bitoulin were more acquaintances than friends, but they respected each other. Perhaps Bitoulin had wanted to give him some time to prepare for his ordeal. 

He got up and went outside. Count Bitoulin was out, and so was his secretary, but Count Njedzic was there. “Your Excellency?”

“Your Majesty?”

“Lesnev’s punishment. Has it been carried out already?”

“Yes, Sire, just as you commanded.”

“I see. Thank you. Please, send Our Royal Physician to check on Lesnev. And where is Bitoulin?”

“He felt unwell, and had to retire, Sire.”

“Ah. Please, tell Our Physician to have a look at him as well. We do not want him to be sick. Thank you.”

He turned around, and closed his eyes as he leaned on the closed door behind him. Why was his staff so efficient?

Fuck!

He looked at the letter on his desk, thought how much he had messed up and decided that he wouldn’t deal with anything that day either. He was going to bed.

Maybe, when he woke up, he’d find out that everything was a really bad dream. The way it happened in some romances! That would be so wonderful, and then he could go back to fighting!

&*&*

Vassily approached them the moment they were about to enter his carriage.

“Your Grace,” Vasya bowed politely. 

“Vassily,” Mark grinned, “you have come to join us for Official Business?”

“Yes,” he said, looking decisive. 

“Come in,” Mark smiled. The moment the door closed behind them, he uncovered the basket immediately.

Vasya gave him a wrapped bun before he even asked for it. 

Vassily stared at them as Mark carefully took the meat out of the bread and put it in the kitten’s food bowl. “This is Official Business?”

“Yes. It is my Thinking Time,” Mark grinned.

“And it is my time to have someone else look after the Trouble-makers,” Vasya smiled. “Although, I am getting worried that you are overfeeding them.”

Mark picked up the black-and-white one from the scruff of the neck and, despite its protests, rubbed its belly. “But look at that round, full tummy! It is so cute!” He put it back down so it could eat together with its siblings. “Vassily, do you know anyone who has cats? I want to know if they are boys or girls, and Vasya has no idea.”

“I am sorry, Mark, we only have dogs at my house.”

“What kind of dogs?” 

Vassily turned towards Vasya. “Lapdogs. They are very cute, and fit everywhere.”

“Hm. I agree, small dogs are cute.” 

Mark smirked. His cousin was such a bad liar. Everyone could see he hated small dogs! 

“Honestly, we shouldn’t be having dogs at all,” Vasya continued with a regretful smile. “We are not at home that often. But I still like them, and I can’t wait to have my own dogs again!” His expression brightened. “His Majesty said I can keep them in the barracks!”

Vassily nodded. “I have missed my dogs too.” He glanced at Mark, who was watching the kittens, before turning his gaze to Vasya. “Have you decided? Will you join me for the artillery tests next week?”

“I hope so, although it will depend on my duties. His Majesty wants to resume visiting the Shrine of Ancestral Honour once a week, as he did during the previous war, so if the tests are on the same day as that, I will not be able to join you.”

“The day of the tests can be arranged.”

Vasya smiled. “Thank you.” Their carriage started slowing down again. 

“What happened?” Vasya asked as he opened the door and jumped out, letting out a loud hiss. 

Mark sighed. His cousin was not completely healed yet; he had to continue being careful with himself. Why was he jumping up and down all the time? 

“His Imperial Majesty requests your presence, Captain,” one of the Guards shouted. 

Vassily closed the carriage door. He snorted. “He’s really the Imperial Nanny, isn’t he?”

Mark nodded, grinning. That was a very good description of most of what Vasya had been doing for the last months. Even Nikolaj had noticed. 

“I’m beginning to miss His Majesty on a bad day. At least, with him you knew what to expect and how to act. With this one… All smiles one moment, and deep sighs the next.”

“Yes, I have noticed.” Perhaps he ought to discuss this with Vasya. 

“And did you hear him this morning? Wanting to declare war on Ustvela? We can raise enough men, but it will be winter before they are ready to march.”

“Then, why didn’t you tell him? You know, I have been thinking…” He picked up the white kitten that had finished eating, put it on his lap and started stroking it. 

“Yes?”

“We really need to do something about Francis. The Temperamental Imperial Child is a very popular Consort and he does work hard. It would be a shame to lose him.”

Vassily nodded. “I do find it difficult when he switches moods and goes from elated or miserable to focused within seconds, but when he is focused, it is a pleasure to work with him. So, what do you suggest we do?”

“I don’t know. Declare war on Ustvela?”

Vassily laughed. “Perhaps we should write to His Majesty and urge him to accept Lesnev’s, the other Lesnev’s plan. A civil war among Ustvelans is better than a war between Us and Them. Because, as our armies are right now, the only reasonable thing would be for Nikolaj to turn around and go to Ustvela with what he has.”

Mark nodded. In his opinion, any war that was worse on their enemies, was good for them. A war among their enemies was even better! He put down the kitten and opened his cousin’s folder of empty papers. He took one out and reached for Vasya’s writing implements. “Let’s do it. Let’s write to Him.”

&*&* 

Elik continued sniffling. “I don’t even believe in Luck,” he cried. 

Vasya hugged him a little more tightly.

“Oh, Vasya, what is mine? Even my life is his and has been for years. You know, I once told him that he was made for me, but it is not so. I was made for him. I’m not just his caged bird, I’m his…” he started sobbing again. 

Vasya let him cry until he ran out of tears. “Well, what do you say to all that?” he huffed when he couldn’t cry any more, and Vasya was still quiet. 

“I would say that Luck brought you together, and maybe you should start believing in it.”

Hm. That was not very helpful.

“Why do you see Ivanhof as your cage?” Vasya asked him.

“What?” He pulled back so he could look at him. That was not what he had been asking him!

“Ivanhof is where you live, it is your home. Why is it a cage?”

“Because I never leave it. I can’t go anywhere, and there are so many rules.”

“Who says you can’t go anywhere? Or you can’t leave it?”

He stared at him. “But that’s where we are. That’s where His Majesty installed me and where he always sends me.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to stay there. Truly, Ivanhof is safer than being in a different house every day, but it is far from impregnable. If I had my way, you would be staying in a fort. With cannons.”

Elik smiled. “You just like cannons.”

“I do.”

He grinned at Vasya’s expression of absolute certainty. 

“Ivanhof has been the Palace for a hundred years, but there is also the Old Palace in the centre of the Capital, which has cannons, may I add. There are also numerous palaces and large houses in all the land that you own.”

“But His Majesty said I was to go to Ivanhof and work from there.”

“What do you need from Ivanhof that you can’t have elsewhere?”

“The library.”

“Yes, that is important,” he told him seriously. “I have an idea. What if we went to a different palace every time you felt that Ivanhof is a cage?”

“Oh, yes, that would be good! But that was not what I was asking you.”

“I think you know the answer to your question already.”

“I do?”

Vasya nodded. 

“Hm…” No, he didn’t. 

“You called yourself ‘his caged bird’. How else would you call a caged bird? Or… what is a caged bird?”

Elik looked out at the wide meadow with the tall yellow flowers. How endless it looked, until one looked up and saw the forest at its edge. “A caged bird is a bird that has been trapped, taken out of its environment and put in a cage, where it is kept for either display or singing purposes,” he huffed. 

“So, are you saying that because you were captured? Because you were taken out of Quhjan and brought at Bosilke, or because you feel that what you do is decorative?”

“Oh… I see…” He sighed. “I didn’t think it was that complicated.” He had come to terms with his surrender to Bosilke years ago, so it couldn’t be that. Bosilke was his second country, so it couldn’t be that. He had felt that he was there just to look pretty and be the brightest ornament on his husband’s arm, but that was not true either. Unless, he still believed that all these things were still true – even when he thought they were not. He sighed. “My thoughts say one thing, and my perceptions of myself another.”

“And in what will you trust?”

“To the truth, and what will make me better.” He smiled, feeling a little silly. “Knowing yourself is so much harder than writing down lines on a paper every morning and every evening.”

“Knowing yourself is a process. I don’t know if we ever stop learning who we are.”

“And you really believe it was Luck that brought us together? That I was not made for him?”

“How could anyone be made for anyone else? Isn’t that selfish and presumptuous? No, I believe in Luck, and I have faith in Love. Love makes us better and kinder. I like believing in that.”

“It is still strange to think that I live only because Nikolaj told his men to stand back and let me and Radu pass.”

“But you also live because Radu decided to follow you and rescue you. You live because you rolled when you fell and that soldier only hit your arm, and not your back. You live because by rolling as you fell, you weren’t crushed by your horse.”

The way he had lived when someone tried to shoot him. “So many things had to take place in just the right way.”

“Exactly. And some are because of luck, but some are because of training or because of character. You rolled the right way because you had been trained how to do it. Radu followed you because he was your comrade, and Nikolaj let you go because he admires bravery in the field.”

“So, Luck is not just chance, or accident.”

“No, you also make your Luck.”

“Luck is a more complicated concept than I thought when I first came here.”

Vasya smiled at him. 

“Vasya, if a person makes their own Luck, why must I wait? Why must I sit back and let my Guards protect me, while assassins are coming after me?” Elik huffed. “I do not like it. I do not like it at all.”

“That’s their Duty, Sire.”

“I know that, but…” He sat up. “I am not a damsel in distress. My Sister calls me a Wife, and Nikolaj has tried to make me one, but… I was a warrior, Vasya, and in my heart, I still am one. This letter… made me realise what I left behind and what I am now. So, if I am to be a Wife, then I will be a Quhjani one. Our women carry weapons, and fight, when the men are not there. My Husband is not here, so I want to fight. For myself. I want to make my own luck.” 

Vasya looked at him proudly. 

“Well?”

“I am thinking,” he smiled. “This morning, you asked Mark and Okdranov to help you come up with a plan. Why don’t you ask the whole Council to help you come up with a plan and make it official? Perhaps you can declare war on Ustvela. I don’t know the details of the decree making you Regent, but Andrejevich, the Council’s Secretary, and Vladimirov, the Minister of Justice, would know if there is a clause there allowing you to do that.”

“When is the next Council meeting?”

“Whenever you wish it, Sire.”

Elik knocked on the back of the carriage, giving the signal for it to stop. Moments later, Lev approached them. 

“Lev? Please, inform Count Rasoulin that I want a Council Meeting tomorrow morning, after Our arrival at Ivanhof. Thank you.” He smiled at Vasya. “Tonight,” he said as he took out his deck of cards. “I will write to Him and thank Him for His decision to let us pass.” If he was going to be declaring wars on other countries against Nikolaj’s orders, he’d have to be very nice to Nikolaj, so that Nikolaj would forgive him. “Hundreds?” 

“Why not?”

He started removing the cards they would not need. “I really want to do something about Francis,” he repeated. “You know… if we do something that Nikolaj will not approve, Nikolaj might punish us all.”

Vasya shrugged, smirking. “Risk accepted.”

Indeed. One couldn’t be a warrior without taking risks. “It would be nice if we were sent to exile,” he grinned. “We could travel! I love traveling.”

“So do Grisha and I.” 

“I had that thought when we were at Deep Port. Remember that night that we thought that King Hans Ulrich had captured Maxim and the others?” He laughed. “Ah, Maxim! Anyway, I had thought, it would be worth going in exile for you all. I could become a singer and make my living like that.”

“I am certain you could. You have a most wonderful voice.”

He snorted. Vasya exaggerated. 

Vasya smiled. “I think that, despite our love of traveling, if we went on exile, at some point Grisha and I would like to settle down somewhere. We would have a garden, and make food out of our produce. Grisha would tend to the plants, and I would cook.” 

“That sounds nice. No, I think I would prefer traveling. Onwards and forward. All the time!” He smiled, thinking of how strange it was that he had travelled more during the years of his ‘captivity’ than during all his previous life. He hadn’t even left Quhjan before! 

Nikolaj was strange. He thought of his letter. “It’s funny that he would like me to serve under his command when he treats me as if I were made of glass most of the time.”

“Isn’t it nice, though? When someone treats you with such care?”

“It is, but sometimes, it is nice not to be treated like that.” He grinned. He loved feeling Nikolaj’s strength. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Vasya smiled wickedly. 

Elik started shuffling the cards. “I had a thought after seeing all those galleries of paintings while we were traveling. I want to make a Gallery of Beauties, and have the Ladies be painted. While they pose, they will have to be quiet,” he grinned, “and, maybe, I can also make them wonder if their portraits will be included in the Gallery. If they are nice to me, then their portraits will be up.”

“And when someone stops being nice, you could have her portrait removed.”

“Indeed. But I was also thinking, that I would like to have portraits of other figures of my court painted. Vasya, would you allow your portrait to be made?”

“My portrait? Why?”

“Why not?”

“It makes no sense. I am not a victorious general, or a Minister, or someone important.”

“You are important to me.”

“And is that a good reason?”

“It is to me.”

“Then,” Vasya smiled, “I will agree to it, but under one condition. Grisha has to be there or at least painted in a portrait that will be placed next to mine.”

He could call it ‘Portrait of Devotion or Fidelity’ or something like that, because he had never seen such a couple. And he would make a copy for the Gallery of Beauties, because they were a beautiful couple, even though he was certain that neither Grisha nor Vasya had any idea of how handsome they both were. Or, perhaps he could start a Gallery of Clever People, because Vaysa and Grisha belonged there too! “Deal. Can I deal?” he asked, pointing at the cards.

“Of course.”


	62. Chapter 62

21st - morning 

Evgeni felt a tug at his arm. “Sir is not well,” Michal whispered.

He sat up. “What?” 

“He is hot.” Michal’s eyes were huge, so full of fear he looked. 

Evgeni pushed Carel, trying to wake him up. Carel whined and gestured him away. He gave up on getting Carel to rise, and got out of the bed, following Michal to the other side of the room. There was a cot and a bed there. Two nights ago, the Major had taken the cot, leaving the bed for Michal. No one had thought of putting the Major on the cot the day before, though. 

The Major was not moving. He leaned down and touched his forehead. The moment he did, he felt dread. Michal was right; the Major was burning up. 

“Call the Doctor,” Michal told him. “I would go, but I don’t where. Please, Genya.”

He didn’t know where to go either. He looked between the window shutters. It was light out, but his watch showed that it was a little before five in the morning. “It’s too early, Michal, and I don’t know where to go either.” If he knew where the hospital was, he would go there. He’d heard there were wounded soldiers there, so the doctors and the nurses would be awake. But at this hour, he wouldn’t even find someone out to ask the way. Unless he went to the Mansion where His Majesty was staying, but… what if he were turned away? He would have wasted time.

“Then, what do we do? My mama covered me with blankets and gave me tea when I was ill, but I am scared of covering Sir’s back, and when I looked downstairs in the kitchen, there was nothing like my mama’s tea in the cupboards.”

When had Michal woken up? “My mum also made me tea, and gave me cold baths when I was feverish, but…” He glanced at the Major. He didn’t think a cold bath would be possible. “Maybe if we wet some towels and…”

“Just call for help,” Carel said in Bosilik as he got up. “I’ll go wet some towels.”

It was five in the morning, and he didn’t know where to go, except for His Majesty’s Mansion. “I’ll call for help,” he told Michal, “and if there’s no answer, I will go to His Majesty’s Mansion and stay there until they direct me to the hospital.”

Michal nodded. 

He opened one of the shutters fully and opened the glass window behind it. Leaning out slightly, he whistled for help, just like they had taught him. A second later there was a reply, and by the time Carel was back with wet towels, there was a knock downstairs. 

Michal ran down to open the door and moments later, he was running back, followed by one of the Major’s men. Usually, he was good at remembering names, but the day before, he’d been introduced to so many, he had no idea who was who. 

“The Major needs medical assistance.”

The guard nodded, went to the window, and made two sharp sounds. The reply was almost immediate again. 

“The doctor will be here soon.” He looked at the Major with worry. 

He looked back as well. Carel was placing a towel over the Major’s head. “Thanks. Erm…”

“Longin.”

“Evgeni, Carel, and Michal.” 

“I know,” he smiled. 

“How did you know where to come? Anyone could have asked for help,” Carel asked as he put the second of his towels over the Major’s nape.

“No,” Longin said. “You are the only ones allowed to use ‘help’ for now, so that we all know where to go.” He stared at the Major. “I know he forbade us to judge, but, in the name of All my Honoured Ancestors, I will not like it. I swear.”

Michal turned towards him, asking him wordlessly.

“What’s with the kid?” 

“Failed assassin from Ustvela,” Carel grinned as Evgeni translated for him. 

Longin snorted. “Another of the Captain’s strays, then.” His expression softened. “He must be a good kid.”

“I do not like it either,” Michal told them in Valentinois after Evgeni finished his translation. “So, what will you do about it?”

“Eh?”

“Sir always asked me, what do I think and, after that, he asked what do I do. So, I think this is wrong. What can I do? What will you do?”

Longin stared at the Major. He slowly smiled as he turned his gaze towards Michal. “You know what I will do?” he told him in Valentinois. “I will do nothing.” His smile widened. “I will tell my Captain I am sick.” He laughed a moment later. “Fuck, he’s already sick!”

“What would be the point of that?” Carel asked before Evgeni had the chance.

“An army can’t march when the soldiers are sick, right?” Longin saluted them. “The Doctor will be here soon, and you have everything under control, so you don’t need me. I need to talk to my friends, however. I will come by later, Gentlemen.” He ran out of the room.

Evgeni and Carel frowned. “A whole army can’t get sick in a day, can it?”

“Maybe?”

How many were the Major’s men anyway? 

Six per regiment, twice a year for the last eight years. So, 210 men per trip, and that was assuming that no men from the auxiliary units were eligible. Considering how difficult it was to get a place for the trip (Evgeni hadn’t even tried), but allowing for some over-achievers who might have managed to go twice or even thrice, maybe…. 350 men per year? For eight years? 

That was almost two regiments in total! Since His Majesty had fifteen regiments with him, that meant that at least 1100 of the Major’s men were with them at that moment. And each of them had friends, and their friends had friends, and if anyone was like Vanya or Maxim, then they had many, many friends. All willing to help their friends. Hadn’t the seventy-eight of them jumped on a boat the moment Vanya had said that they had to rescue their friends from King Hans Ulrich, and the Captain had nodded? 

But could a thousand men and their friends really bring His Majesty’s army to a halt? That would never work, unless their commanders were the Major’s friends, or the Captain’s, and told all of their men to get sick. 

Could that really work? 

&*&*

Valery looked ahead. “It will be insane.” The news for the Consort’s return had spread well before they had arrived, and even the main road leading to the Capital’s West Entrance was lined with people, all standing behind a fence formed first by the soldiers of the Greens, and after them he could spot the Greys, and he was certain that every Regiment around the Capital had been utilised to keep the peace. 

“Yes, but it will be fun,” Maxim said from behind him. 

“True.” He was so glad he was seeing the crowds from his horse, and was not among them. “Maxim, thank you for lending me your second uniform.”

“I still can’t believe they stole your traveling bag,” Peter the Tall laughed.

He grinned. At that moment, he hadn’t even thought of. “I should have expected it. Praise be to Luck, I only had dirty clothes in there.”

“Dirty socks and underwear. Eeww,” Maxim laughed.

“Eeeewwww,” they all repeated. 

“I love being in a choir,” Nikita laughed. He was riding on the third row, next to Lev. 

“I wonder what they will think of this,” Lev told them, looking at the people. 

“I wish Vanya was here,” Peter the Tall said. He was riding first, together with Leonid.

“He would have loved seeing this,” Leonid agreed.

“They will be here soon. In a week or two?”

“I think so.”

“You know who I wish were here?” Maxim said. “The Major. The Reds will be very disappointed not to see him.”

Valery sighed. He too wished the Major was there. He hoped he was well and that His Majesty had agreed to the plan. It would mean making the Captain worry for a few weeks, but if it succeeded, they would be spared months of anxiety for the Young Lord, and the Captain. 

Or maybe not; the Captain had been his usual self the previous evening, first making sure they all understood that they had to do more than their best, and then reassuring them that they could do it, because they were all in it together, and the whole always did better than the parts. They had even sung the ‘I want to fly’ song. Nothing said ‘entering full alert mode’ than that song! They hadn’t even sung it at Fladd! 

“I wonder when the Captain will let us know what is going on,” Nikita said. 

“When we need to know,” Valery replied. 

“So true,” Maxim added. “I wish the postal service was quicker!”

“Don’t we all?” The Captain said amiably as he rode beside them. “All ready? We should be reaching our stage in ten minutes.”

“Yes, Sir, yes,” they shouted.

“Good.” He grinned. “And ready for the surprise?”

“Yes, Sir!”

He smiled. “Thank you.” He raised his hand and waved to the Guards riding behind them. They may not have been able to give their Young Lord a singing ship, but they would give him a singing cavalry!

Peter the Tall and Leonid started singing. “How beautiful is Mother land.”

Valery smiled. How had the Captain known that they had all started saying this, or some form of this? 

“Forests of birch trees, so slender, so pure,” they sang.

“And green oak trees, defending warriors,” the group of Guards riding behind His Majesty’s carriage sang. 

“There’s only joy in Mother land,” everyone sang. “Only joy in living for, only joy in fighting for our Beautiful Mother land. With justice and love in our hearts. What joy to live, what joy to fight for our Mother land.”

“Mighty rivers, that cross the meadows,” Peter the Tall and Leonid sang.

“And tall mountains that touch the sky.”

“There’s only joy in Mother land,” they picked up the chorus. 

“Pure, white snow, and crystal waters.”

“Brave men, noble women, hear our song.”

“There’s only joy in Mother land,” everyone sang, and he was glad to notice that, even though the people had looked at them curiously at first, by the third chorus, some were singing along, and a lot more were humming or clapping, or even whistling to the rhythm. Quhjani music was catchier than Bosilik! He would happily bet on that! 

Being in a choir was not his real job, but how much he enjoyed it! Especially when they were singing about what they believed; one great land, where they could all live together. Their Beautiful Motherland, with the forests of birch and oak trees. Even the North was beautiful! 

He did wish that someone actually wrote ‘What joy to fuck freely in the motherland’. He had heard rumours of that song, but no one seemed to know it. 

“Under One Banner,” Maxim shouted the moment Motherland finished, and they started singing it.

By the time they had finished Under One Banner, they were in front of the Capital’s West Entrance. They slowed their horses even more as they moved to the left and right, allowing the Young Lord’s carriage to move forward under the wild and excited cheers of the people. 

Who couldn’t like their Young Lord? He was young, he was pretty, he was kind! 

Francis was such a fucking bastard! If Valery… he forced himself to stop thinking of Francis’ wickedness on that joyful day. They were home! Finally, they were home! That night, he’d sleep in his own bed! His own bed!

The Young Lord’s carriage stopped and he stepped out, looking particularly majestic in one of the new suits of clothes he had made at Aedley, an ivory silk suit, the coat covered with silk flowers from top to bottom, and the breeches with flowers where they buttoned at the sides. 

The moment he took his first step towards the entrance, they all started singing, making the crowds fall quiet again.

“Mother Land, I come back to you, let me rest home. Let me breathe your air, let me kiss your soil. Let me rest home.”

Their Young Lord knelt down elegantly and kissed the soil. When he raised himself, he looked to his left and to his right. “I am so glad to be home,” he said as loudly as he could. “How I have missed you all. I met good people during my travel, but none were as good and righteous as Our People.”

And what Valery had expected, happened. The shouts and the cheers and the whistles and the cries, they were all so loud that for a moment he flinched. His horse was better trained than him, he thought, as it withstood the insane jubilation of the people without a move. He petted its neck. His horse was a good beast. 

Waving at the crowds, the Young Lord walked back into his carriage, waited for the first group to go back in its place ahead of the carriage, and then, under deafening cheers, they proceeded towards their next stop, the Shrine of Ancestral Honour. 

&*&*

The opened letters on his desk seemed to accuse him of laziness. Well, it wasn’t like he could answer them, could he? 

He walked out of his study, surprised when he didn’t recognize the Guards outside his door. Count Bitoulin was not there either, nor his secretary. “What’s going on?”

“Count Bitoulin is still unwell, Your Majesty.”

“And my men?”

“Also unwell.”

Hm. “I’m going for a walk to the garden. If there is anything urgent, you know where to find me.”

“Yes, Sire.”

The men outside the anteroom were not men from his security team either. “I thought that Igor and Mir were on duty today.”

The guard to the left shook his head. “They are unwell, your Majesty.”

“Hm.” He turned around for a second, wondered if he should ask Count Njedzic what the Royal Physician had said about Bitoulin’s illness and if it was contagious. No, he could ask that later. 

He went downstairs and found only one guard he didn’t know in the reception room of the mansion, instead of the usual two men of his team and whoever of their friends, and their friends’ friends were there. Usually there were some ten or fifteen men there, if not more. Prokop, especially, seemed to have a whole battalion of friends.

“Where is everyone?”

“Unwell, Your Majesty.”

Hm. That was strange. “I am going to the Quhjanis,” he told them, in case Njedzic needed to find him. If someone knew what was going on, it would be Major Kamenski. Count Bitoulin also knew, but he’d been unwell since the previous day. Whatever he had, was not what his men had. Probably. Could it? 

The Quhjanis had commandeered the entertainment area of the town, only two blocks away from the Mayor’s house where he was staying, and tended to gather at the theatre, so that was where he headed. Usually, the streets would be full of his soldiers idling about, but that morning, there was hardly anyone out. Were they really sick? What was this? A sudden attack of a plague? 

There was one guard outside the main door of the theatre, and the moment he saw him, he saluted him. “Everyone is unwell, Your Majesty. No need to enter.”

He looked at the man. “Everyone?”

“Everyone.”

That was ridiculous. “Where is Major Kamenski?”

“Unwell.”

“I did not ask ‘how’, I asked ‘where’.”

“He is inside, Sire.”

“Then open the door.”

“But everyone is unwell.”

Nikolaj pushed the guard aside himself and opened the door. 

The entrance hall was full of his Bosilik soldiers and some of the Quhjani riders playing cards, or playing music, or reading. Some glanced at him, and then ignored him. They all looked very well for men who were unwell. 

“Where is Major Kamenski?” he asked, kicking lightly one of the soldiers sitting by the door, an open book in his hands.

“I don’t know, I am sick.”

Nikolaj stared at him, shaking his head. “You don’t look sick.”

“We are all unwell,” the soldier replied. “Ask our commanding officer.”

“I will. Who is he?”

“Major Rohr. But he is also unwell today.”

He glared at them, but they continued ignoring him. 

“Just tell me where Kamenski is, and I will leave,” he told them. 

A soldier singing softly while playing some type of small lute by the staircase, surrounded by soldiers who were lying around him, pointed upwards. 

Nikolaj climbed up the stairs to the first balcony. Both there, and down at the seats and the stage, Bosilik and Quhjani behaved as if they were on holiday. “Where is Major Kamenski?” he asked again, beginning to get annoyed. “Have you all declared that you are sick?”

“Yes, Sire, our commanding officers are in the know.”

And they had probably notified his Generals, who had notified Bitoulin, but he was sick, so… was that the problem in the chain of communications? That Bitoulin was sick? 

“The Major is here,” one of the Quhjani said, pointing towards the door of a box.

Nikolaj nodded, went there, and opened it. Kamenski, Bitoulin, and his three generals were there, playing cards. 

He stared at them. 

“We are all unwell, Your Majesty, and kindly request that you leave before you get sick,” Major Kamenski told him.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“I see. And for how long will you be unwell?”

Bitoulin shrugged.

“I will have you all disciplined if you don’t get well immediately,” he shouted at them.

“With all due respect, Sire,” Davin told him, “Everyone is unwell today.”

Bitoulin nodded. “It will be difficult to discipline us all when there is no one to carry out the punishment.”

“I have these two,” he said pointing to the Guards behind him, even though he knew how ridiculous a threat it was.

“If ordered to discipline anyone, we will also be unwell, Sire,” he heard from behind him.

“Then, will someone please explain to me what they fuck is going on and why you are all ‘unwell’?” He screamed. “Whoever heard of such a thing?”

“Actually, during the siege of…” Loviljin started.

“I don’t want a history lesson,” he shouted, happy to see Loviljin flinch. “What is going on?”

“We are protesting, Sire, the only way we can,” Bitoulin told him calmly. 

“About what?”

“Your unfair punishment of Major Lesnev, of course,” Bitoulin continued. 

He stared at them. “It wasn’t unfair. Exactly.” 

They stared back. “I’m still unwell,” Mrishsnan said as he looked at his cards. “Pass.”

“I’m also unwell,” Davin told them as he put down one of his cards and picked one of up from the stack. 

“What about you?” he turned to Major Kamenski. “You don’t even know Lesnev.”

“I met him briefly at Jedlowa, but I do know his husband.”

“So do I,” said Loviljin. “And there is historical precedence for this kind of sickness, Sire,” he huffed. 

“And there is historical precedence for court-martialling you all for neglect of duty.”

Bitoulin narrowed his eyes. “All your army, Sire?” 

“My whole army is unwell?”

They nodded. 

“All twenty-two thousand?”

They nodded again. 

He sat down. “Fine, you are all unwell. How can you get better?”

“Take the disciplinary action off his record, for start,” Bitoulin said.

“And apologize,” Major Kamenski told him.

“To him and the men,” Mrishsnan said, looking up from his cards. “You were wrong, so we want you to acknowledge that,” he continued. 

“If you thought it was unfair, why didn’t you protest yesterday, either orally or through a document?” 

“Because you would not have listened and you would not have read it yesterday,” Bitoulin told him seriously. 

“Yes, I w…” At their glare, he closed his mouth. They were right; he’d probably have ordered all of them whipped if they had dared say anything. “Seriously, all this fuss for Lesnev?” The man was good, but… 

“The man is a legend, Sire,” Bitoulin told him. “He has personally trained every man who has ever served as part of your security team, and surely you have heard of The Trips.”

Lesnev had trained his Personal Guard? He had no idea. And who hadn’t heard of The Trips? The first time he’d heard about them, he’d felt so envious of his men who could go. 

His Generals nodded. “If I could, I would take part,” Mrishsnan laughed, “but just getting there would kill me! That’s for young men only.”

Loviljin smiled, looking amused. “I heard he wants to go for a Trip in the winter next year.” His expression fell. “If he makes it.”

He froze. He hadn’t heard of Lesnev being unwell – truly unwell. Twenty lashes were not a death sentence. The worse that could happen was… falling sick afterwards, and after that, it really was up to Luck. Damn it. 

“Sire, maybe you should offer some incense publicly for his swift recovery as well, because if he doesn’t make it?” Davin shook his head. “I fear mutiny might be in the cards. Not me,” he added quickly. “But his men?”

Major Kamenski nodded. “And we would need to take his body back to Lesnev. I was told how you bury the dead, and I am not letting him get buried here. His husband deserves that much.” He spat on the floor three times. “Not that I want him to die. We already sacrificed a rooster for his health.”

Loviljin nodded. “I may need to join you,” he told Major Kamenski, “since Lesnev will need support at such a time. That poor boy.”

“That poor boy is a grown man,” he grumbled. “He can manage.” He hoped. That boy was mad about his husband even before they were married, and he’d only grown crazier after marrying him. 

“That poor boy served under me when he began his career. I took him as a youth and helped make him a man. He’s my boy,” Loviljin told him angrily. “Sire.”

Bitoulin glared at him. “Sire, you really are missing the point. Lesnev is someone that the best of your best men admire. By now, everyone agrees that your punishment was unfair, because it was unnecessary harsh, and because it is clear to us all that Lesnev could not have lied to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not that high up in the chain of command to keep reports from you,” Bitoulin told him, looking at him as if he very stupid. 

Mrishsnan nodded. “That’s up to his superior officer’s discretion.”

“Mark,” he whispered immediately. Who kept things from him to protect him, who had taught his cousin that lying by omission was acceptable, and who had saved the lives of his favourite cousin and his cousin-in-law when they had been two terrified boys alone against the world. Alone, but for Mark. 

They would never betray Mark, even if he did the stupidest thing in the world. Like lying to him. 

His generals and Bitoulin nodded. 

“Fuck.”

Everyone nodded. 

“Sire, you must show some remorse in public now,” Major Kamenski told him softly. “If he doesn’t make it, the men will think you killed him. And some will mutiny or defect. If it is as I hear it is, then you will lose your best men, and all their friends.”

“Act now, and that may not happen,” Bitoulin told him.

“If I start by going to see him, will that be good?”

“If you follow it with a public offering,” Bitoulin suggested. “Maybe involve the Army too.”

“If you did that, I would offer incense with you,” Mrishsnan told him. “This Lesnev is my boy.”

“If you do,” Loviljin said, “I will join you. For my boy’s sake.”

Davin smiled. “And I will join you for my men.” 

He sighed as he stood up. “Then, We will go see him now. Where is he staying?”

“I will take you where he is,” Bitoulin told him. “Gentlemen, we can resume this game later.”

“We can. I have to let my men know that there will be an offering in the near future, so they put on their dress uniforms,” Mrishsnan said as he also got up.

“Good idea.”

“I will do the same.”

“We’ll offer more sacrifices when you are done, if you want to join us,” Major Kamenski told them. 

“Yes, my men and I would like that.”

“We’ll be there.”

Davin just nodded. 

Nikolaj watched them. This really was a nightmare. All this fuss for Lesnev? He’d always thought he was the quiet shadow following after Lesnev, that one’s husband, loyal, devoted, clever, and just a little weird, but nothing more. 

If he died, mutiny would be only the beginning of his troubles! His darling would never let him into their bed, and Mark would stop talking to him. And last but not least, he’d make little Vasya sad!

How could he have handled everything so badly? How? 

&*&*

Elik smiled as he looked at the Shrine of Ancestral Honour. “Now that I know that Nikolaj saved my life, I feel that I want to thank Our Ancestors even more,” he whispered, turning towards Vasya, who walked two steps behind him, to Mark’s right, while Duke Okdranov and Count Rasoulin were to his left. 

“Really?” Mark whispered.

“Really. It’s a winter story, though,” Elik told them. “You will have to wait for it.”

After Mark and the others reached the entrance, he moved past them, turned towards the crowds one more time, and waved to the people, before going from the summer light to the modulated darkness of the shrine. 

“We shall let everyone offer incense for His Most Good and Wise Majesty after We leave,” he announced as he walked to the end of the shrine. 

“A very wise decision,” Mark told him. 

“Isn’t it? Oh, how I want him to succeed in his campaign. And maybe turn towards Ustvela next,” he hissed. 

He thought he heard a groan behind him, but he ignored it. He took some of the incense that the Shrine attendant brought to him, sprinkled it on the altar and took a deep breath. It smelled heady and sweet. “Honoured Ancestors, thank you for Nikolaj. Please, keep him safe and help him return victorious to Us.”

He waited for a few moments, taking in the scent and thanking Nikolaj’s ancestors. That man had turned his life upside-down, but had also helped save it. 

He turned around. “We would like to pray in the Crypt now, as you and the Guards offer incense.” He smiled at Vasya. “And next, We would be honoured to pray and offer incense to your Honoured Ancestors for the success of Grisha’s mission and his safe return.”

Vasya paled, Mark gasped and brought his hand over his heart, Duke Okdranov looked so shocked that his eyes seemed to take up half his face, and even Count Rasoulin’s expression was full of pity.

He looked at them. What had he said wrong? “What?”

Vasya took a deep breath. “Sire, my family disinherited me. I have no Honoured Ancestors. If Grisha and I ever adopted a child, then we would become his or her Honoured Ancestors after our deaths, but…” He shook his head. 

Elik gasped, shocked. A Bosilik with no Honoured Ancestors? How could that be? That would be like him having no ancestral spirits, and be cut off from his line. That would be… no, that was horrible. So very horrible! 

Well, he wouldn’t put up with it. 

He grabbed Vasya’s right arm, making everyone gasp. “Then, you shall share my Honoured Ancestors. You are my brother; you will pray with me.”

“Sire, no,” Vasya murmured, looking terrified. 

Mark seemed too shocked to speak. 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Duke Okdranov told him quietly.

“Well….” He said, his eyes falling the dagger worn to the side of the sword on Vasya’s sword belt. He pulled it out of its sheath, surprised that no one stopped him, cut a thin line across his left arm and then a line just as shallow on Vasya’s right arm. He threw the dagger down next, grabbed Vasya’s right hand and pressed their arms together, feeling a slight pain coming from the minor wound. “There, we are brothers now,” he said, staring in Vasya’s eyes. He still looked scared. “Yes,” he repeated. “We are now brothers.” He turned to glare at the others. “Does anyone doubt it?”

They stared at him without saying anything. They still looked shocked, but since they didn’t speak, he was content.

“Good.” He took Vasya by the arm and led him down to the Crypt.

That area always felt colder than the upper level, and there was something about the line of marble coffins that made him shiver. The dead belonged to the earth, so they could return to the Mother land, and the spirits join the ancestors. This type of burial felt wrong to him, but this was his home now. He had to get used to it. 

“Sire. You shouldn’t have,” Vasya told him suddenly. 

“Why?”

“One needs to be adopted into a family, or marry into one in order to share Honoured Ancestors. One can’t just…”

“Well, one can at Quhjan. And since where I am, it is also Quhjan, I can do it.”

“Yes, Sire,” Vasya sighed.

Elik smiled at him. “It’s done, and one can’t take it back. You are my brother now, and I am yours. I can write a decree, if it would make you feel happier.”

“It’s just not done.”

“So?” Elik looked at him seriously as they stopped in front of the coffin with Nikolaj’s parents. “Here,” he said as he knelt in front of the coffin and made Vasya join him. “If they object, they will show their displeasure. If they agree, they will us their favour.”

Elik touched the coffin. “Touch it, and ask them. If they are your Honoured Ancestors, they will grant your wish. Isn’t that what you say?”

Vasya shivered. “Something like that.” He stayed still. 

Really! Elik grabbed his wrist and made him touch the coffin. “Brother, ask them. Look, I will start. My Honoured Ancestors, this is my brother, Vasya. Please, accept him into Our family. Tell them,” he urged him. 

“Please, accept me, Honoured Ancestors,” he whispered, still looking scared of what Elik had made him do. 

Elik sighed. “Honoured Ancestors, I come here to thank you for giving life to Nikolaj, and for bringing me to Nikolaj’s path. Thank you. Please, grant him success in his endeavours, and bring him back as he is, and victorious.” He turned towards Vasya again. “Come on, ask them to bring Grisha back. As he is.”

Vasya made a tiny sound at the back of his throat, before taking a deep breath. “Honoured Ancestors,” he said quietly, “Please, bring Grisha as is he is back to me.” He closed his eyes and let his head rest on the marble. “Please, if you accept me, bring my husband back as he is. If you do not accept me, let us die, and grant us peace. Please.”

Elik shivered. Wasn’t that bad luck for Bosilik to wish for death? 

He waited as Vasya stayed where he was, touching the coffing with his hand and with his forehead, and looking like a statue that someone had placed there. Finally, he moved back and smiled at Elik. “Thank you. I haven’t spoken to any Honoured Ancestors for so long,” he whispered with a soft expression, overcome by emotion. 

“Now you know where to come if you need to ask for anything,” Elik told him brightly as he stood up. 

Vasya rose as well. “Yes, thank you. If they accept me, I will.”

“Why wouldn’t they? You’ve been the best brother any person could have. Any family would be proud to have you. I know I am,” he said as they started walking back. 

“You are very kind.”

“I try to be. I have this big brother, you see, and he is really nice. I want to be like him.”

“You should want to be yourself.”

He smiled. “I want to be myself, but my brother has qualities I admire. These, I would like to have. Also? I want his recipe for pancakes!”

“That you will have only when you beat him in ten games straight.”

Elik groaned. He had expected that. “Can I at least have them for breakfast?”

“Today, you can have them for dinner too.”

Elik grinned and tried hard not to shout with delight. As Irina said, he had the best brother in the world!

&*&*

After funerals, he hated hospital visits the most. The smell of sick people, the moans, the quiet resignation in the face of the doctors and nurses; he couldn’t stand them. And this visit was even worse; even though they only had eight wounded men, and so, the hospital should have been quiet, this time it was busy. Insanely busy. This was where his soldiers were. 

Prokop’s battalion of friends were in the courtyard. He recognized several of them. There were at least a hundred men between the entrance and the room where Lesnev was, and nine of the Guards of his security team were outside his room. Even he had never slept under the watch of all ten of them. And they all turned their backs on him the moment they saw him. 

Major Spalk had been the first, and everyone copied him from the courtyard to outside Lesnev’s room. If he weren’t so angry at his own handling of the situation, and still unable to understand how he could have made such a mistake, he would have been mad at them. Only his own Guards didn’t do it, opting instead to ignore him. 

He supposed he was lucky his darling wasn’t there. He’d probably be up on the roof with his Guards singing songs about injustice. 

How had he done this? And he knew he was missing something. What? 

Bitoulin nodded at Mir and Igor, and they let them in Lesnev’s room. Lesnev was lying on his back on one of the two beds in the room, a dark-haired young man and Yulian next to him. The young man was sponging his nape, using water from the basin in Yulian’s hands. The Guard that had followed Lesnev around and that tenor who’d sung so beautifully together with his darling at Sorain were sitting on the other bed with miserable expressions. When they saw him enter, they all ignored him.

For fuck’s sake. “I’m sorry,” he told them.

Lesnev’s escort spat on the floor. Yulian glared at him for a moment. The other two pretended they hadn’t heard him. 

Bitoulin closed the door behind them. “How is he?”

The tenor sighed. “Sleeping again. His fever fell a while ago, so the doctors gave him some bark tea, but then he fell asleep.” He sighed again. 

Nikolaj went to one of the chairs and sat down. Lesnev was far too still and his bandages were bloody. No wonder the Guards and all the men he had trained thought he would die. He shivered, thinking of that unnatural stillness of dead people. He didn’t want to think of Lesnev like that. Not Vasya’s husband. 

He covered his face with his hands for a moment. “If you were my friend, you would have protested yesterday,” he told Bitoulin. “You would have stopped me.”

“Could I have?” Bitoulin sat on the chair next to him. “Sire, you were blind and deaf with anger.”

He looked at Lesnev. “He lied to me. Too many people lie to me, Trifon. I’m tired of it.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Lesnev’ escort shouted, standing up and glaring at him. “That happened months ago. That is not our fucking problem right now.”

The tenor looked horrified. “Carel,” he whispered, tugging at his coat.

Carel froze, and he too looked as scared as the tenor. He shook his head a moment later. “No,” he said, his expression betraying that he didn’t care about what happened to him anymore. “You want the truth? This is the truth. The Major was right; your priorities are all wrong. Francis wants to kill Our Young Lord, yet you punish the Major for someone else not telling you that his husband and we foiled an attempt against Our Young Lord’s life four months ago?”

“Carel,” the tenor said even more urgently. “Stop it.”

“I will not. The Captain and the Major always ask: Why. So, I am asking you, Why? Why do you care more about a lie than the threat to Our Young Lord?” 

He stared at the young man. Why? 

The only sound in the room was Yulian’s whisper to the dark-haired man.

Why? 

“Well?” The young man challenged him.

“You’re all so fucking loud,” Lesnev whispered. His voice was hoarse from screaming. 

“Captain,” Yulian said excitedly. “I’ll get you some tea.” He put the basin down and ran out of the room. “He’s up again,” he shouted as he closed the door. 

They were acting as if their own Noble Mother was sick. No, better than that; he’d never cared for his Noble Mother like that. 

Lesnev turned his head and looked at him. His eyes were still feverish, and he looked sick. The kind of sick he hated seeing.

“I’m sorry,” he told him honestly. “I am.”

Lesnev nodded, accepting his apology. He was suddenly glad for Bitoulin. He would tell everyone what Lesnev had done. He’d still need to offer incense, of course, and get everyone involved, but this nod would do more towards making his soldiers better than if he prayed to Luck the rest of the day.

“I overreacted,” he continued, noticing how the dark-haired youth ran next to the tenor and the tenor started whispering to him. 

“Understatement,” Lesnev told him. “So, do you know why?”

“Sir, you should rest,” the young man told him in Valentinois. 

“It is my body that hurts right now, not my mind, Michal,” he replied to him. “Sire, why?” he switched to Bosilik. 

Not that again. He groaned. “I hate liars.”

“Good. But why do you care more about the lie now?”

“Because I know that my darling is safe. Your husband will keep him safe.”

“For how long? Francis won’t stop.”

“Of course, he will. How many times will he try?” he snorted.

Lesnev closed his eyes for a few moments, making him wonder if he fell asleep again. “Until he succeeds,” he finally murmured. “He believes he’s right. Carel, tell him.”

Carel nodded. “He believes that if His Majesty is dead, then Anton will abandon the idea of staying loyal to Bosilke, and Bosilke will become weak. He believes he is doing what is best for his country, so he will not stop until His Majesty is dead.”

He frowned. “But you asked me to do the unthinkable. Depose a rightful monarch not by means of war, but by cunning and subterfuge. You asked me to cheat, and if I cheat, then others may do the same at Bosilke.”

“Francis is already cheating,” Bitoulin huffed. 

Lesnev nodded again. 

“But wives can be replaced, Royal brothers can’t.” 

The tenor made a disgusted grimace. Carel spat on the ground again.

“Can you replace him?” Lesnev asked him. “I couldn’t replace Vasya.”

“No, but he will be safe. He has the Guards and Vasya.”

Lesnev opened his eyes and looked at him with disappointment. 

Dusya opened the door and came in with a mug. 

He smirked. “You’re one of Mark’s intelligence people. What is your professional opinion on this?”

“Let the Captain rest, Sire,” Dusya grumbled as Bitoulin and Carel rushed to help raise Lesnev so he could drink. 

“If anyone was trying to kill His Majesty, police, intelligence, and security would do everything to find and arrest the culprit,” Bitoulin said. “Why is Francis different?”

“Because if I overthrow him, then I am saying to other kings that they can overthrow me too.”

Lesnev took a sip and then looked at him tiredly. “In my professional opinion, Francis will succeed, because his people also believe he is right. And then, you will show to other kings that you were either too weak to protect yourself and your husband, or that you never cared about your husband.”

Bitoulin nodded. “I agree.”

“So, either way I am opening myself to attacks?”

“Attack first, and you show that you are a force to be reckoned with, Sire,” Bitoulin told him. “That you will not allow any foreign powers to interfere with our domestic affairs. The way Francis is doing.”

Lesnev nodded, closing his eyes. “Or you will do it after the fact, and go against Ustvela. Like you did with Ivanof and those who harassed His Majesty, making you investigate and punish them now.” He opened his eyes and stared at him. His gaze was steady. “When Francis succeeds, you will start a war. Let us go against him now, and save the lives of our people and our soldiers. Please.”

“I see. Your opinion is noted.” He stood up. “One more thing.”

Dusya and Carel glowered at him. “Sire,” Bitoulin whispered, annoyed. “Let the man rest.”

He looked at Lesnev, who looked about to fall over again, and he nodded. “You are right. I am sorry,” he said again. “I will go ask Luck to be with you and help you recover now.”

He snorted. “Thanks.”

He walked towards the door, where he stopped and turned back to look at Lesnev, who was still sipping his tea. “You are the clever Lesnev,” he told him admiringly.

“Oh, no, Vasya is the clever one. He would know all these and more, like why your priorities are not straight. He really is so clever!” He smiled, closing his eyes. 

What the fuck had he done?

This was really just like the mess after Ivanof had tried to take his throne. He’d lashed out publicly at his love, forcing him to leave, and… 

He stopped in the middle of the corridor, where his Guards ignored him and everyone had turned their backs on him again the moment he’d stepped out. Didn’t he claim to anyone who would listen – and those who would rather not – that he loved his darling with all his heart? Why was it so easy for him to say that he could replace him? Or kill him? Or let Francis kill him? Didn’t he love him? He thought he did.

One, or probably both, Lesnevs would know why he could say such things. 

What in the name of All His Honoured Ancestors had he done? Luck had to make Lesnev well, because how else could he ask him, or Vasya? 

“We will pray to Luck for Lesnev’s recovery,” he shouted. “We know that we treated him unjustly, so Luck must help Us rectify Our mistake.”

Bitoulin nodded. “Luck must help, since Lesnev had accepted your apology,” he said, supporting him. 

Nikolaj sighed. “Men, with me.” He pointed forward and strode out of the room, satisfied that they followed him. 

Luck had to be with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone is curious, they never wrote the new version of the Coming Home song, because Elik was not in the mood to work that day! lol


	63. Chapter 63

21st – afternoon/evening 

Elik looked at Ivanhof as his carriage slowly moved into the courtyard in front of its main entrance. “It really is so old-fashioned,” he told Mark. “If things were different, I would tear it down.”

Mark grinned. “You should do that with His Majesty. He loves designing houses.”

“Really? I had no idea.” He smiled. “Maybe one day, when things are better, we can play a game of make-belief. What would we be, if we weren’t what we are? I would be a sea captain,” he said, full of excitement. 

“And Nikolaj would be an architect.”

“What would you be?”

Mark shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.” He grinned again. “It must be so very naughty if you don’t want to tell me. Fine, you can keep it a secret for now, but if we ever play that game, will you share it?”

Mark nodded. 

His carriage finally stopped. As one of the Guards opened the door for him, the rest of the Council stepped forward from the left and Lady Ekaterina with their wives from their right. Elik stepped down.

He had forgotten how they all bowed and curtsied with such grace. Even King Charles’ Royal Dancers did not move with such economy of movement. They really were warriors first the Bosilik, trained to be efficient and precise. He smiled at them. “Ladies, Gentlemen, I am so glad to be back and see you all again.” He gestured for them to rise. 

“Your Majesty, we have prepared a feast in your honour,” Lady Ekaterina said, glancing at her husband for a moment and smiling prettily just for him. 

He frowned. Hadn’t they received his summons? “We are most grateful, however, there are urgent matters that We need to discuss with the Council. Gentlemen.” He started climbing the stairs, knowing that everyone was following him. 

How strange to be back without His Husband there to lead the way, but as he had managed being Emperor-in-the-place-of-the-Emperor that far, he would manage now. And here, he would have even more help. He turned and smiled at Lady Ekaterina and her husband. “My dearest Lady, after lunch, we will have tea and you will tell me all your news. Oh, I am so glad to be back.”

Strangely enough, he realized that he meant it. He was glad to be back. And if he didn’t like being at Ivanhof, he could always go to another palace. How wonderful was that? 

&*&*

“So, this is what we know. Gentlemen.” Vasya gave them a sharp nod. “With your permission.”

Elik nodded.

“Thank you.” Vasya bowed deeply and left the Council Meeting Room. 

Elik stood up. “Gentlemen, We trust in Lesnev’s skills to keep Us safe, but We refuse to wait.”

Mark and Duke Okdranov looked at him exasperated. 

“Since you all agree that it is His Most Wise and Powerful Majesty who has the right to declare war on another country, We would like to know your opinion. We would like us all in this Council to reach a decision as to what is best.”

“What do you want, really?” Mark asked him.

“I want to send a messenger to My Most Noble and Kind Husband and tell him that we all think that he must do something about Francis,” he huffed. 

“Do what?”

“Can we fight a second war? Honestly.”

Duke Okdranov and Duke Theissen looked at each other. 

“Mr Treasurer?” he asked Duke Theissen.

“Financially, we could.”

He smiled.

“However, we would need to rely on auxiliary units,” Duke Okdranov said, “to outfit them, gather and send provisions and material support ahead of time, and of course, make sure they are fight-ready. We will not be able to do that before the end of autumn.”

He sat down. “So, we have to wait?”

“Either that, or tell His Majesty to abandon his current war, and turn towards Ustvela. We do not have an army large enough for fighting at two fronts at once.”

Duke Theissen nodded. “We need to expand the number of our free citizens before we can recruit more men. We could hire mercenaries, but… Can we trust them not to sell their services to another while under our employment?”

Mark shook his head. 

“We have to push forward with reforms,” Elik growled. “What about Lesnev’s plan. Not this one’s, the other’s.” 

Duke Andrejevich sighed. “In my opinion, Sire, it is a good plan, but I fear His Majesty will not accept it.”

“What?” He turned towards Mark. “It is a good plan, why wouldn’t he?”

“It is not noble enough,” Duke Andrejevich said. “And I will put it in writing, if you wish, Sire.”

Not noble enough? What did that even mean? 

“No, that will not be necessary, Mr Secretary,” Mark told him. 

“So, we really can do nothing?” That was…. Francis would keep sending assassin after assassin after him, and he would simply sit and watch as His Guards did their duty and took bullets for him? What if someone succeeded and killed him? He did not want to die. He had Work to do, and friends who loved him, and whom he loved. 

Mark took a white, sleeping kitten out of his pocket. Everyone stared at him. “What? I am thinking. You should all try thinking with cats. It is most efficacious.”

Elik and the other ministers watched Mark as he stood there, stroking the kitten. Mark seemed absorbed in whatever it was he was doing. Whatever that was, it made the kitten blink once, close its eyes and purr loudly for the rest of the time. “Well?” he asked after a few minutes of that. 

Mark smiled grimly. “Sire, You do not have the right to declare war, and, in case, it will take months before we can fight. But, if we all agree, we can sanction Grisha’s … Lesnev’s mission. I think.” He turned towards Duke Andrejevich. “Can you check the document His Majesty left with all the powers that the Regent and the Council has?”

Duke Andrejevich gestured to his secretary, who nodded to his under-secretary, and who ran out of the room. 

“We still need to wait for a few days, in case His Majesty has decided to authorize it himself,” Duke Vladimirov said. 

“What if he decides not to?” Duke Andrejevich asked him. “He really won’t like it,” he said regretfully. 

“Then, legally, we need to abide to His Majesty’s decision,” Duke Vladimirov told them.

“Then, let us decide now,” Elik insisted. “If it is within our powers, let us sanction it now. That way, if he rejects it, then we can say that we acted independently and based on the facts we had.” King Richard would tell him that he was taking over the ship, but he did not care! Wasn’t he His Husband’s equal? His King? 

How could they be One Mind In Two Bodies, if he were to die? No, he refused to die like that, waiting for someone else to act. His Luck was not what Nikolaj wanted. His Luck was what he made of it based on his character, and his training, and all the things he could not control – like Nikolaj, and his love of ‘noble’ things. 

Mark nodded. “It is an emergency. We can say that we could not afford to wait for His decision.” 

Duke Okdranov nodded. 

The kitten stretched and yawned and Mark put it on the table.

It was quite distracting, and very cute! “Seriously? Thinking with cats?” Elik asked him as the kitten started exploring its new surroundings, and everyone watched it with fascination. 

“Lesnev brushes Oleg’s fur when he wants to think, so I thought, why not?”

“Really? Is that what he’s been doing?” He had thought it was because he loved dogs that he wanted to help him take care of Oleg.

Mark grinned. “He says it’s relaxing, and when you are relaxed, then you can think.”

“Maybe I should bring Oleg to the next Council Meeting,” he muttered.

“If you do, Sire, could I bring one or two of my dogs?” Duke Okdranov asked him.

“Of course. Gentlemen, why don’t we all try thinking with animals at the next meeting? Anyone who has pets, they can bring them in the office.”

Mark smiled at him, while the others grinned. 

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Duke Vladimirov asked Mark. “What is its name?”

“I have no idea. When the Lesnevs are together again, they will name it.”

“Ah.” He looked like he wanted to ask something, but then changed his mind. 

After a knock, Duke Andrejevich’s under-secretary appeared at the door and brought a folder that he placed in front of him. “With your permission, Sire.” Duke Andrejevich opened it and started going over the documents. “There is nothing about sanctioning military operations,” he concluded after a few minutes. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Duke Vladimirov grinned, “that legally, you can and you can’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“Since it is not written that it is within your powers, it is not clear whether you have that power or not.”

Elik smiled. “So, we could sanction it.”

“And if His Majesty protests, we can say we didn’t know we couldn’t do it, because it was not written, so we thought that we could,” Duke Andrejevich said. 

Elik smiled. “So, who is in favour of authorizing Grisha’s… Lesnev’s plan?” He raised his hand immediately. 

Mark and Duke Okdranov raised theirs at the same time. 

Duke Theissen raised it, grinning. “If it succeeds, it would be cheaper than war,” he told them. 

Duke Vladimirov also put his hand up. “I’m curious to see whether it is within the Council’s powers or not.”

Duke Andrejevich kept his hand down. “He won’t like it.”

Mark and the others glared at him. “It has to be a unanimous decision, according to His Majesty’s decree. Raise your hand, please,” Duke Vladimirov told him.

“But…”

“You have been overruled, Adam. We can have it on record that you disagreed,” Mark added. 

“Or vote again?” Elik lowered his hand. “Who is in favour of the motion to authorize Grisha’s plan?” He asked, hand going up again. 

This time, everyone agreed. 

“Thank you,” he smiled. “But…” he sighed, and watched as Duke Okdranov and Mark shared a look, “Two questions. We know what Grisha is planning, thanks to Valery’s report, we have the plans of the castle and, soon we will have confirmation of the drawing of the area of the castle. First question: who can actually do it? And, question number two: how do we make sure that we don’t have two teams trying to do the same thing, and messing everything by accident?”

Duke Okdranov frowned. “Grisha… Lesnev most likely would choose some from among the men who took part in his trips, but I have no idea who these were.” He turned towards his secretary, who shook his head. “Maybe one of my staff will know,” he said, disappointed. 

“Maybe we can think about it over lunch?” Mark asked. 

Elik nodded. What were those trips? He would ask later. “Yes, let us do that. Gentlemen,” he said as he got up, “I was told there is a Feast for Us?”

“Sire, if I could have a moment of your time?” 

“Of course, Chancellor. Gentlemen, I will see you soon.”

“Here, take the kitten back to Yusta,” he heard Mark tell his secretary. “And I will thank Lesnev personally for the loan.”

He grinned. “You really asked him for one of the kittens,” he said when they were alone, completely alone. “I can’t believe that you did that.”

“I am not skilled enough to steal one of them,” Mark smiled. “As for your questions. I know the answers.”

“And?”

“Vasya knows all of Grisha’s men and our contacts at Krzydzov. He can select the members of the team.”

Elik smiled. “These two are truly One Mind in Two Bodies.” He so admired them. Would he and Nikolaj ever become that? Perhaps not. What did it mean that Nikolaj would not agree to a plan to stop someone who wanted to kill him, because the plan was not ‘noble enough’? 

Just as he’d done earlier, he decided not to think about it. “And the answer to the second one?”

“I am not sure how, but Vasya will know.”

Elik grinned. Of course, he would. His brother knew everything! “Then let us have lunch, and then ask Vasya.”

“Indeed, we will ask for his professional opinion.”

He took a deep breath. It was nice to be home. He really had all the help he needed there.

&*&*

Vasily looked at the Barracks of the Reds. For a moment, he wished he had the time to go see the newly named Red Creatures of Chaos, but it would be better if Grisha showed them to him. He patted his horse’s neck before spurring it on. 

If he were wrong, he would have just lost his first lunch at Ivanhof as a Count. Small loss. If he were right, though, then he would have put His Majesty’s plan into action faster. Great gain! 

It was his professional opinion that His Majesty would not be pleased with any solution that did not involve him doing something. He had decided that he would not sit and wait, and Vasily could not have been prouder of him. So, what would He do? Since declaring war was not an option for His Majesty here, and he doubted His other Majesty would abandon his war on Oerestand, what else would His Majesty here do but approve Grisha’s plan?

He was certain of it. 

Just as he was certain that, instead of sending someone to His other Majesty’s camp to find out if Grisha had left already, He and the Council would decide on sending a team to act independently. And then, they would mess everything up, unless everything was co-ordinated with someone who was aware of Grisha’s plan, someone like one of the Huntsmen currently serving under His other Majesty. Those men were just as gossipy as his own men and shared everything among themselves. And with him, on occasion. 

He galloped close to the entrance and then slowed down. “Mirko, Prokhor, good day to you,” he saluted the Guards stationed there. 

“Major?” Mirko gasped before remembering to salute. 

Prokhor turned around. “The Major is here,” he shouted. 

Within minutes, whoever had returned from patrolling and keeping the peace at the Capital during His Majesty’s entrance seemed to be running to the Courtyard. 

Vasily smiled. He was in a hurry, but these were Grisha’s men. He dismounted, and found himself surrounded by soldiers in red uniforms and unable to take another step. Ah, how Grisha would have loved seeing them. 

“Major, Major,” they shouted at him, some looking concerned, some happy. 

“Are you well?”

“How is the Captain?”

“Is he really on a mission?”

“You are back!”

“Tell me you have come to relieve me of command,” Alec’s voice boomed over every other sound, and the men started parting to let him pass, murmuring among themselves. 

Alec approached him quickly. Even there, he ran rather than walked, and the frown on his face seemed not only permanent but deeper. “Welcome to our madhouse,” he smirked. “How are you? And how is your husband?”

The soldiers went completely quiet, eager to hear news.

“I am well. I got a scratch but it’s all better now. As for Grisha, he is on a mission. May Luck be with him.”

“May Luck be with him,” Alec shouted and all the men with him.

“And what are you doing here?”

“I think Grisha will need help so I came to take a few things from his office. Off the record,” he grinned. 

“Of course,” Alec nodded, smiling, and together they tried walking to the building where the staff had their offices. There were just so many people around them, hindering them and listening, eager to hear news of Grisha. News he couldn’t share. “A fine mess he left me,” Alec growled. “Leaving me all the regiment to run.”

“I apologize on his behalf. Grisha would have loved to be with you today,” he said loudly, “but duty keeps him behind.”

“We would have gone with him,” he heard someone say, and several others agree.

“Maybe next time,” he smiled. 

“That would be good,” Alec snorted. “He can have all of his battalion in the next mission, and take them off my hands.”

“He would love nothing more,” he nodded, making the men shouted ‘hurrah’.

“Enough,” Alec grumbled. “You’re giving me a headache. How is the Captain?”

“He was well when he left. If Luck is with us, he will be back in a few weeks.” He stopped. “Since the Captain is on a mission, why don’t we offer incense to Luck for him? I will take the things I need, and join you in a few minutes in front of the Altar.”

The soldiers started dispersing more quickly than if he would have ordered them.

Alec shook his head, smiling. “Thanks, I thought they would never move. Do you ever wish your men loved you as much as Grisha’s men love him?” Alec asked him seriously. “I do.”

“I’m certain they love you too, Alec.” He grinned. “Grisha’s men too. If they didn’t, you would have known about it. Besides, a commander should want the respect of his men, not their love.”

“That was not what I asked you.”

“You know? I’ve never really thought about it.” He smiled. “I want to do my best for them, and I hope they respect that. That’s all I want.”

“Whatever you say, Lesnev,” Alec huffed, looking just a little frustrated. “When is he coming back?”

“Soon, I hope.”

Alec stared at him and then resumed walking towards the building. “How was the West?”

“Marvellous! But you know what I discovered? The most marvellous thing is right here. Almost no one there has running water, and there are no public bathhouses either. Most people at the West stink. It’s horrible.”

“I see,” he chuckled. “But you still called it marvellous, even with the lack of personal hygiene.”

“Ah, it was. It was so interesting to see different people and how they do things, and…” He smiled. “Also, the food! They eat potatoes there! I got so many recipes!” He grinned. 

“Honestly, I don’t understand your obsession with that stuff. Yours and your husband’s.”

“They are tasty and nutritious and don’t need much to taste well. Boil them or bake them, add a bit of salt and…” He sighed happily. “They are so good even plainly prepared like that.” They tasted good without salt too! He still remembered the taste of the first potatoes he had ever eaten. They had tasted better than anything at his parents' estates, because that was the first food he'd ever made himself, and he'd had it with Grisha! 

Alec shook his head. “Madman,” he whispered in his family’s dialect of Aedleian, looking at him fondly. 

He smiled again. Yes, he was mad, and so was Grisha. They were happy being mad together. They had survived those days when all they had was potatoes; they would survive anything. Or meet again. 

“When will we hear more about his mission?” Alec asked him when they were alone in Grisha’s office. 

"I don't know, but I really hope he succeeds.” He smiled at Alec. “When he is back, we will invite you for a proper potato feast! I will make …”

Shuddering, Alec took a step back. “You collect what you need to collect,” he cut him off, “and I’ll see you in five minutes.” He truly ran as he left the office, remembering to close the door behind him. 

He laughed. Nothing made people run away from him quicker than a discussion of potatoes. Except perhaps a talk on cameos! 

He hadn’t even seen what cameos Grisha had sent him, he suddenly realised. What value did things have, after all? They were useful, but everything you could hold in your hands was worthless in reality. 

The thought that he would have enjoyed them if Grisha were there was instantly pushed aside. He had work to do. 

He started gathering Grisha’s notebooks with the names and addresses of all the Huntsmen that had taken part in his trips. He would not consider the ones from the last two, since he didn’t know them, nor anyone from a regiment outside the capital. Even so, there were more than four hundred names to go through. He had to check Grisha’s notes on them against his own notes, and then whittle them down to twenty-five who’d have the skills to take down a garrison efficiently, and persuade the nobles of Krzydzov to support Anton. 

Knowledge of Ustvelan could be an additional criterion for selecting them, but he’d probably need to think of one more or this would take him all week, and he didn’t have all week. Perhaps by hair colour? He grinned. They should all have dark hair, like Grisha. Laughing, he continued taking them down from the shelf. 

He had just finished putting the notebooks in his satchel when there was a knock on the door. 

“Enter.”

One of Mark’s servants approached him and handed him a folded paper with Mark’s crest outside.

He opened it. 

_Where are you, Lesnev? HM and I had a couple of urgent questions for you, but you were absent from the banquet hall, and you know that no one is allowed there after HM._

_You are a member of the court now – behave like it._

_Since you missed lunch, please, join us for tea! I am writing our questions, so you can think of your answers by the time you meet us:_

_HM and the Council authorised G’s plan this morning and we have decided to send our own team there, in case N rejects G’s idea. Needless to say, none of us has any idea who would be the best man to do it, nor how it will not interfere with G’s team (in the case he actually did get it authorised)_

_So, you should know who, right? And how? Right? Right? Vasya?_

He smiled. Putting the note in his pocket, he started writing his reply. 

_Your Grace,_

_I apologize. This will not happen again._

_Next time I am absent from lunch or dinner because of work, I will apologize in advance._

_As for your questions: I am already working on who will form the team, and I know how to make sure that our team will not interfere with G’s team._

_I apologize for not joining you for tea, but forming the team should take precedence, don’t you agree? I will join you for dinner, though. I promised HM pancakes for dinner and I will not break my word to Him._

_Don’t worry, I will make some for you and E_

&*&*

Stepan still looked stunned. Roman hugged him by the shoulders, encouraging him as they stepped into the main Courtyard of their Barracks. 

“The Capital is so big!” Stepan finally gasped. 

“It’s almost as big as Aedley,” Lev told him. 

“But prettier. There are so many gardens and parks everywhere. It doesn’t feel as oppressive,” Sila said. He smiled. “Brothers,” he shouted, “We are home!”

“Home!”

Stepan smiled as Maxim hugged him. “Your home is pretty too, Stepan.”

Stepan nodded. “Your home is also nice. I liked the gardens, and the Shrine was so big. As for Ivanhof…” He looked back, past the gardens, where the roofs of the Palace gleamed in the sun. “You could fit a town in here.”

Roman nodded. “I think it’s as big as Sorain.”

“Possibly bigger,” Nikita said. “Their Majesties own all the land around it.”

Asei pointed to the east. “And that’s where our village will be! Brothers, we will have our very own village.” He sounded as excited as if he said that for the first time, which he wasn't. 

Roman and Stepan smiled at each other. How wonderful would that be? 

“The Captain said he’s arranged for us to meet with the architects and the engineers to discuss how the village will be. We can build it as we want,” Nikita said excitedly. 

“We must have a central square for all the Grannies,” Roman said, smiling at Stepan. That was Vanya’s vision. “Although, Vanya will be sad to miss the meeting with the architects and everyone else.”

Kolya stopped. “Then, the meeting will wait. What if we started making plans, and when Vanya and the others come, we will show them to them?”

“I can draw them,” Maxim grinned. 

“I can help,” Lev said, raising his hand. 

“Yes, we can think of how we want our houses to be, and how they should be arranged.”

“I wonder if there will be space for each house to have a garden at the back,” Stepan smiled. “You have gardens around your houses here, but we always have them at the back at Jedlowa. That would make Granny feel better.”

“And your Mother,” Roman smiled. “I can’t believe she took everything she could take with her.” He really hoped there would be space for everything in their new home. If she could have taken the house, she would have done it. 

“I can,” Leonid grinned. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he stage-whispered. 

“What?”

Leonid waited until they had all taken their seats at the tables, went to the middle of the mess hall and raised his hand. “I have a confession to make,” he said loudly as soon as they stopped talking among themselves. 

Everyone looked at him. 

“I confess… I love Quhjani knitted tablecloths. I have one table in my room, and yet I bought twenty of them when we were at Jedlowa. I can’t wait for our village with our houses to be built so I can show them to you.” He nodded and took his seat amidst cheers and whistles.

Jan stood up. “I confess… I love Quhjani teapots. I bought several sets, and when the baggage train is here, I will invite you all for tea.”

Peter the Tall was next. “I confess… I love Quhjani sausages in flatbreads. I can’t wait for a Mama to teach me how to make them.”

The cheers were the loudest by far.

Stepan stood up. “I confess… I love you, Guys, I love all of you.”

He sat down and Roman hugged him as tightly as he could.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” Maxim shouted over the ‘hurrahs’. 

Ah, that Maxim! When he was right, he was right. He kissed Stepan. He really was home. 

&*&* 

“With your permission, Sire,” Mark told Elik as they followed him out of the Great Dining Hall, “May I speak privately to My Lady, before she joins you for tea?”

Elik nodded, smiling at them. 

Mark took her hand and she smiled. “When will you show him His Majesty’s house? It is complete,” she whispered.

“After tea? There hasn’t been a chance so far.”

She nodded. “I noticed. I hope he likes it. As you had suggested, we have left the library empty for him. But… that wasn’t what you wanted to talk to me about, was it?”

Mark shook his head as he led her into the first small drawing room he saw. He made her sit down. “Wait here, please.”

She nodded, smiling. 

Ah, how beautiful she was! He looked at her for one more moment and then he went out. he gestured for Filon and Artyom to approach, before making them go into the room. He closed the door behind them.

“My Lady, this is Filon, and this is Artyom, my very good boys. My boys, this is my wife.”

Ekaterina raised an eyebrow and studied them. “Very good boys, I agree,” she purred. 

“Do you approve of them?”

She smiled. “Oh, yes.”

Mark looked at the Guards. “And you? Do you approve of this?” They had discussed it the night before, and they had seemed amenable, but… one never knew. 

They studied his wife as critically as she appraised them. 

“I’ve never been with a couple before,” Filon said, “but you know me, first I’ll try and then I’ll decide,” he grinned. 

“I’ve never been with a couple either, but it looks like fun,” Artyom smiled. 

Mark hugged them, and they immediately kissed him on the cheeks. “My good boys,” he said as Lady Ekaterina stood up and embraced them before standing on her tip toes to kiss him on the lips. 

“My good husband,” she smiled. 

“My good wife,” he replied. “Boys?”

Filon and Artyom kissed Ekaterina gallantly on the cheeks.

“That’s the best you can do?” she challenged them. 

Filon and Artyom shared a look. 

“You will be late for tea,” they sang to her.

“I’ll say we had a long discussion.” 

He nodded as Filon and Artyom shared another look. 

“May I?” Artyom asked.

The moment they both smiled, he fell to his knees and slipped under Ekaterina’s skirt. 

She shivered. “Oooh,” she gasped with delight. 

“May I?” Filon said and Ekaterina nodded. 

He started unpinning her stomacher from the left, and Mark started taking out the pins of the right side. Moments later, the stomacher was on the floor and Filon leaned down and pulled the ribbon that laced her stays closed at the front with his teeth, smiling up at her.

“Mark,” she trembled, “What good men you have there. Oh, yes, there, faster,” she encouraged Artyom. 

“They are very Special Guards,” he grinned. How beautiful she was when she was in the throes of passion. 

“My Lady,” Filon said. “May I?”

“Yes, yes, please,” she moaned. 

He grabbed the neckline of her chemise and pulled it down, revealing her breasts. 

“How lovely,” Filon said with true appreciation before taking one nipple into his mouth. 

Mark joined him. How wonderful her scent, how hard her nipple, perfect for biting. He scraped his teeth against it.

Ekaterina hugged them both. “My Men,” she moaned. “More!”

&*&*

Vasily smiled at the sight of the Royal Kennels. He would have dogs!

When Grisha came back, he would love them as much as he had learned to love Grisha’s kittens. And if Grisha didn’t come back? His Majesty could use some more companions. 

He had to start building their own crypt, hadn’t he? Maybe near the birch trees? And he would plant flowers at the entrance. Even if they didn’t get buried there, it would be nice to have it. 

But that was for later. He turned towards Nika and Stafik. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me at such short notice and here of all places, Gentlemen.”

“It is our pleasure, Sir,” Nika replied for both of them. “What can we do for you?” 

“I have a mission for you all. Grisha needs our support, and so we shall give it to him.”

“Yes, Sir,” they shouted.

“What do I need to do?” Nika asked.

“Nika, I know your network is more efficient than mine.”

Nika grinned. “Yes, Sir, it is.”

It really was. “I want you to notify all the Huntsmen stationed at the Capital to be ready at a moment’s notice. I will brief the ones selected for the mission tomorrow, and I want them riding out immediately afterwards, so they must be ready.” 

“What else?”

“Stafik, I want you to ride to Oerestand, to His Majesty’s camp. Grisha is there, trying to get the same mission authorised, but…” He took a deep breath. “You know how slow the postal service is? It is quicker to have a back-up team ready, rather than wait to hear if he got the authorisation or not. So, I want you to ride ahead and find out if he got permission for it, and then meet the team at Ystrina. If he got it, well...” He smiled. “You will tell the team, and you can all ride back at a reasonable pace. I mean that. If it takes you two or even three weeks to come back, then so be it.”

Nika and Stafik nodded. “And if he didn’t get it?”

“Then you will continue the mission, because His Majesty here has authorised it and it must go ahead, no matter what.”

They shared another look. “You want to over-ride the chain of Command? Stafik asked him curiously.

“I want us to do what His Majesty here wishes. But mostly, I agree with Grisha in his assessment of the current situation, and I want to support him and bring his plan to fruition for the sake of peace in our land.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you,” he saluted them back. “Good luck, Gentlemen.”

He watched them go, wishing he could join them, but that was also a thought for later. When he turned back and saw the entrance to the Kennels, though, he only had one single thought. He could have dogs! 

He hurried there, and found Piotr, His Majesty’s games keeper waiting for him inside. “You Palace people are all so idle,” he muttered. “As if I have nothing better to do than wait for your Graces.”

“I am sorry for my tardiness. And I am not a Grace or anything like that.”

Piotr made a face. “I don’t care what you are. You Palace people are the same, all of you.” He huffed as he started walking towards a door. “Per His Majesty’s instruction, we have started training all the dogs to live with cats,” he said, looking as if he couldn’t believe what he had been forced to do, and that people who wanted to have cats and dogs live together were mad. 

He should have expected His Majesty to be so thoughtful. Ah, how kind he was, and noble of heart. “That is most wonderful. Thank you.”

“We have excluded dogs that proved unable to be trained,” Piotr continued as they walked out of the building into a large courtyard, “but these ones,” he said as he pointed at a large, enclosed area full of Tanovik dogs playing around with their tails wagging, “have all learned to accept the cats we showed them. Whether they will accept your cats, is another matter, of course.”

“Of course.” So many dogs! “I am to have two pairs, according to Their Majesties’ decree,” he said, in case Piotr didn’t remember.

Piotr looked at him seriously. “Are you sure? Do you have space for them and their puppies? Their Majesties may have ordered it, but if you won’t take good care of them, I will not let you have them.”

He nodded happily. He had a big garden, and they had land. And the barracks! “I will take the best care of them. You may come check their new home, if you want.”

“No, I’ll trust you. But if you mistreat them, I will find out, and take them from you.” 

“Deal,” he told him immediately. 

Piotr led them inside. 

How many dogs! Vasily stayed still as the dogs started approaching Piotr. Oh, many dogs! He couldn’t wait to have two pairs home! “Thank you.” He grinned. His Majesty was truly marvellous! 

&*&*

Dima brought him a folded note. “Thank you, Dima. Tell me, what do you think about Lesnev? Vasya, not Grisha.”

Dima smiled. “He’s nice.”

“Do you think you would be happy working for him? He has too many duties, and Yusta can’t help with everything.”

Dima’s eyes widened. “Your Majesty,” he gasped. “You think I am good enough for…” he lowered his voice, “Intelligence?”

He nodded, smiling. “Do you think you can make it there?”

“Sire,” he shouted, grinning. “Yes!”

“That’s wonderful. Please, wait until I see what’s here, in case you need to send my reply.”

He opened it and recognised the handwriting immediately. 

_Your Majesty,_

_Why don’t you join us for tea in the Garden? Dima will show you the way_

_Your very humble servants,_

_E M / M M_

He smiled. “Dima, Lady Ekaterina says you know where to take me?”

Dima nodded. 

“Thank you. I think working with Lesnev will be good for you, but I will miss you, Dima.”

“Maybe I can join the Special Guards in a few years? I can’t sing well, but I can dance.”

“That would be so amazing, Dima. You know, you are right. We should have a proper dance group together with the Choir. And a separate group of Musicians. That would be so nice!”

Dima laughed as he guided him out to the garden, where Mark and Ekaterina were waiting, Artyom and Filon behind them. Interesting!

He offered his arm to Lady Ekaterina after she curtsied, while Mark stepped beside him. He ignored the whispers coming from the Guards behind him. They too probably wanted to know what Lady Ekaterina had thought of meeting Filon and Artyom. He was also curious, but he had to wait. “Where are we having tea? I don’t see anything.” 

“You will see.”

He smiled at her. “We did miss you, Our Dear Lady. I’m sorry I didn’t write to you much.”

“I understand. You wrote that there would be changes? May I ask what kind of changes?”

“I am still thinking about them. His Majesty’s war changed a lot of my plans.”

She shuddered. “We will start wearing brown and grey again and visiting the Shrine of Ancestral Honour weekly?”

“Yes,” he told her firmly. 

She pouted for a second. 

“But I was also thinking that, instead of brown and grey, you should wear the same clothes.”

“What? But, Sire, that would be so boring,” she cried out.

He turned and nodded towards the Guards. They instantly tried to look serious, but he could see that he had interrupted them. “I think uniforms are marvellous.”

“We will wear coats and breeches?” she asked, raising her voice and looking horrified. 

“No, Dear Lady,” he laughed. “You will wear Court Dress.”

“Whoever heard of that?”

“No one. It’s my idea. I admit that seeing you all in your beautiful dresses is just too wonderful for words, but for official functions, like visits to the Shrine, wouldn’t it look nicer if you all wear the same clothes? Maybe Ladies of different rank could use different colours? For example, purple would be only for Imperial Princesses, red for Duchesses, blue for Countesses, and Green for Baronesses. What do you think?”

She looked at herself, and turned to her husband. “Mark? Is red a good colour on me?”

Mark looked at her. “Oh, yes,” he nodded. “But let’s ask two less biased people. Filon, Artyom?”

They nodded enthusiastically.

“Then,” she turned towards him with a sweet smile, “I like the idea.”

“I was also thinking,” he continued, “that maybe the dresses would be embroidered with symbols of our land, flowers and birds and such things.”

“That is a great idea.” 

“And to make the Ladies even more pleased with the Court Dresses, I thought of asking them to produce their own designs, submit them to a committee, and have the committee decide which will be the winning design.”

She looked at him curiously for a moment, and then she smiled broadly. “Sire, what a splendid idea!”

That would keep them busy for a while!

“Who will be in the Committee?”

“I haven’t decided yet, it has to be men of…. I know,” he grinned. “Alexandre! We will send all the designs to Sorain to His Most Excellent Highness, who is a man of impeccable taste. Or maybe… the best ten. He is a busy man. My Lady, you, the other Duchesses and the Imperial Princesses will form that first committee to select the ten best designs.”

“Why should a man at Sorain decide what we will wear? Or a man, for that matter. We should decide ourselves.” 

She sounded so much like his sister, that he couldn’t help grinning. “You are right. I apologize. You should select the best design for Court Dress yourselves.” That would really keep them busy! 

They reached the bathhouse. “Is this where we will have tea?”

“No.” She led him behind the structure. “Here.”

It was a small building, cleverly positioned so it was out of sight until one moved around the bathhouse. “What is this?” He had never seen this before. 

Mark stopped in front of the door. “It’s a house. His Majesty designed it himself and had it built while you were away.” 

They led him inside. “This will be the antechamber, where your secretary can work.” It looked a bit like Count Rasoulin’s office in his suite of rooms, but smaller and with less gilding on the walls and the furniture. 

“This, the reception area,” Mark continued as he led him to the second room. Ah, there was the gilded decoration he was used to. 

“This is the study, all ready for you to fill it with your favourite books,” its walls appropriately lined with empty shelves. 

“And this is the cards room, and the whatever-you-want-to-do room,” Mark laughed. The whatever-you-want-to-do room was completely empty, making him glad for that.

“And the dining room.” Small enough for no more than twenty people. It was tiny, compared to the dining rooms at Ivanhof. He could see himself hosting a few friends there, but … he couldn’t fit all the Guards.

“The kitchen is right after that.” Mark opened a door, showing him a large, bright space. This was a lovely room, he thought immediately.

“Upstairs are,” Mark said as he led them up the stairs, “a second study, four more whatever-you-want-to-do rooms, and the bedroom,” that was full of gilded walls and was dominated by a bed that was big enough for six. “This door leads to the privy, and this to the bathroom.”

Ekaterina smiled. “The bathroom is the best room.” She opened the door. The tub there was also massive – for six, or eight. “It has hot running water.”

His curiosity was peaked. At Ivanhof, the water that ran from the faucets was cold, and then they had to wait for it to be heated through the means of pipes that brought hot air to a space under the tub to heat them. It was a system described by ancient authors, and created after experiments of the engineers, since the exact ancient technique had been lost. Or so His Husband had explained. But HOT running water? “How?”

“Water is heated in cauldrons at the basement, and then pumped up through pipes.”

“Pumped up?”

Mark nodded. 

“Show me.”

Ekaterina turned a spigot and steaming water soon started pouring out of the faucet. “The engineers have not figured out how to control the temperature yet,” Mark smiled as he turned on a second faucet, “so hot water must be mixed with cold until the water in the tub has reached optimal temperature for bathing.”

“And is the cold water also pumped up?”

“Yes, just like at Ivanhof.”

“How marvellous,” Elik gasped. 

“Nikolaj wanted you to have your own space,” Mark smiled at him. “Whenever you hate it there, you can come here.”

“Ah, how I wish he were here,” he sighed. “I do miss him.” Even though Nikolaj confused him. “Can we have tea here?”

“In the bathroom?”

“No, downstairs. In this house.”

“Of course, Sire,” they both smiled. 

“And… what plans are there for dinner?”

Lady Ekaterina smiled. “Tonight? No plans. We thought we should let you rest. Tomorrow, there will be a feast at the Great Banqueting Hall, though.”

“We need to think what to do with the Courts,” Mark told him. 

“Excuse me?”

“Well, there is one of you, and two courts. How would you like to divide your time between them?”

Elik stared at them. “Why should I? Other kings have mixed courts. As Emperor-in-the-place-of-the Emperor, I too will have a mixed court.”

Both Mark and Ekaterina gasped and looked at him scared. 

“You will see,” he grinned. “It will be fun.”

Lady Ekaterina’s eyes shone. “Fun! Oh, how I have missed having fun all these months, Your Majesty.”

&*&*

Piotr had told Vasily that he had to introduce the kittens carefully to the dogs, but that it would also be good for the dogs to get used to him, and his home. Oh, well… they would get used to his office first. 

He went up to his office and grinned at Private Sukhov, who was sitting at his secretary’s desk. “I have dogs,” he said as he let them loose to sniff around cautiously. “Where is Private Prilips?”

“Ill, Sir. Food poisoning.”

“I hope he gets well soon. Sukhof? You may have the rest of the day off.”

“Thank you, Sir!” The young man almost upturned his chair in his hurry to get up and salute.

Grinning, he went into his office. Inside, all the kittens were curled on his chair and sleeping peacefully. There was water in their bowl, and they had eaten all of their food. Yusta always took care of everything so well. 

Petting the kittens once, he took out his notebooks from his desk drawer as quietly as he could. Then he went out again. Sukhof had already left. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall, and started reading as one of the dogs settled next to him.

If he started correlating Grisha’s and his notes as he went through the names, this would go faster. And the moment he had the first twenty-five men who fulfilled all the conditions he thought Grisha would have, he would stop. Maybe…. 

If he were lucky, he might even finish by the time it was time to go make pancakes! A second dog came to lie beside him and he grinned. 

He had dogs! 

&*&*

Valery looked at his room. Even though the Captain had given them all the next morning off, so they could go to their homes and rest if they wanted, he’d still preferred to sleep in the Barracks.

His room was small, with just a bed, a desk, and a chair, as well as chest for clothes and a small sink for washing his hands and face. But this was more home than home was. Having dinner at the Mess Hall, washing at the communal baths, and sleeping in his own room. He loved his home. 

Tiredly, he took off his dressing gown and lay on his bed. His bed! He’d slept in bigger and softer beds but his bed was the best. He closed his eyes, and yawned. How wonderful to be home, was his only thought before sleep claimed him.

&*&*

Elik looked at their bed. How big it was. Yet, how much bigger was the bed His Husband had installed in their retreat. Was he planning orgies? And he wasn’t sure about the furniture. Even their newly-built retreat looked old-fashioned compared to Western ones. 

Tiredly, he yawned and fell onto his bed. It really was big without Nikolaj. He closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around Nikolaj’s pillow and sighed. How far he had travelled, and for how long. How he missed traveling. 

But being home was good too. His friends were there, Vasya had everything under control and he made him pancakes for dinner, and Nikolaj had made a new space for them. When Nikolaj came back, together they would make it into their home. After they had a very long talk about ‘noble’ things. He smiled, and immediately fell asleep. 

&*&*

Three more letters were waiting for him on his desk by the time he had returned from offering his prayers to Luck together with his army. From Vassily, Mark, and Elik.

He sat down heavily and looked at them as if they could move and bite him. 

He started from the one Elik had written, since he was certain that his letter would be the easiest to read. By the time he had finished it, he knew he was wrong. The whole letter was nothing but a series of praises for V; how great he was, how he was handling his security, what plans he had. An armoured carriage? What on earth would that be, and how had he come up with that idea?

Damn it all, both Lesnevs were equally clever. He couldn’t afford to lose either of them. 

Maybe Vassily’s would have been easier?

_12th of Fire Month,_

_Your Imperial Majesty,_

_I have been very hasty in my previous letter. I have misjudged L. completely._

_Since you, in Your Infinite Wisdom and Exalted Position know everything,_

Nikolaj snorted. As if.

_I will be honest. After You had raised us from our humble places to our current lofty ones, the Chancellor also promoted Lesnev shamelessly and without any other obvious reason except for their family connection. V Lesnev was unremarkable before his promotion and even after that, he has had an undistinguished career, has fought no more bravely than any other of your captains, and has shown no signs of being worthy of such an honour. Up to yesterday, I thought that he should have been promoted when it was his time to be promoted, the same way as any other capable but mediocre officer._

Mediocre? Only an idiot would think that! Or someone who really hated Vasya. Among his intelligence officers, he had picked Vasya himself to lead his darling’s Special Guards. Did Vassily think he would have chosen someone mediocre for such a task? 

_Unlike his husband, I may add, who truly deserves to be called a Legend among our armies, and should be promoted further! Why is he still a Major is truly a source of wonder – the man should have been made Colonel years ago and be on review for becoming Major-General this year or the next. It is such a shame that he is in a non-combatant regiment – the men would go through fire for him. Can you imagine what he would be like on the battlefield under Your Command?_

Nikolaj groaned. Why didn’t he know anything? ‘Go through fire’ was an understatement to what the men would do for Grisha. 

At least Vassily didn’t seem to know everything either, and had no idea what either Lesnev really did. One didn’t send intelligence officers in the frontline. No, you kept them safe, threw reports at them, and let them do their work. On occasion, you might let them fight, but for the most part, you held them back. And threw more reports at them. 

_But after working closely with him for just one day, I realised how very wrong I was. V Lesnev is capable and smart, and he would be such an asset for my office! I would move him to Development, since that is where his true talent lies. He thought of an armoured carriage! Whoever has thought of that?_

_I know that Lesnev is a member of His Majesty’s staff, but also that he works very closely with the Chancellor. Your Majesty, as clever and intelligent as the Chancellor is, he cannot tell a cannon ball from a mortar shell. Lesnev is wasted at his office. He should be in Development, working under me!_

_Since I am certain that he would never willingly accept a transfer to my office if I offered it, could you please, suggest it Yourself?_

_Please forgive your servant, and, My Lord, grant this humble and small request!_

_Thank you for reading, and I hope you will fulfil such a trifling request._

_I remain your most faithful and humble and loyal and obedient servant,_

_V. O._

He groaned. Vassily truly was like a child running to the teacher the moment he had a petty argument with another of his school mates. Why couldn’t he have told Mark that he thought his behaviour was unacceptable instead of pestering him? Why couldn’t he have asked Lesnev if he wanted to go play with men who could tell the difference between cannon balls and mortar shells? 

Both his and his darling’s courts were broken, but in different ways!

He sighed as he opened Mark’s letter. 

_12th of Fire Month,_

_Your Imperial Majesty,  
You have read the report on the incident of the 11th, so I will not write anything about it except but say how glad I am that Luck was with His Majesty._

_I know I should have written yesterday but – Your Majesty, may I address you as my friend from now on? Because I am not writing as your Chancellor, but as your friend and, most importantly, as Vasya’s cousin._

_Nikolaj, when I saw Vasya get hit yesterday, I panicked. All the things that he and I had done and known, would be lost, unless I shared them with someone else. But who can understand but you?_

_Remember how Vasya had brought you a bottle of wine for your sixteenth birthday, and you told him that were so proud that he stole it for you? Well, the truth is, he had asked for permission to take it, and he was so embarrassed (and a little pleased) that you thought him capable of stealing, that he couldn’t tell you the truth._

Nikolaj smiled. That had been a very good wine, and he’d been just as impressed that Vasya knew enough about wines as with the stealing. Had he chosen it himself or asked his father? Did Mark know about that? 

He suddenly realised what Mark meant. It wouldn’t be just Mark losing someone who remembered these things; he would lose him too. 

_Or, when, a few days later, on Ekaterina’s birthday, he gave her a book of poems as a present and she read it out loud until Vasya fell off the tree he was sitting, hurt his arm, and we had to take him back home? The truth is, he had seen that you and I hated the poems, but he couldn’t figure out how to stop her on her birthday, so he fell down deliberately so as to spare us from dying from boredom and her feelings from being hurt. I can’t tell her that – but I can tell you._

He grinned. Oh, what a day that had been! First, they had breakfast on their own without any adults in the room and Sashenka had given her a tiny brown puppy that she had put in her basket and carried it around all day. Then, they went for a walk, and as soon as they were away from the house, Mark had gone off with her to give her something special for her birthday, and they’d both come back dishevelled and looking flushed. 

Once Vasya had found a nice place for them to stop and have snacks, he had given her a bracelet, and Vasya that book. Those poems had been so utterly horrible, in High Valentinois full of rare adjectives, as if they were in a language class. Then Vasya had fallen off the tree, Sashenka had started crying and crying and crying and wouldn’t stop even when Mark carried him home, and Ekaterina lost her new bracelet on their way back. Once home, Mark’s parents had to send a whole army of servants to find it, only for Ekaterina to find the bracelet among the ruffles of her skirt as she changed for bed. 

What a day that had been! Something always happened at Mark’s estate when he visited! How wonderful were those summer days at Mark’s. Better than summer days at his estates, better than summer days at his cousins’ summer palaces. And they were even better when Vasya and Sashenka visited. 

_I would have written yesterday, but when he got hit, it was not Lesnev who was hurt, it was my cousin, so I had to make sure he was well. And when he had to have new stitches because his migraine had been that bad that he managed to break the first sutures throwing up (you know how suddenly they come and go, and how terrible they are when they happen – you were there the first time they attacked him), I couldn’t leave his side. Only if you had asked it, I would have left him, because, if he is my favourite little cousin, you are my chosen brother._

_I do miss my cousin, Nikolaj. I want Vasya, not Lesnev. I miss him so much. I miss him even more now that I have been spending days with him, and not just the hour or two when he delivered his reports to me. Nikolaj, he may have grown up, but he is still our little Vasya._

_I know I should be writing as your Chancellor at this time, and I will, but I needed to tell someone who would understand why it frightened me so much to see Vasya hurt. As much as I love Ekaterina, and she is one of my best friends, there are things that I can’t tell her. Things only you and I can understand. Like the story of The Kiss! Remember that?_

He felt himself get a little hot in the face, and in the belly. The Kiss! How could he ever forget that? 

_I can’t share these stories with our other friends, including the Ministers, because they already think that I am favouring him undeservedly because he’s my cousin. I can’t even share them with Grisha because I feel shame that we were walking around in the forest doing nothing, while he was working from before dawn to after dusk._

_Enough, you will tell me, and you will be right._

_Writing now as your Chancellor, Lesnev is worried this is not an isolated incident. Remember how you had told me that Lesnev had been doing nothing during the trip except ‘baby-sitting’ and making sure that His Majesty did not get drunk? I had told you then that he did more than that._

_Back at Fladd, on the 27th of Spring, someone put poison in His Majesty’s food. When I got the report, I was certain it was an unrelated incident, and more likely an accident, since they found a coachman, recently hired by our Ambassador, dead by his own hand soon afterwards. That coachman had been having an affair with the Ambassador’s Cook, who was also having a tryst with a couple of the Guards (I can’t remember which ones without reading the report again – but that is at the archives at Ivanhof)._

_So, even though Lesnev insisted that it had to be an attempt against His Majesty’s life, I had thought it really was a stupid, angry man’s attempt at getting back at his cheating lover by poisoning the food, and, when he realised his mistake, he had killed himself to avoid apprehension by the police (food for servants, guests, and family in the Ambassador’s kitchen is the same, and prepared in the same area – it would be easy to put poison in the wrong plate if you were trying to do it stealthily and in a hurry)._

_Since to me this was an accident and the intended target was someone else, I thought that there was no reason to make you worry needlessly over the safety of His Majesty. Lesnev, after all, had written to me how he was planning to handle His Majesty’s security, and I was quite happy to let him handle things as he wanted. A little additional security never hurt anyone, I thought, but added worry is never good (even more so when it is not necessary)._

_After yesterday, though, I must admit that I was wrong in my assessment of the seriousness of the situation and that Lesnev was probably right. He is taking us back to Ivanhof as soon as he can – although unhappily, since His Majesty, Vassily and I agree that His Majesty must show he has Your Favour (also? Your husband is worthy of you – he refuses to show fear!). If Lesnev had his way, we would have stopped only for changing horses from here to the Capital._

_Writing as your friend and Chancellor: Grisha will be so angry with me when he is back (he might even punch me – I know he will be that angry). When we got Lesnev’s report, he tried to persuade me to inform you, rather than think of it as an isolated incident that shouldn’t concern you. I ignored him._

_I feel that I have made such a mistake, Nikolaj._

_If someone must be punished for it, then it must be me._

_As always, I remain your most humble and obedient servant, and your devoted friend,_

_Mark_

“Fuck you, Mark, why couldn’t you have written a day earlier and sent this by urgent dispatch?” He sighed. 

What a total mess. 

He stood up and went out. “I am going to the hospital,” he told his guards. 

He knew he’d find Bitoulin there, and his other members of staff. If they weren’t there, he’d wait for their arrival in the morning, while praying for Lesnev’s recovery. 

He couldn’t fight a second war. Or could he? Vassily would know, but the generals also would have some idea. And if he were to do what Lesnev had suggested – who might know the details of his plan? Or know which men he would choose?

Ah, he was such an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one day, Nikolaj will stop blaming others for his actions. this day, is not that day....


	64. Chapter 64

22nd

This is stupid, Nikolaj thought to himself. He had spent hours outside Lesnev’s room, while everyone and their aunt came, peeked inside, and all looked at him as if he were some wicked, evil monster. He was an idiot, not a monster! “I’m going in.”

Longin glared at him. “He needs rest.”

“I just want to see how he is.”

“He is unwell. Really unwell,” Major Andreyev told him as he came of out of Lesnev’s room. 

“And you? Are you all unwell today?” He finally asked what he wanted to ask them for hours. 

His Guards shared a look and nodded. 

He turned to the major. “You too?”

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “He’s one of my friends. I am not leaving until I know that he’s better or…” He spat three times on the floor like the Quhjani did. 

“Wonderful,” he muttered. He stood up. “I’m still going in.” 

This time, Longin moved away from the door. He opened it softly. Lesnev was still in bed, shifting a little under the covers, while the tenor and the dark-haired youth were sharing the other bed. Carel was sitting on the chair, looking sharply up from his contemplation of the floor as soon as he opened the door. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see how he is.” He moved the other chair close to Carel and sat down. “It’s his fault, you know. He insisted on taking the other Lesnev’s punishment.” 

Carel’s eyes opened wide. “Unbelievable,” he muttered angrily. “You blame him for getting ill after you punished him?”

“No,” he protested. “I am just saying, if he had been smart about it…”

Carel shook his head, looking too annoyed to speak. He stood up. “Since you are here, I’m going to get something to drink. If anything changes, make yourself useful and wake up Evgeni. He will know what to do.”

He glared at the man. He was their Emperor, how could he talk to him like that? Only the Quhjani had the right to address him so freely.

Or, as it seemed, his husband’s Guards, who were turning into Quhjani themselves under his influence. He smiled at the thought. 

He turned towards Lesnev. He looked like shit. What had he done? “Grisha, you had better get well. No one will forgive me if anything happens to you. Vasya, especially.” He sighed. 

What had Mark said about their stories? He hadn’t shared them with Grisha, and he didn’t know if Vasya had…. What if he shared some of them? The worst thing he could do, would be to wake up the tenor, (Evgeni, did Carel say?), and the youth that everyone translated for. What was his story? 

“Vasya was such a cute child when he was little,” he started. “He was so blond, his hair was almost white, and the first time I met him, he was with his dog, a black, long-haired giant that was as big as a sheep. Honestly, it was this massive black dog next to this tiny blond child that could only walk that much, and when he fell asleep on Mark’s lap with the dog guarding him, I was so envious. My Mother didn’t allow dogs in the Palace. ‘They belong to the kennels’, she would say. I spent so much time with Vasya and Mark that summer because of Vasya’s dog. That beast was such a docile and sweet dog and even at two, Vasya could handle him so well.”

He suddenly smiled. “Now that I think of it, Vasya was such a quiet and well-behaved child. Even at two. Sashenka, on the other hand.” He shook his head. “That child could cry for hours. I am not lying. Once he started, he would not stop. If Sasha were my brother, I would have thrown him out of a window. He was so noisy. I couldn’t understand it – how could Vasya be so patient with that thing? That wasn’t a child, Grisha; that was a crying machine.” He really was, and only Vasya could make that thing stop crying.

“But Vasya was always so patient with him. Always making sure he was entertained and happy so that he wouldn’t start crying, and always did everything he could in order to make him stop crying once he started. Once, he staged a whole fight between custard cakes just to make him shut up. Ah, the cakes!” He laughed. 

“He was the one who kept us fed in our walks, you know. You’d expect Mark to do it, since he was older, but no. It was Vasya, ever since he was really little. First, he shared his food,” or rather, made his minder share it, “and when he was older,” and Mark and he had declared themselves the designated minders of the younger boys, “he brought us things. He always brought me my favourite sweet cheese pancakes, and savoury buns for Mark.” And custard cakes for Sasha, biscuits for Ekaterina, meat pies for Grisha… How many different things could that boy stuff in his pockets? 

“And, when Vasya was really little, our favourite game was trying to catch him so we could tickle him, because he was so little and cute and when he laughed…” He sighed. “Everything was well when Vasya laughed.”

“Still is,” Grisha muttered. 

“Grisha?” He looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.” 

He reached for a towel, moaning a little, and Nikolaj grabbed it and started wiping the sweat off is forehead. “It is the truth. I should wake up Evgeni.”

“No. Some tea. Can you…?”

He ran to the door and opened it. All the Guards turned towards him. “Tea for Grisha. Please.” He turned around, finding Grisha trying to get up, so he ran back and helped him. 

“I didn’t mean…” 

“No.” Grisha cut him off. “If today is like yesterday, I will be awake for an hour, and then be really feverish and asleep for the next ten. You want to talk work; this is your chance.”

Nikolaj stared at him. No wonder his men admired him, if he wouldn’t let even sickness stop him. “Your plan. Do you think it will succeed?”

He shrugged and grimaced in pain. “Maybe. Better try it than have war.”

“Yes, I see that now.” He still thought it was underhanded, but maybe it was a bit like his helping Augie? A bit like that? “Who can do it?”

Grisha closed his eyes. “I need to know who is here and think of their skills.” He shook his head. “Sorry, can’t tell you.” He snorted. “I’m not well enough for that.”

“Who can?”

“Vasya.”

He sighed deeply. Had he expected to hear something different? “Then I will ask Vasya to form a team.”

“Vasya will not lead it,” Grisha told him emphatically, opening his eyes and staring at him fiercely. “I don’t want him going there.”

“Because he can’t do it?” he asked curiously.

“Yes, he can,” Grisha snorted. “I want him safe,” he said softly. 

“But you would have led it,” Nikolaj pointed out.

“That’s different.” 

What a strange thing to say. 

Grisha shivered. Nikolaj pulled the blanket up and covered him, letting Grisha wrap himself in it. “Vasya stays out,” he repeated. 

“I give you my word. He will only form the team.”

“Thank you.”

“And… you must have thought how to do it.”

“Yes.”

“Who else knows? Or do I leave the planning to Vasya too?”

Grisha smiled. He looked better when he did that. “Carel knows. Valery too.”

“Valery?”

“The Guard I sent to Vasya.”

He smiled. So, Vasya would know it too. Even apart, they shared everything. 

The door opened. Carel and Adrian came in, each with a mug in their hands. 

“Captain,” Adrian whispered as he hurried and brought him his tea. 

“Thank you, Adrian.”

“They’ll get you some broth in a few moments,” Adrian smiled. 

“Did you really train all the men of my personal Guard?”

Grisha nodded as he took a sip. 

“Why didn’t I know?”

“Because,” Grisha snorted, “You live up there, and we live down here. You don’t even look down here, let alone know what is happening here.”

“I can’t be expected to know everything.”

“You should. Know as much as possible. Or let your husband do it for you. He looks and listens to us down here.”

“You’re a count now, Lesnev,” he grinned. “You’re not down there anymore.” 

Grisha smiled at him. “I’m more down here than I am up there, but, truly, Sire? I am beyond all that.”

Nikolaj stared at him, feeling scared. What did that mean? 

“Sir?” Evgeni asked him worriedly. When had he woken up? 

“The struggle, everything is pointless. When you desire, you don’t live. When you move beyond… you do.”

Nikolaj turned to look at Carel and Evgeni, and was glad that they too seemed confused. This made as little sense for them as it did for him.

“Ask Vasya, he’ll explain it better. He’s clever like that.”

Nikolaj smiled. “You’re also clever like that.”

“Not like Vasya.”

“Vasya is clever too,” he agreed. 

Grisha smiled, reminding him of the very first time he had met him, when Vasya had introduced Grisha to Mark and him. He had smiled the same way then, a little shyly, but mostly happily and amazed, and Nikolaj had been surprised to see Vasya smile in the same way. “As soon as you can travel, you will go home,” Nikolaj told him. “Vasya must be missing you.”

“Yes, but he gets it.” He smiled again.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

Despite Carel and Adrian glaring at him, Grisha nodded. 

“Fredrik’s army,” he started.

“Where is it?” Grisha smiled. 

Of course, he knew of it already, he realised. “Exactly. Why are they not moving?”

Grisha stared at him for a few moments. “They wait for you to break when Francis kills your husband,” he finally said, sounding exhausted. “They expect you to go back to Ivanhof, and with the Consort dead, morale will be low among the men. Even if you don’t go back for the funeral, you will be grief-stricken and make mistakes.” Grisha looked at him seriously. “He listens to us down here, Sire. The men respect you, but they love him.” 

How well he knew that already. He sighed. “And I have wasted three days already. No, four. You would have been at Ustvela by now if I weren’t stupid.”

“You said it,” Grisha told him simply. 

He groaned. It would take nine days for his messenger to reach Vasya, if he killed all the horses he used, and another nine for Vasya to come here (assuming he was well enough to travel – he hoped he was), a few days to put together a team, and another five before they were at Ustvela. How stupid had he been? Bitoulin was right; anger made him blind and deaf. And stupid. 

“Sir? I brought you chicken soup,” Kuzma said as he opened the door. 

“It’s sacred soup, made from the roosters the Quhjani sacrificed yesterday,” Major Andreyef grinned. 

“Thank you,” Grisha smiled tiredly. “Tell them I am grateful.”

If their own Noble and Wise Mother were sick, they wouldn’t take such good care of her. Sacred soup! Nikolaj stood up. “I should be going and let you rest.” He turned towards Kuzma and Andreyef. “You are going to be unwell all day today?”

They both nodded. 

The day before, they were protesting. This day, they were punishing him. He turned back to face Grisha. “If you are right, if they are waiting for me to break, they will let me advance without problems. While your team frees Anton, I will have two of the regiments stationed at Quhjan deployed at the borders, so that they know that I am willing to open a second front for him. Meanwhile, Vasya will keep Elik safe for the time it takes for your team to free Anton and put him on the throne. We know he will.” He looked at Grisha. “We have to start moving.”

Grisha stared at him. “Why can’t you think strategy outside the battlefield?” he whispered. “You are right. Andreyef? Did you hear His Majesty?” He smirked. “They might even let the army go all the way to the Capital, expecting that their victory is greater when His Majesty turns back right outside their gates.”

“So, you want us to be well?”

Nikolaj raised an eyebrow. These were not his men. These were Grisha’s. All of them. If they mutinied, losing Mark and his darling would be the least of his problems. He could lose his crown. He could lose his head. How could he not have seen that? 

Grisha nodded. 

Nikolaj smiled. “Thank you. We will pray to Luck, sacrifice more roosters for your sacred soup, and then we will march. I will leave some of your men here for you.” 

“Thank you.”

“I am looking forward to seeing you at court, Your Excellency. With His Excellency.”

“We are very boring at dinners, Sire. You don’t want us at court, but we will be there.”

Nikolaj grinned. “One more thing.”

“Sire,” everyone shouted at him. “Let him rest.”

But who would tell him why he couldn’t think strategy outside the battlefield? 

&*&*

Evgeni looked at the Major. Within minutes after His Majesty’s departure, he’d fallen asleep. “Look after him, Michal,” he said as he took Carel by the arm and led him outside. 

The Major’s men surrounded them. “Is he well?”

Evgeni nodded. “He’s sleeping. I don’t understand,” he told them. “His Majesty. He knew the Captain since he was little. How could he do this to the husband of his friend?” He looked at them. “Do you think he knew Grisha too? When he was little?”

Longin shrugged. The others looked unsure. 

“He’s a monster,” he hissed. “And yes, I am judging him.”

Carel nodded. 

“The Captain won’t like that,” Longin said. 

“Your Captain or mine?”

“Both.”

“I don’t care.” Evgeni looked towards the closed door. “When he is well, I will ask him.”

“And if you don’t, I will,” Carel said. “That man is a monster.”

“The Captain?”

“His Majesty,” Carel growled. “That should be his code name from now on,” he told Evgeni. 

“Yes, I agree.”

Longin shook his head. “I want nothing to do with this. He is still My Lord.”

“But you know we are right.”

“Well…” He looked uncomfortable.

“You are right,” Evgeni told him. “He is our Lord.” He clasped Carel’s arm. “I want some tea.”

Carel followed him.

“Why are they so loyal to this Monster?” Evgeni whispered as soon as they were well on their way to the hospital kitchens. 

“Perhaps he’s not all bad?” Carel asked. “The Young Lord is madly in love with him. He must have some good qualities.”

“Perhaps.” Evgeni sighed. He suddenly had a thought. “Perhaps he’s like those monsters in romances. Monster in the evening, and handsome prince by day.”

“And Our Young Lord was his prisoner,” Carel laughed for a second, before his expression darkened. “He was.”

“What?”

“His prisoner. Who fell in love with him. Just like in romances.”

Evgeni hit him. 

“What?” He rubbed his arm, grimacing as if Evgeni had hit him hard. He hadn’t. 

“That was The Story two years ago. Or more. There was a time when the only thing you would hear in the capital was how His Majesty had fallen in love with his lovely war-caught-bride, and how his love was returned. Telling people details of their wonderful romance that made people swoon was the easiest way to get into someone’s bed. Or so Maxim had told me.” He had been too shy to do that, but how he used to admire Maxim even back then for being so... non-Bosilik in his behaviour. Sleeping with free people before marriage! Who did that? Or, at least that was what he used to think, until he did it himself. 

“Oh, yes, you are right.” Carel grinned. “That time seems so far away now, doesn’t it? Remember when we were first chosen for the Choir? I honestly thought it was a Choir.”

Evgeni grinned. “I knew it wasn’t, but how I had wish it were!”

Carel nodded, smiling. 

If those two years seemed so far away... “Do you think when we are older like Longin, or even the Major, we will be able to be loyal to Monsters, like they are?”

“I think we need to ask him why. When we can.”

They nodded. They would do it. 

&*&*

Stepan rolled over and looked around him. Wooden walls, wooden ceilings, all made of logs. Only the floor was made of wooden planks. The house was unlike to what he had grown up, but after seeing so many places, and having slept in so many different rooms, he didn’t care much about how the space around him looked. 

“Stepan?” Roman mumbled as he reached for him and hugged him.

“I’m looking at your house.”

“And what do you think?”

Stepan laughed. “As long as you’re there, I could live anywhere.” He was not sure how Mama would take it, but he would help her cope with the change. “What do we do today? Stay in bed until it is time to go back to Ivanhof?”

Roman studied him. “That sounds good to me.”

Stepan grinned. Who really cared what their house looked like? He only cared that Roman was there! “They will show me my workshop today,” he said.

“My Imperial Blacksmith,” Roman grinned before kissing him.

Him, he really was an Imperial Blacksmith! And he was at Ivanhof! That was BIG! And he had Roman, kissing him!

And this time, he didn’t need to have a painter painting it for people to believe him. His family would see the Capital with their own eyes soon! He couldn’t wait to go around with Mama and Roman and Vanya and Sana and see everything. 

&*&*

Elik put down the last of the reports. After the Council meetings and going over the reports, he really wanted a short break. “I would like some tea, Dima. Could you…”

Dima ran out of the room before he had even finished his sentence. 

Mark grinned. “He’s fast. And then, lunch?”

“Indeed. And tea with the Ladies and then,” he smiled, “private time!” Oh, he had so many plans for that. Or… just one!

Mark raised an eyebrow. A knock on the door stopped him from asking what he wanted to ask. 

As if he would tell Mark! No, he wouldn’t tell him what he would do in his private time, but he was certain that Nikolaj would – eventually! Oh, just the thought of what he wanted to do made him feel so reckless!

“Enter.”

“His Excellency, Count Lesnev requests an audience.”

“Yes, of course.”

Moments later, Vasya walked in with a box in his hands. 

“What is that, Your Excellency?”

“This, Your Majesty, is an urgent dispatch from Her Excellency, Lady Irina. I had asked her to look at your house for anything that could prove that you are who you are, a descendant of Great Dukes, and she graciously agreed.”

“And?” Mark asked impatiently.

“She sent these, and wrote that you would know more about them.” He put it on the desk and started opening it, putting her unfolded letter face down on the desk.

“That’s quite the long letter,” Elik grinned.

Vasya blushed. “She writes a lot.” He made to put it in his pocket, but Mark was quicker. 

“Hey, give it back,” Vasya shouted, and looked between Mark and the box, clearly torn as to what to do next.

“No, Your Excellency. As your superior, I have a right to check it.”

“It is private,” Vasya continued in the same annoyed tone.

“And I say…” Mark ran out of the room, his secretary following him. 

Elik laughed. “You have a very annoying big brother, brother,” Elik told him. 

“You don’t know half of it,” Vasya sighed, chuckling as he continued taking the objects out. “She wrote that she sent you your toy sword.”

“Oh, I hadn’t seen that in years.” He unwrapped it and lifted it. “It is big for a toy sword, isn’t it?” He touched the silver decoration on the hilt. 

“We had a similar sword at home,” Vasya smiled. “It had an inscription on the blade. Do you remember anything about it?”

“It’s old…” Elik took it out of the sheath. “It looks in such a bad condition.”

“The Treasury has an Armoury section, where weapons from past generations are kept. We can see if there is something similar?”

“Yes. Do you think they can clean it?” There was something sad about old swords. He sheathed it and gave it to Vasya. 

“Do you remember anything about it?”

“It was too big for me when I was little, and too small when I was big.” Elik smiled at him. “It’s old? We’ve always had it.”

“Didn’t any of your parents ever tell you anything about it?”

“Only that it was an Old Thing, and it was my birth-right to hold it, and no one else’s.”

“I see. And…” Vasya unwrapped the next item Irina had sent. “Oh, that’s really ancient.”

“Excuse me?” He looked at the golden, open neck-ring ending in two animal heads. “It’s so ugly,” he laughed. “You can’t even tell what these heads represent. Are they wolves? Lions? Something fantastical?”

“I will ask at the Treasury.”

“Yes, please. And… a cup! I remember that one. It’s part of a set! Father used to say it was wasted in our family, because none of drinks. But we still kept it because it was passed down from generation to generation.”

Vasya looked at him exasperated. “You have no stories about the old objects in your family? You have stories about everything. Even about dead people that don’t stay dead.”

“Why, do you have…” He realized what he was about to say and stopped himself. “Sorry…”

“Apology accepted, but to answer your question, yes. I knew the story behind every portrait on the walls, every sword ever held by one of my forebears, every jewel in my mother’s case.”

“Hm…. In my family, these are all ‘Old Things’. The things that we always had, and proved that we were of …” He gasped. “The Line of Malk the Ever Fierce.” He stared at Vasya, shocked. “Do you think there might be something on them that has a crest or a symbol or something that can prove that we are Great Dukes?”

Vasya looked at the objects. “I will ask at the Treasury. They know everything about the old objects in the Imperial Collection, so perhaps they can recognize these too. And, I know people who are interested in history of weapons and of jewellery. With your permission, I would like to send them drawings of the sword and the neck-ring.” He started wrapping everything again. “If they are as old as Malk the Ever Fierce, perhaps that might be proof enough.”

“Yes, thank you.” He sighed. “Do you think that we may be Great Dukes? And the other Elders are nobles? We always thought we have no nobles at Quhjan and that we are all equal, just some of us had more responsibilities than the others.”

“I think so.”

“And how do we make the announcement at Court?”

“Let us find something that demonstrates your nobility first, and then we will think about it.”

“Thank you. As to the other matter…”

“I will have finished my assessment and forming of the teams later in the day. All of Grisha’s men know that they should be ready to leave at a moment’s notice, so I am hoping to…”

“You want to go with them,” Elik told him, seeing his expression of longing.

“I want to, but I know I can’t. My duty is here.”

Elik nodded. He was selfishly glad that Vasya was not going. “Thank you for staying. And how will you make sure that your team won’t interfere with Grisha’s?”

“I have already sent someone to find out if Grisha’s team has left. He will meet our team and either go ahead or come back. It will be quicker than waiting for a messenger from there.”

“Indeed. The postal service is slow. We need to breed faster horses. It is somewhere on my list of things to do, but it is not a priority.”

Vasya smiled. 

“And then, we wait,” Elik sighed.

“That is all we can do, until we hear that Anton is on the throne.”

“What happens if the team fails?”

Vasya shrugged. “Let us wait until that happens.”

Of course. If the team failed, then Grisha would have failed too. How could he have been so insensitive? “Sorry for asking.”

“No, it is a logical and valid concern, but I have faith in them. They will not fail you.”

Elik nodded. “I have faith in them too.”

“Then, with your permission, I would like to continue my work. My apologies, Sire, I will not be able to attend any court functions today.”

“Of course.” He’d arrange for someone to send Vasya lunch then. And dinner. 

Vasya picked up the box again and started walking out. 

“Vasya? If you were busy, why did you stop your work to bring me these?”

“Because, I really needed to take a walk and think of something different. But from tomorrow, I will try what Mark does. Thinking with cats. Or dogs, as the case may be. Oh, Sire, thank you so much for the dogs!”

“You are welcome. Do you want more?”

“No, four are enough for our home, but thank you.” He bowed and left him.

So, he wasn’t the only one who needed breaks from work! How nice it was to know that. 

&*&*

At the knock on the door, Mark looked up from his draft. “Enter.”

His secretary came in, grinning. “The copies you requested, Sir.”

“Thank you.”

“If I may say this, Sir, it was an enjoyable read. A bit rough, though,” he grinned again. 

Mark nodded, chuckling. “I agree. Please, take the original where it belongs. And, I don’t need to say again that this is between us and the copyists.”

“Of course, Sir.”

The moment the door closed, Mark heard him laugh loudly. He couldn’t blame him. Young ladies were frightening! He put the copies aside and started writing the letter proper. 

_The Palace of Debauchery and Utter Filth, 22nd of Fire Month,_

_Dear Sasha,_

_How are you? I hope you are well; I really do!_

_It is that time of the year again, and this time, I apologize for making you read this letter one way or another. I do hope you prefer to read it yourself in my messenger’s presence, rather than have my messenger read it out loud to you._

_I know you will be surprised that my summer letter is sent now – I was dealing with official business. By now, even you will have known that His Majesty is fighting a war against Oerestand and His Majesty (the Consort) is well and back at Ivanhof. These kept me busy in the last two months, and I was not able to write to you until now._

_First, the usual: Sasha, aren’t you tired of being Up North? Please, write to His Majesty that you regret writing that Unmentionable, and ask him to allow you to return to Court. He will grant your request._

_We all miss you, Sasha. Please, come home._

_Secondly, new things: We almost lost Vasya ten days ago. He was hit by a bullet protecting His Majesty (the Consort), and he was So Very Lucky. That said, we have reasons to believe that someone is targeting His Majesty (the Consort), and that means that Vasya’s life will also be in danger until that situation is resolved. Grisha is trying to resolve it by going on what is a mission with very slim chances of success._

_Sasha, your brother’s life is in danger, and we don’t know if Grisha will be back, either. Do you really want to stay Up North even now?_

_I am being utterly honest, Sasha. I saw Vasya getting hit and I still have nightmares. When I think that, if Luck is not with us, we will lose them both by the end of the year, everything in me freezes and stops. Sasha, I really don’t know if Grisha will be back, but Vasya is still here, with us. Come back for him, please, and if Luck is with us, we will all see the new year together. If Luck is not, at least you will have made peace with Vasya (if you move fast – things are not good)._

_I know you think they betrayed your common ideals and everything you two believed in, but that is not the truth. I will not go over what happened in the past – although you do need to talk to either Vasya or Grisha or both of them about it, since that is not my story alone to tell – but I will send you something to read. A story written and illustrated by two young Ladies, who are as high-minded as you were at their age, and just as pure. I hope that you will see past the fantastical elements the reflection of your brother and your brother-in-law, and realise that they have not changed at all in all these years. Not in their behaviour, nor in their ideals._

_So, again, the usual: Sasha, please, come home to us._

_And know this: If we lose them both by the end of the year, I will not bother you again. I will not share my grief with someone who refused to accept them._

_As long as they live, I remain your dear cousin who misses you so much and wishes the best for you,_

_Mark (as always, writing on behalf of Grisha and Ekaterina)_

He put the copy of the story that Lady Irina and her Official Friend after his letter. How he hoped that the idiot would finally come to his senses and stop being such an idiot! Relatives could disagree over ideals and still be family. Why couldn’t the idiot see that? 

A knock stopped him from thinking more about Sasha the Idiot. “His Excellency, Count Lesnev requests an audience,” his secretary told him. 

“Let him in. And have this sent Urgent,” he said handing him the letter while trying to look serious, but couldn’t. The moment he dismissed everyone but Vasya and the door closed, he started laughing. 

Vasya glared at him. “That was mean,” he finally protested.

“Erm… maybe? Sit, Vasya. I’m sorry,” he told him, “but you got so red that I knew there had to be something good in that letter. And there was.” He wheezed. “I have so many questions, but I don’t know where to start.”

“I didn’t encourage her to write such things, if that is what you are asking,” Vasya told him. “She sent a couple of drawings with her previous letter, I couldn’t tell her that they made me feel awkward, and she must have thought I approved. I told you, she is a Very Frightening Young Lady, and she is surrounding herself with like-minded Young Ladies.”

“Her Official Friend and Lady Olga,” Mark suddenly understood.

“Yes. They are all most frightening. But I am hardly in a position to lecture them, am I? Not when I was already kissing Grisha at their age.”

How well he remembered that! “You were able to lecture Anton, though,” Mark smirked.

“Anton is a Crown Prince. If anything had happened to him at a party, we would have caused an Incident! It’s completely different. In any case, I did not come to see you for this.”

“Why then?”

Vasya stared at him. “I wanted to ask if you had read it,” he said after a moment. 

Mark shivered. Vasya was lying to him. “I did,” he said. “I thought the title was odd, and the writing could be improved, but the concept and the drawings were good.” All of the drawings. 

The one of Vasya sleeping with two dogs beside him, one kitten on his head and one under his chin was so very cute, even though it wasn’t accurate. The one of Grisha in a jewellery shop the likes of which he had never seen before, had made him wonder if the background had been drawn from memory. The drawing of Vasya kneading dough was truly lifelike, as if Lady Irina had seen him do this before, but the best was the one where they were looking at each other over a plate with a piece of half-eaten pie between them. She had truly captured how they ignored everything when they looked at each other. 

“I see. I didn’t. But I thought Grisha would enjoy it.” He stood up. “So, thank you for returning it to me.” 

“Grisha doesn’t read romances.”

“True, but he likes anything that is absurd, and there is nothing more absurd than Her Excellency and Her Official Friend writing a romance about us.” He nodded at him. “Also, I apologize. I still have work to do, so I will not be able to attend either lunch or dinner. I have already apologized to His Majesty, so you won’t have to excuse me.”

“Vasya?”

“Yes?”

“You are not thinking of joining them, are you?”

“I wish, but no. My place is here.”

Mark studied him and he was almost certain that his cousin was telling the truth. “Good. See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you.”

His cousin was lying to him. But why? 

He probably did want to join the team, and was lying to him about knowing where his place was. He might as well have someone follow Vasya just in case he decided to go to Ustvela. 

&*&*

_My Dearest Lady,_

_Since there will be a Feast tonight, I would rather have a few nibbles in my room and not join you for lunch. Please, accept my apologies and start lunch without me. Thank you!_

_E_

He folded the note and gave it to Dima. “Dima, after you deliver this to Lady Ekaterina, can you please ask the Cook to put some bread buns and cheese in a plate for me, and have them sent it up? Thank you.”

The young man looked at Ilya and Mirko, the new pages in-training. “Now, this is what you do when you get a Note,” he said as he ran out of the room the moment he got it. They followed him. 

Elik managed to hold back his laughter until he was alone with Gerasim and Karp. “Dima will teach the pages not to bow to me. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Is it?” Karp asked him. 

“Yes. They are neither children nor young men yet. They are allowed not to. Besides, bowing makes them waste time. Isn’t this more efficient?”

Gerasim chuckled.

“Please, at ease. Take a seat.” He put his hand over the stack of letters on his desk. “I need to reply to at least a couple of these today, and then see the Ladies and inform them about the Court Dress Contest.” And then… private time! 

“I hope the design that wins has lots of lace and lets us appreciate more of their charms.”

“Karp,” Gerasim told him sharply. “What are you talking about? Lace is not as revealing as tulle.”

Shaking his head with amusement as the two discussed which fabrics would be best suited for revealing the Ladies’ charms, Elik opened the first of the letters.

_Hohenberg, 4th of Fire Month,_

_My Dearest Brother,_

_How are you? I am so shaken over my husband’s actions._

_I swear, I had no idea what he was planning. How it pains me to think that publicly we must now be cold to each other, and it scares me that we might become even enemies, should your Husband or mine declare war on each other._

_When I think of the few, carefree days we had at Sorain… Oh, I want to weep and smile at the memory._

_Your dearest Sister,_

_Charlotte_

Hm. This gave him an idea. 

_Ivanhof, 22nd of Fire Month_

_My Dearest Sister,_

_How are you? I just received your letter of the 4th of this month and I too want to cry and smile when I think of our wonderful days at Sorain._

_How I wish for a miracle that would bring us all back, and with such joy in our hearts – if not more._

_I also wish I could write that I am well. Physically, I am fine, but, SISTER! You will never believe what is happening to me! Someone wants to kill me!_

_No, not someone. I will say it! It is King Francis of Ustvela. He thinks that if he kills me, My Most Kind Husband will abandon his war against Oerestand. Can you believe such a thing? Not that he wants to kill me – he already tried assassinating me once, and Lesnev got hurt saving my life – but the reason behind it. Isn’t that extraordinary and unbelievable? My Most Brave and War-loving Husband fought seven campaigns before he met me, and he is a warrior at heart. If anything happened to me, he’d fight on because that’s what he does._

_So, Francis’ reason is extraordinary, unbelievable, AND stupid._

He grinned. If Leopold knew of Francis’ plan, after this letter, he’d know that they’d been discovered. Maybe he could force Francis to stop, and they would both know that killing him would not bring them any benefits. And If Leopold had no idea about what Francis had been doing, well, who knew what might happen!

“Sire?”

“Francis thinks he is being sneaky. Well, he will not get away with it. Not if I have my way.”

_I am at home now and I am still shaken over this, and so worried that he will try again. Oh, Sister, if anything happens to me, you will know the truth of the matter!_

_Your devoted Brother,_

_Elik_

He picked up the next letter. It was from Philippa. She would know the truth too. Everyone in the Network of Second Best would know. Sneaky Francis would not be sneaky after they all heard from him! 

His private time could wait until the next day. Writing to his Royal Sisters and Brothers was more important!

He picked up another note.

_Dearest Lady,_

_Work will keep me busy until dinner. Can you please host tea for the Ladies?_

_Also, what happened to my Maids-of-Honour?_

_E_

&*&*

“So….” Maxim said the moment they had all sat down for lunch at the Mess Hall. 

Sila glared at him. “Don’t.”

With Sila on the other side of the table, Maxim felt confident that no one would shut him up. “I was just wondering,” he said as innocently as possible, “Filon, Artyom, out of ten, how would you rate His Grace? And Her Grace?”

Sila groaned more loudly than everyone. 

“What? Everyone knows by now!”

Filon and Artyom stared at them miserably. 

Everyone nodded. “Sorry, brothers, we do know. Yesterday?” Nikon grinned. “These were the stupidest excuses I have ever heard in my life.”

Taras nodded next to him. 

“Brothers, just accept it,” Roman told them pleasantly. “We all know.”

“And we all want to know, how do you rate them?” Maxim grinned. 

“That’s not what we want to know,” Peter the Tall said. 

“Really? What do you want to know?” Filon asked them as the servants started bringing in the soup course.

“Not cold soup again,” Jan sighed. 

“Ah, the Captain’s favourite,” Valery grinned. “Again.”

Maxim nodded. It was getting a bit boring. 

“Maybe we can tell the cook to make some just for him from now on? I’ve had enough of it,” Leonid muttered. “Who’s in favour of this?”

Most of them raised their hands, making Maxim grin. “What did you want to ask, Peter?”

“Is the Chancellor good to you? He does have a reputation of…” He looked at them with concern. “He’s a big pervert, and everyone knows that too.”

Filon and Artyom whispered among themselves. “He’s adventurous, I would say,” Artyom finally responded, smiling happily. 

“Very,” Filon nodded. He too looked happy. “And he stops when we say ‘no’.”

Peter the Tall nodded, satisfied. 

“And Her Grace?” Maxim couldn’t help asking. 

“She’s fun!” Artyom replied immediately. 

“And she’s loud!” Filon nodded enthusiastically. “It is nice to know that what you do is pleasant to your partner.”

“That’s always good,” Valery agreed. “Did you try the soup? It’s not bad today.” 

Maxim frowned. "But, how do you rate them?"

&*&*

He left the best letter for last. Once he answered that, he would go for dinner. 

_Sorain, 3rd of Fire Month,_

_My Dearest Elik,_

_How are you? I am well and my dear Marquis is sending his regards._

_We are still together, Brother! I am so excited! I had never thought I would experience such happiness!_

_I am sending you several books that I hope that you and His Majesty will enjoy. And maybe other members of your court?_

_You will be amused to know that, even though we at Valentin have such a long tradition in this genre, some of the more exciting books published here are actually written by a Bosilik! He writes under a pseudonym and…._

_As you will see, I have sent you one book from each of the authors I like myself or they have been recommended to me. Elik, let’s play a game! Can you figure out which one of the books I sent you was written by the Bosilik author?_

_I hope this will keep you pleasantly occupied while Your Husband is at the front. And maybe give you ideas how to welcome him back?_

_Your ever-honest brother,_

_Alexandre_

Elik gasped. 

“What is it, Sire?” Karp asked him immediately. 

“His Highness. He sent me books for His Majesty! Where are they?”

Gerasim grinned and pointed at the box by his feet that he’d been kicking for more than an hour. 

“Ah.” He reached down, picked it up and opened it, glad to see that he hadn’t damaged its contents. 

Karp and Gerasim abandoned their card game and came to look at the books over his shoulder as he put them on the desk. 

No wonder people said one couldn’t judge a book by its cover, Elik thought as he looked at the ten books on his desk with the plain or marbled covers. 

“May I?” Gerasim asked him.

He nodded. 

He took a book in random and opened it. He gasped and closed it immediately. Then he opened it again and showed it to Karp. 

He also gasped. “Your Majesty, these are Forbidden Books!”

“His Majesty made them legal again.”

“Really? We can read them? May we?” They looked as happy as if someone had given them an extra week of vacation. 

He grinned and gave them a nod. 

Excited, they ran back to the couch, sat next to each other and started reading, Gerasim holding the book and Karp with one finger on the page, ready to turn it. 

What was everyone so eager to read formerly forbidden books? Curious, he took one and opened it himself. The title was ‘Amalie, or the Perils of Mismatched Marriages’. On the opposite page was a drawing. A pretty, elegant, young lady was sitting at her drawing room, sipping her coffee, all calm and collected. A middle-aged man in the ugliest suit he had ever seen was at the door, looking angry. They looked a mismatched couple, indeed, but that didn’t seem very interesting… He suddenly noticed the pair of feet from under the curtain. Then he saw that one of her feet was bare! Ah! 

Maybe he could read a little before replying to Alexandre. 

No, no, first he would tell him all about Francis’ perfidy, and then he would read. That would be better! 

&*&*

Vasily looked at Grisha’s men. “Is everything clear?”

They all nodded. 

“Remember where the safehouses are at Krzydzov? And the emergency contacts?”

“Yes, Sir,” Marin told him.

“Good. This is for peace. Not just His Majesty’s life. And,” he smiled. “It’s for the Captain.”

“We understand, Sir,” Konon told him. 

“Thank you. And… May I also ask something of you?”

They stood in attention and focused on him.

“The true objective is not to put Anton on the throne, but to stop Francis. And if Grisha’s team fails, or if you do, then Francis will force His Majesty to go into war in the next months. What I want you to do is even worse than what Grisha asks of you, but I will ask it, because I think that is what Grisha really wants.” 

Grisha would not have made a plan with such an obvious flaw as leaving Francis alive if his mission to put Anton on the throne failed. He was certain of that. Grisha probably didn’t want to alert anyone as to his true reasons behind leading the team himself. 

“What is it?” Venedikt asked him.

“If Grisha’s team has left for Ustvela, I want you to wait nearby. If, as Valery estimated, he was at His Majesty’s camp by the 19th, then by now he will be already at Ustvela, and by the time you are there, his team will be on the way back, if they have succeeded. I want you to wait at Ystrina for a few days, until the truth of the matter is known to you. Grisha will have arranged that with one of our contacts at Ustvela. If his team has succeeded, then all is good, and you can come home.” 

He took a deep breath. “I am certain that Grisha wants to lead the team himself so he can kill Francis, if everything else fails. If both his team and he have failed, then I want you to go to Krzydzov and kill Francis.”

They continued listening. 

“If His Majesty has not agreed to his plan, and we need to over-ride the Chain of Command,” he said, smiling at Nika, “then you will go to Ustvela, according to Grisha’s plan. If you succeed, then let Anton deal with his Father as whatever manner he thinks appropriate. But if you fail, I want whoever of you is still able, to stay and kill Francis. As long as he rules, he will not stop.” 

He took another deep breath. “If I could, I would join you, but right now, both His Majesty and the Chancellor expect me to do just that, and I wouldn’t put it past them to have me watched and have me dragged back here if I do come with you. Which would only mean delaying the mission!” He glared at the wall, towards the direction of Mark’s office. “Whore’s lice-infected pubic hair,” he cursed in one of the dialects of the Bright Empire as Grisha had taught him. In Bosilk, it would be translated as ‘annoying idiot’ but it sounded better in the original. 

A few of them chuckled and he grinned. “Needless to say,” he continued, “this last part is neither authorized or on the record. If it comes to that, we will be on our own.”

“And if we all fail?” Semyon asked him seriously. 

“Then I will kill that rotten lizard’s egg myself,” he said, using the exact translation of another Bright Empire curse. “These are our last options, Gentlemen. Let us focus on our first one, and do our best to make that happen.” He smiled. “I know you can do it. You’ve survived Grisha’s trip, after all. Going to Ustvela should be easy.”

He pushed the chest in front of him towards them. “And, remember, more castles were taken by bribery than by force. Use all your skills, Gentlemen, not just your skills in climbing walls or blowing things up.” 

“Yes, Sir!” They saluted him. 

“May Luck be with you,” he said as he saluted them back. 

How he wished he could join them! 

How well he understood His Majesty! He hated having to sit and wait!

&*&*

This time, when he returned to the hospital, the men did not ignore him. Instead, several of them shouted that they wanted stay behind with Grisha, and gave him petitions to allow it. 

He took them all, gave them to Count Njedzic and went to see Grisha. 

Carel glared at him the moment he opened the door. “What are you doing here again?” 

He took in the scene. Grisha was sitting up, supported by Evgeni and Kliment, while Carel was holding his mug and the dark-haired youth was sitting on the other bed, watching them intently. 

“I came to see Grisha, of course.” He turned towards him. “We will be moving soon, but I wanted to say I’m sorry and…”

Grisha looked at him tiredly. “I am not up to working right now. Apologies, Sire.”

“No, no work talk.” He sat down. “As I told you, I will be leaving some of the men for you, as well as some of the Quhjani. They insisted on making your sacred soup themselves, since no Bosilik can do it right, apparently,” he grinned.

Grisha smiled, looking amused. 

“Well, maybe there will be a little work talk. I was made aware that your merit is such that you deserve to be promoted ahead of your review. So,” he gestured and Count Njedzic handed Evgeni a folder, “I hope you will accept this.”

“Thank you, but no.”

Nikolaj stared at him. “Don’t tell me, you refuse to be promoted before Vasya.”

Grisha nodded with a grin. 

“You deserve this.”

“I will accept it when Vasya deserves it as well.”

But most of what Vasya did was secret. He would only deserve a new promotion when it was time for his next review. Unless he rewarded him for saving Elik’s life? No, he couldn’t even do that – officially ‘A Guard’ had been hit, not Vasya. Sighing, he sat down on the chair. “Grisha, I am trying to apologize. What I did… saying sorry is not enough. If you don’t accept a promotion, then what can I do to show you that I am sorry?”

Grisha closed his eyes. 

They all watched as he stayed like that for a few minutes.

“Perhaps he’s fallen asleep,” Evgeni whispered. “You should go, Sire.”

“I am thinking,” Grisha told them. He opened his eyes slowly. “I do not need anything else. You said you are sorry, I forgave you. End of story.”

“There must be something I can do for you.” 

“Then…” He closed his eyes again for a few moments. “Give immunity to Vasya and his team.”

“Why?”

“Because, when he sends that team to Ustvela, he will tell them to kill Francis.”

Nikolaj froze. What? He was planning regicide? Not just a coup d’etat? He felt himself getting angry, and forced himself to calm down, taking one deep breath after the other.

“We need to stop Francis anyway we can, Sire. If the coup fails, then killing him is the only option.”

He stared at Grisha. This felt even more wrong than putting Anton on the throne. “I would rather allow Sasha back from the North. This is…”

Grisha looked at him miserably. “Immoral and unethical. Even for us. But Francis is cheating, Sire, and Vasya hates cheaters.”

“You would have done the same, wouldn’t you?” he suddenly realized. “Taken that team in, and if they failed, you’d kill Francis.”

Grisha stared at him. Fuck, that was a ‘yes’, wasn’t it? 

“To save Elik’s life.”

“And peace between our countries,” he told him, blinking tiredly. 

Of course. Francis would not leave Anton alive after a Bosilik attempt to free him. “But with both Anton and Francis dead, and two claimants for the throne, the Ustvelans will be busy with their own affairs to bother us,” he said slowly. And no one would care about Francis’ plan any more. 

“And when you returned, no one at Bosilke would blame you,” he continued. “You’d be a hero for us. If I punished you, as I would have to, because you'd be a murderer, I would become a villain in my country. If I didn’t punish you, I would get censured by other countries, or had sanctions imposed on our land for harboring a killer. Fuck!” Whoever returned from this mission, would be a problem. 

“Finally, you get it,” Grisha exclaimed as if he were a very slow student. “That is why, that is our very last option.” 

What would Elik do? Elik would look down there, rather than up here. Elik would put his country before his imperial dignity. “Better having a hero at Bosilke than happy Royal Brothers abroad,” he realised. “If it comes to that, I will give them immunity. And I will write a decree allowing Sasha back. If we are to become isolated and shunned by other countries, we might as well have someone write dirty filth to help us pass the time.” He laughed. “Do you know if he still writes things like that?”

“Sorry, no idea.”

Damn, it would be nice if Sasha still wrote delicious filth. Maybe he could ask Sasha very nicely to write something for him when he was back?

He stood up. “It seems that we will leave tomorrow morning, after all. I have to offer more incense to Luck. That team cannot fail. We need Anton on the throne!”

Grisha nodded. “Yes, you really get it.”

“I do. Get some rest. I will visit you tomorrow morning before I leave.”

“Sire,” the Guards shouted.

“I won’t talk work, I promise.”

Grisha snorted, while the others just looked at him with disbelief. 

“Till tomorrow, Gentlemen. Grisha.”

He made it to the door. “One more thing,” he said, turning towards them and seeing Grisha trying to lie down again with Evgeni’s help. 

Carel stood up, pushed him out and closed the door to his face.

He stared at it dumbfounded for a moment. Then he turned to Count Njedzic. “Have you seen anything fiercer than a Special Guard?” he grinned. If the Guards looked after his darling with half the determination and ferocity they looked after Grisha, his darling would be fine until Francis was either overthrown or dead.


	65. Chapter 65

True to his word, the first place Nikolaj went once everything was ready for their departure, was the hospital.

Prokop, who was on door guard duty that morning, shook his head. “He is sleeping, Sire. Let him rest.”

“Can I just check myself?”

“No, Sire.”

“Fine. Tell him I came to see him, and I wish him well.”

“I will, Sire. May Luck be with you.”

“And with you.” He stopped after taking a few steps away. “Are you sure I can’t just have a peek?”

Prokop shook his head. 

“You will send me daily reports, understood?”

“Yes, Sire,” Prokop grinned. 

He walked out. How he hoped Luck was with them. 

&*&*

Even though he was only Emperor-in-the-place-of-the-Emperor, he decided to continue with the schedule His Husband had: council meeting first, other meetings next, then lunch, then time with the Ladies, and then… private time! He really wanted to be able to have his private time that day!!

At least this council meeting was short. 

“They left already?” Duke Vladimirov asked Vasya when he finished his report about the team he’d sent in case they needed to act independently of Nikolaj. 

“Yes, Sir. Yesterday evening.”

Duke Okdranov looked strangely excited and surprised. 

Elik didn’t understand why Duke Okdranov looked so amazed. Vasya and Count Rasoulin had been moving their traveling troupe for months, quickly and efficiently. Why wouldn’t he be able to move a small team of twenty-five men within hours?

“Wonderful. Any other business, Mr Secretary?”

“The Meeting of the Heads of Security and Intelligence Teams on the 25th, requested by the Chancellor. Duke Vladimirov, as Minister of Justice and Director of Police Forces, would like to know why this has been arranged.”

“It is in order to ensure that each office and team knows exactly what are their responsibilities and jurisdictions.” Mark grinned. He picked up his red kitten from where it was sniffing his tea and put it back on his lap. “Your Excellency, do you want to explain?”

“Yes, thank you. Sire, Your Grace, with your permission,” Vasya opened his folder and took out a stack of papers.

The moment Vladimirov saw them, he frowned. “You will read out all these papers to us?”

“Yes, Sir, to make clear how there is an urgent need for such a meeting.”

He looked at the papers, and shook his head. “I trust you.” He hugged his cat a little closely. “I have no objections to the meeting, Sire.”

“Duke Andrejevich, can you put that on record? Thank you. So, that concludes business for today. I will see you later, Gentlemen. Chancellor, may I have a word?”

Mark stayed behind as the others started filing out, Duke Okdranov talking excitedly to Vasya as they tried to get their dogs to stop playing and running around each other. “It seems that he has changed his mind about Vasya.”

“Oh, good. We should all get along,” he said, petting Oleg’s head. “Mark?” he asked the moment they were alone. “Where is the diamond dress?”

“Excuse me?”

“The diamond dress, and the veil that He had made for me.”

“In the Treasury, as you had requested.”

“You have not broken it apart, have you?”

“Of course not.”

He sighed with relief. “Mark,” he smiled. “I need it. Immediately.”

“Sire?”

“I have a plan!” he grinned, pushed Oleg gently aside, and stood up. He begun pacing around the room, Oleg following him happily. “Mark, I have a plan to make Nikolaj forgive us all if he disagrees with what we just did.”

“What?”

“Remember that you wanted to ask me about my private time?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I want to use some time every day to make Nikolaj so very pleased with me, he will forgive me – and you too, if it comes to that. But I want absolute secrecy. It has to be a surprise to him.”

Mark grinned. “Sire. If you tell me what the surprise is, I can make any letter mentioning it disappear. But I need to know what I am looking for.”

He grinned. “A painting. I will send him a painting. So, if you see any letters mentioning what I am doing… Erm… Isn’t that wrong? To open and read people’s letters?”

“Not when it comes to matters of Imperial security.” Mark smiled sympathetically. “It can’t be helped, Sire, especially now. We are at war, and you are under threat.”

Elik nodded. He didn’t think it was right, but he could understand the necessity. Oh, well, if he couldn’t make Nikolaj very, very pleased with him, he wouldn’t need to worry about Francis! He’d worry about being exiled – or worse! And then he would find out what Mark wanted to do with his new life. 

He wondered if Mark would take Filon and Artyom with him. He couldn’t imagine Ekaterina leaving him, after all. He stopped walking and looked at him. “You, Ekaterina, Filon, and Artyom. How exactly does that work?”

“Very well, Sire,” Mark replied with a wide grin. “I will go find that dress and send it to your rooms,” he said, bowing and leaving him alone before he could ask any other questions. 

Oh, well, it was worth asking!

&*&*

“Your Excellency, do you have a moment?”

Vasily stopped at Okdranov’s words. “Yes. What may I do for you?”

“More like, what can I do for you,” Okdranov smiled. “Since His Majesty is busy today and you are busy on the 25th, I thought we can hold some tests today, so you can see what our weapons can do.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to conduct experiments after we have made plaques of different thickness for the carriage, so we can actually use them for the tests? These have only started being made today.”

Okdranov looked at him strangely. “Well… just come and we can shoot stuff. It will be fun. We also have started developing a new cannon. That might be of interest to you.”

Vasily was very tempted. “I need to go back to work. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s do this after lunch. What do you say?”

If he didn’t say ‘yes’, Okdranov would continue asking him. “Well… May I also shoot stuff?” 

“Of course. I’ll meet you after lunch, then?”

He nodded. 

“Wonderful. Come, boys.”

This was most peculiar, but he’d get to shoot things! “Come, you,” he told the dogs and started running with them back to his office in the Barracks. That would give them some exercise. 

He started laughing. His dogs had gotten better along at their first meeting with Okdranov’s dogs than him and Okdranov. It was ridiculous.

He stopped at the Training Hall and watched as half of the Guards were practicing with swords.

“Hello,” he grinned. “Where are the others?”

“Choir practice.”

“Ah. I’m going to run one more lap with the dogs. Can you get them by the time I am finished?” 

“You still have stitches,” Nikita reminded him. 

“They barely hurt. It really was just a big scratch.” His migraine had been worse! “Why are you all fussing like that? Come, you!” He went out and started running again. Grisha had mentioned sleigh-rides. He had to start thinking about training them for that. Later.

When he returned to the Training Hall, they were all there. “It’s so weird not seeing Vanya and the others,” he admitted. “I will be so happy when they are back next week.”

“Yes, I missed him too,” Roman nodded.

“Have you started thinking about your village yet? I heard from Master Dulgorov that you postponed your meeting with his team.”

“Yes, we did,” Leonid said. “We will meet him after speaking to Vanya and the others. But we have started making plans. Maxim, Lev, if you please?”

He joined them at the long table at the end of the room. Maxim spread a few papers. 

“Stepan likes back gardens, but we are all used to gardens all around,” Roman said. 

“So, we thought, what if we have a separate back garden?” Karp showed him a plan where the house would be quite close to the front of the property, not in the middle, as was usual. “The fence extends from behind the building all the way to the end of the property, but it has doors, so it is not completely closed off from the rest of the garden.” 

“Hm.” That didn’t look bad. In their place, Grisha and he would plant trees where the fence was. 

“I want a space for grilling sausages,” Peter the Tall smiled. “So, maybe this area of the garden can be an outdoor kitchen. I saw a few houses that had them at Jedlowa!”

“I saw them too. I would like to build one in our home,” he told them. 

“I wanted a round house, but I was overruled,” Maxim grumbled.

“That wasn’t practical at all,” half of them sang.

Maxim showed him his drawing. “What I thought would be amazing! There would be a great, big, round bed in the middle, and everything else would be in the attic. Honestly, what else do we do at home but sleep? We might as well have massive beds!”

“Strangely enough, I see your point,” he smiled. “But a square or rectangular house is more practical,” he said, noticing how their plans had both.

“We need to think about the public spaces too. Vanya really wanted a central square,” Roman said. 

“But we are going to have a hundred houses! We may need more squares.”

“And gardens.”

Lev found a plan of the area that His Majesty had given them. “Look at this space!” he marvelled. “We can do so many things, so we need to think everything carefully.”

“You should have a school. And a small hospital," he told them. Ah, they were still so young, but so full of ideas. How proud he was of them!

“Will you join us at the meeting with the architect?”

“No, it’s your village. But I would be happy to help with anything you need help.”

“Thank you, Captain. So, what did you want to talk to us about?”

“As you know, from tonight we go back to our nightly duties at the Palace.”

They nodded, grinning.

“From now on, I want you to treat Ivanhof as you have treated any foreign palace.”

“Captain,” Roman gasped. “We are to spy on our own Lords and Ladies?”

“Indeed. We will never allow anyone to hurt our Young Lord again. Once was enough.” Although he had enjoyed traveling, if he were honest, he would rather it had happened for different reasons. 

Filon raised his hand. “Are the Chancellor and Her Grace exempt from this?”

Everyone laughed.

“No.”

“What?” Artyom gasped in the silence that followed. 

“Mark has me followed. He deserves to be spied upon,” he grinned. “Only, spare me the details in their case. Please. It was one thing to know how big Hans Ulrich was, and quite another to know how big my cousin is.”

“You mean, you don’t know already?” Maxim asked him. 

“What do you think?” he asked him seriously. 

“Why would the Chancellor spy on you?” Sila asked before Maxim could reply and after putting his hand over Maxim’s mouth. 

“He thinks I will join the team that went to Oerestand to support Grisha.”

“And, will you?” Roman asked him.

“No, my place is here. With you and His Majesty.” He looked at them seriously. “We’re in this together. And this is protecting His Majesty. I will be wherever I am needed.”

Valery looked at him strangely. “Hm, does that mean you don’t want us to share the juicy details anymore?” He grinned. “Have you become a prude, Captain?”

“Shame on you,” Luka shouted. 

He looked at them. “You can share them. Just not the details about Mark and his wife.” 

Filon and Artyom shared a look that made him worry. 

“I mean it,” he told them. “It would be like knowing details about Vanya and Sana.”

“Ewwww,” Maxim grimaced. 

“Filon, Artyom, if you dare share such details with the Captain, I will hang you upside down from the central building,” Roman added. 

“And we will help,” Leonid and Peter the Tall told them.

“Thank you.” He snapped his fingers and the dogs stood up from where they were lying. “Gentlemen, I will see you before dinner.”

“Yes, Sir,” they shouted, saluting him. 

He walked out, hearing footsteps behind him. He slowed his steps, allowing the Guard to approach. “Valery?”

“You will join the team, won’t you?” he told him quietly as they moved towards the building with the offices and the Mess Hall. 

“No.”

Valery stared at him. “You did not say that you will stay with us. You said you will be wherever you are needed.”

“And I meant that.”

“Then, I want to support you.” 

He studied him. He looked determined to help. “Valery,” he smiled, “it may not come to that. I trust in the men. But if it does, then…”

“Please, Sir.”

“You don’t know what you are asking.”

“I think I do. And I don’t care. He was my Captain first. I think I speak for all of the Captain’s Huntsmen when I say that we will join you.”

He glanced back towards the Training Hall, from where Sila, Kornei, Bram, Andrik, Sergei and Vadim were emerging. “You do speak for all of you,” he grinned. He waited until the others were there.

“Sir,” Bram started. “We want to support you. He was our Captain first, and whatever he planned, we want to make it happen.”

He nodded. “Gentlemen, thank you. I appreciate this.” He smiled at them. “Let us be the back-up team of the back-up team. Only, we will not fail in our mission. Even if we have to blow up the Royal Palace and half of Krzydzov with it, we will not fail.”

Valery and the others nodded, their expressions grim. 

“But let’s hope we are lucky and the first team succeeds. It would be such a shame to causes damages at Krzydzov. It is a beautiful city.”

Vadim laughed. “And we will probably have children there by the time we arrive there.”

“Indeed,” Kornei grinned. “I hope they are as blond as I am.”

“Gentlemen, I am sorry but I do need to leave you. Please, hold your enthusiasm for when we know if we need to go blow things up.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Smiling, he ran to his office. Grisha was so marvelous, so wonderful, so amazing to inspire his men to this degree! He couldn’t wait to see him again, one way or the other!

“Hello,” he grinned at Private Sukhov, who was still acting as his secretary, before rushing into his office. “At ease,” he shouted, closing the door.

He was thankful that the kittens were not on his chair when he entered his office, but instead they were running around. He closed the door hurriedly behind him, let the dogs sit by the desk, and he took out a paper.

_Ivanhof, 23rd of Fire Month,_

_My Dear Lady,_

_I am well, and I hope the same for you._

_I cannot begin to thank you enough for the Old Things you have sent me. Can you please send me the rest of the set (the one with the twelve cups) and anything else that is an Old Thing? His Majesty remembered that they are proof of your descent from Malk the Fierce, so they are exactly the things we need to have in order to prove your nobility._

_You asked me about wives and husbands and… I think that, despite the wisdom that your nature and your age give you, you are confused by what society perceives as proper. You want to be called a Husband, even though you are a Lady and there has been no female husband before. You reject the part that society has given you on account of your sex, namely that of Wife, yet you expect others to conform to those parts (namely to be either Wives or Husbands)._

_So, my Lady, I ask you: why? Why must there be Wives and Husbands? What is a Wife and what is a Husband? And why do you accept these names and parts for others, but not yourself?_

_I am eagerly waiting for your answer._

_As to the other matter, the ‘little something’ Your Excellency and Lady Katya made… I was incredibly_

He stopped writing and covered his face with his hands. He had been mortified, and stunned, and if it weren’t for Grisha, who would be amused by it, he would have burned it the moment he saw it. 

Waiting! Even the title was weird. People explained the story in the titles, they didn’t use a single word as a title. Or maybe they used a name. What weird and modern thing was this? He hadn’t dared read past the opening page!

He sighed as he resumed lying about Lady Irina’s ‘little something’.

_delighted to receive it and I thank you, also on behalf of Grisha. He will be even more delighted than I was to read it._

At least that was true. 

_I remain your most humble servant,_

_V. Lesnev_

He read his letter again. Perhaps he was being harsh on her, and she was still in that age between being a child and a woman…. Could he really be asking her these things? He should be nurturing her spirit, not confusing it. 

He started again, copying his whole letter until he reached the part about husbands and wives. 

_My Dear Lady, you asked “Sometimes, it is confusing having a brother who is a wife. Do you have a brother who is also a wife? Or… are you or your husband really a wife? Is that confusing for you? I am so confused!”_

He had a brother who was one of the finest Bosilik perverts in the land, he grinned. But he couldn’t write that!

_My Dear Lady, I can understand your confusion regarding His Majesty’s situation – but what does it matter that your brother is a wife? Your brother is your brother – isn’t that what matters? He is the first-born of Your House, and the King of Quhjan. What do these things have to do with his marital status? And here, he is His Majesty’s One and Only Consort of Imperial Rank – he is not a wife, he is the only person who shares equally in his husband’s fortune, his joys and his sorrows._

_Where Grisha and I are concerned, we are partners. The legal term used in that piece of paper in the archives that testifies to our marriage is ‘husband’ for both of us, but, for us, it is just a word. Grisha is my equal, my one and only, my love, and I am his. Sometimes, I do what a wife does: I clean the house, and I do the laundry. Sometimes, he does what a wife does: he cooks and washes. We both host our friends, and we both support each other._

_We both do what husbands do: we tend to the garden and to our animals (though not as often as we would like – we have help for them), we fix things in the house, and we attend the village council meetings when we can._

_Mainly, though, we both believe in sharing our burdens and our joys, and in becoming better partners for the other. And, as far as we are concerned, it makes no difference to us whether people call me Grisha’s wife or call Grisha my wife, because we are beyond that._

_Regarding the legal rights of wives and husbands and the differences between them legally, though, I cannot offer any advice. I have not studied law. But your question is good: why does the first-born get all the good stuff? And you have already answered it: historically, the first-born son inherited everything either because the parental property was too small to be divided, or so large that dividing it would result in the loss of status of the family. The daughters moved out of the house, and so, taking things or land from their paternal families and give them to another man’s family was just as bad as losing the property at cards._

_Other societies, however, did and do things differently. I will refrain from writing examples; I know how they must be boring to an active and energetic Young Lady as yourself._

_This whole answer must be boring to you. I apologize. I should try to be brief: husband and wife are words that refer to two human beings. Society may have an opinion of how these two human beings should behave, and that husbands should be different than wives, but there are as many opinions on what these words mean (namely, husband and wife), as there are societies. Isn’t it more honest and natural to let those two human beings decide for themselves what they are to each other? Most will conform to what society expects them to be, based on how they have decided the meaning of the word. Others, will make their own rules._

_My Lady, by asking to be called a Husband instead of a Wife, you have decided to make your own rules. What if you treated others the same way as you treat yourself? I mean, instead of being confused as to what it means that your brother is a wife, just accept your brother as your married brother, and stop calling him a wife._

He stopped again. Now he was lecturing her. 

Oh, how this Young Lady confused him. 

He started again, first by copying the beginning. That was good. 

_As for myself, I am not confused: I do not see His Majesty as a Wife, but as His Most Gracious Majesty, whom I have sworn to protect and serve. I have lost my brother, but if he had been married, I would not have seen him as a husband or a wife, but as my married brother. If you were to be wed, to me you would not be either a wife or a husband, but a married Lady of Rank. Dorofea Anishina, who looks after our animals, is not a wife, she is Dorofea Anishina. And Grisha is my husband only because that’s the legal term that refers to a married man – to me, he is my partner and my Grisha._

_I see people who happen to be married or unmarried, and who decide themselves how they behave, and so I am not confused at all._

This was rude… Ah, fuck it. That Young Lady confused him so much! And she was so precocious! He had to be careful with her!

_I am sorry if I just wrote something rude, but I am confused myself! You clearly see the truth of the matter: that people can decide for themselves what they will be to their partners (since you will be a Husband by Imperial Decree), so why are you confused whether one is a wife or a husband?_

_Are you confused about what men and women are supposed to do according to society? Is that it?_

He banged his head on the desk twice. When would it be lunch time? He really wanted that to come, so he could go blow things up. Lady Irina was Most Frightening! 

He would write a reply to her later. None of these were any good! 

He looked up and saw one of the dogs staring at him with a curious expression, as if to tell him he was being needlessly worried. 

_Ivanhof, 23rd of Fire Month,_

_My Dear Lady,_

_I am well, and I hope the same for you._

_I cannot begin to thank you enough for the Old Things you have sent me. Can you please send me the rest of the set (the one with the twelve cups) and anything else that is an Old Thing? His Majesty remembered that they are proof of your descent from Malk the Fierce, so they are exactly the things we need to have in order to prove your nobility._

_You asked me about wives and husbands and inheritance rights and… that is a question for people who have studied law, and I am not one of them._

_As to the other matter, the ‘little something’ Your Excellency and Lady Katya made… I was incredibly delighted to receive it and I thank you, also on behalf of Grisha. He will be even more delighted than I was to read it._

_I remain your most humble servant,_

_V. Lesnev_

There, that had to be enough. Perhaps she would stop writing to him after this.

Or, was he being rude again? She was frightening, but she also was so clever and brilliant and had such good ideas about the equality of men and women! He had to guide her to knowledge, not discourage her. He also had to make her stop calling His Majesty a ‘wife’ since he really minded about such a silly thing. 

The next day he’d write a better reply. For now, he would stop and go have lunch. The day before he’d been too busy for that, but they had sent up some cold soup for him, since that was on the menu. Would they have it that day as well? He hoped so! 

&*&*

As usual, there was a change of Guards between lunch and tea and this time, Elik had selected the Guards himself! Oh, how hard it was to be patient through lunch and tea with the Ladies, when all he wanted was to be with the Guards! 

Yes, patient he was, and he waited until the Ladies had left the drawing room. He ran up to his rooms next and the moment they were alone in the reception room before his bedroom, he grabbed their hands. “Maxim, Valery, I need your help,” he told them desperately. 

“Sire!” They both shouted, and put their free hands over Elik’s. “What can we do for you?” Maxim asked him. 

Elik looked at them. “Of all the men, you and Sila are the only ones who know of Grisha’s full plan, and how dangerous it is. You also know that we fear that His Majesty will not approve it.”

Valery nodded. “Everyone suspects it, though. And we all want nothing more than to help.”

“So, I thought of a plan.” He took a step back and looked at them. “Please, would you strip for me?”

Valery looked like he was about to faint. Maxim staggered and hit the chair behind him. “Your Majesty,” he gasped, looking horrified. 

He really needed to learn how to explain himself better. “Of all the Guards, you are the closest to me in build. I need you.”

They shared a panicked look. “Maybe I should inform the Captain,” Valery said and stopped, making Maxim nod.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” he told them. Grabbing their hands, he tried to pull them into the bedroom. Both of them resisted. “Valery, Maxim, I can’t do this without you,” he cried.

“And we can’t do it with you,” Maxim protested, and Valery agreed with a nod.

“Do what with me?” He asked them curiously. 

Valery and Maxim frowned. “Sire, what do you want us to do exactly?” Valery asked him slowly. 

“I want you to try my diamond dress.”

“Excuse me?” Maxim frowned.

“I have this plan, you see!” This time, when he started pulling them in his bedroom, they did not resist. “If His Majesty does not approve of our plan, then he will be cross with me, and Vasya, and Mark and everyone else.”

Maxim sighed. “He might,” he agreed.

“If he gets cross, he might send us all in exile. I hope.”

Maxim smiled slowly. “I always wanted to be an artist. If we went to exile, I would paint people’s portraits in the public squares until someone recognized my talent, and became my agent. Or, he took me under his wing and set me up in my own studio. Or made me live and paint for them at their home.”

Valery smirked. “Which talent would you like them to recognize really, Maxim?”

“Oh, shut up,” Maxim grinned, hitting him lightly with his elbow. 

“What would you be, Valery? I would be a singer.” Elik told him proudly. 

“I would be… I don’t know what I would be. I’m happy being a Guard. Maybe I could still be your Guard, Sire? When you become a famous singer on account of your wonderful voice, you would need someone to guard you.”

What was Valery talking about? His voice was average; he would never become a famous singer because of his voice. No, he would become famous on account of being a disgraced Empress. He grinned. “I would like that, Valery. Vasya says he will be a cook, and he will make food out of whatever produce Grisha’s garden produces.”

Valery expression turned wistful for a second. “Yes, they would like that. Yes,” he smiled brightly again. “I can see them already.”

“And Mark would do something very naughty, I am sure. I wonder if Filon and Artyom would join him.”

“Who knows?” Valery said.

Damn, and he’d tried to be sneaky about it. “But I don’t want to go in exile. Not when my home and my friends are here. So, I thought that I need to make His Majesty so very pleased with me, that he will forgive us all.”

“That is an excellent plan, Sire. And how do you think of doing this?”

“By sending him a painting,” he smiled. “And for that, I need your help!”

“Of course,” they both smiled back. 

&*&*

Elik was so impatient, he could not sit still. He paced around the room until the knocks on the door happened. “Enter,” he shouted and tried to sit down and look regal. 

Master Dijkstra appeared, making a deep bow. Elik motioned him to come in. “Please, sit.” He pointed at a chair right across the desk. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Coffee, Your Majesty.”

He poured some for the painter, and some tea for himself. “Maxim, Valery?” he turned to the two of them, sitting at the sofa. 

“Nothing, Sire, thank you,” Maxim said politely. 

“Master Dijkstra, I am so honoured that you accepted my offer to work for me. As I had told you, I had seen your work at various Palaces at Fladd and I was most impressed. No, more than impressed, but there is no word for that. Your sense of colour, your treatment of light, your devotion to truth. You make art that pleases both nature and the eye. Art that His Majesty will appreciate, because he too believes that art should be true to nature, like you.”

Master Dijkstra looked proud of himself. “Thank you, Sire. Art must be true to nature, or it is not art at all.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. This was for himself! This was for himself. “Master Dijkstra,” he said, “as you know, His Majesty is away, fighting for justice and freedom.”

The painter nodded, his expression carefully blank. Well, he hadn’t hired him for his opinions, so he was glad that he had kept them to himself. 

“At the last Winter Solstice, he expressed His wish to have Us painted, so I have decided that I would like to surprise him with the painting of his dreams, and inspire him while he fights. I want two paintings, in fact. One small, portable one, that he can have with him in his campaign, and a large one, for Our Palace. Would that be possible?”

“Of course,” Master Dijkstra replied, looking offended that Elik had suggested such a thing. “There has not been a portrait I have not done to perfection regardless of the size of my panel.”

“How wonderful!” He smiled. “His Most Wise and Noble Majesty has this vision for the painting. In the centre, he wants me all regal and dignified.”

Master Dijkstra nodded, looking a bit bored and unimpressed at the idea. 

“On one of the side panels, though…”

“You want a triptych?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just a bit old-fashioned.”

Elik laughed. “So is Our Palace. And I would like the side-panels to have their own covers, because I would like His Majesty to decide whether he should show them or not.”

“A polyptych, then. Yes, no problem. So, what do you wish on the panels, Sire?”

“On one of the panels,” he stood up, “I would like to be painted in the costume His Majesty had made for me. His vision was that I am rising out of the waters of a lake or a river wearing that.”

“Hm… That sounds fantastical.”

He smiled. “It is, but no more fantastical than the painting of the Noble Wife of King Euleus that you had painted for Duke d’Aumire at Fladd.”

“Indeed,” he grumbled, as if he were unhappy to be reminded of that. 

“On the other panel, he wants me in our bed.”

Master Dijkstra’s eyes widened with surprise. “Sire, that is…”

“This is Bosilke, Sir.” He grinned. “Or have you not heard how extraordinary Our Court is?”

“Of course, I had, everyone has, but to paint a Royal Personage as a …” he gasped and brought both hands over his mouth, shocked at what he had been about to say.

“You are painting a husband waiting for his husband to return from the front. Oh, how much I miss him,” he sighed. “Please wait here. Maxim, Valery.”

He walked into the bedroom, Maxim and Valery behind him, and closed the door behind them. “So, who should wear it? He looks like he’s about to faint already so I fear that if he sees me in that dress, he might truly pass out. On the other hand, maybe it is good for him to see what he has to work with.”

“I know,” Maxim grinned. “You wear that thing, and we will be naked. That way, he can see what great stand-ins we can be for you, whenever you are too busy to be painted.”

Valery nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Yes, I think you are right.” 

They all started getting undressed. “Should I keep my chemise underneath? It is a bit uncomfortable on naked skin.”

“Will you have that for the painting?” Maxim asked. 

“Of course not. He will be displeased if I do.”

“Then, no chemise,” Valery advised him. 

“I’m surprised you don’t mind.”

He snorted. “Please, everyone has seen me naked at Ivanhof at one point or another. Besides, this is for Nikolaj,” he shivered with pleasure at the idea of pleasing him, and making him forgive them. “I want to make him so happy.”

“That will definitely make him happy,” Valery grinned. 

He put on the diamond dress. “You know, I will have it modified after the painting. For part two of my plan!”

Maxim studied him and let out a whistle. “I do not know how you can improve on that. Sire, you look so amazing in this!”

Valery just stared at him. Finally, he nodded. “This should be your official portrait,” he said. “The perfect painting of our Most Marvellous Consort of Imperial Rank.”

He smiled. “Ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” they saluted him. 

Elik grinned. If this painting didn’t please Nikolaj more than greatly, then he didn’t know what would! 

He opened the door and Master Dijkstra spat out the coffee he’d been drinking and dropped his cup on the floor. 

“That was not the reaction I expected,” he whispered as the painter tried to bring himself under control. 

Valery huffed. “Do you really think he can handle this assignment?”

“If not, I will paint you, Sire,” Maxim said enthusiastically.

Hm, there was a thought. 

&*&*

Vasily went up to his office to change his uniform before going for dinner. He should go home at some point, but since he still had clean clothes at the Barracks and there was no Grisha to wait for him, why should he hurry? He’d do it after dinner. 

“Did they behave?” he asked Private Sukhov.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you.” He opened the door and stopped at the sight of his very tidy desk. “Sukhov?” The dogs raised their heads from where they were lying at the sound of his voice. 

“Yes, Sir?”

“My desk.”

“Yes, Sir, what about it?”

“It is clean.”

“Yes, Sir,” Sukhov answered, sounding proud of himself. “I sent your letters and put the papers in their folders and ….”

“You sent my letters?” he whispered.

“Yes, Sir.”

He went into his office and closed the door behind him before collapsing on the floor. And that had been such a good day. The Ministers had not chewed him out as he had feared, he had a back-up team for the back-up team, his men invited him to lunch at the Mess Hall, and so he had avoided the court, and he had shot and blown things up! 

None of his letters were any good. He’d been rude, and preachy, and… Young people should be approached with care and be nurtured. His letters had been far from caring or kind. Oh, why hadn’t he burned them before leaving? 

The kittens approached him first and climbed on him. Mark was right; they were soft, and light, and he helped them up on his lap. The dogs were next. Vasily hugged the first one that approached him and hid his face against its soft and furry neck. 

“I have failed Her,” he whispered, feeling like crying. “How could I do that?”

The second dog nudged him as the kittens squirmed and the black ones started making their ascent towards his chest. He hugged it with his other hand, and let the two other dogs step on his legs. He stared at them.

He was so miserable, but he was in a pile of dogs! 

He would manage.

What was the worst thing that could happen, he thought as all four dogs tried to lick him and the kittens used him as a scratching post in their attempts to reach up? Lady Irina would think him mad and indecisive and she would stop writing to him. That would be… the best thing, actually!

Yes, this day was still good!

&*&*

Nikolaj looked at the blank papers and the letters in front of him. He really had to reply to them. He didn’t want to, though. He had messed up so much. 

_23rd of Fire Month,_

_Dear Mark,_

_I hope you are well. I am… I don’t know how I am._

_Mark? I messed up. You will never believe how much I messed up. When we see each other, I give you permission to punch me._

_I cannot write anything more on the matter right now. Just know that I made a huge mistake, and my only hope is that Luck will help me rectify matters._

_Your friend,_

_Nikolaj_

That was easy. 

_23rd of Fire Month,_

_My Dear Duke,_

_I hope you are well._

_We were glad to read that you finally appreciated Lesnev’s talents. He is a very capable officer. May We remind you that he did serve under Our command, and We would not have entrusted him with the security of Our Most Gracious Consort, had We not known that he would be able to handle it?_

_Vassily, if you want him to work for you, just ask him._

He crossed out the letter. No, he would not write to Vassily. He was not ready for that. 

But he should write to Elik. He had to. He sighed. He didn’t want to! 

_23rd of Fire Month,_

_My Elik,_

_Praise be to Luck for preserving your life._

_And to Lesnev! We are thinking of promoting him – and his husband,_

But what would be the best time for doing that? Before having them execute the coup, probably. But if he did it later, it would like he was rewarding the hero who had saved his darling and secured peace.   
Why was everything so difficult?

_who has brought Us dreadful and horrible news of Francis’ perfidy, which we will not abide!_

He really hoped no one had told Elik what he’d done, but … someone would have told Vasya, surely. Unless they had decided to keep it from him, and not have him worry? 

He had been making mistake after mistake these days. He should be honest, since what he wanted to do was hide the truth. That would prove a mistake, he was certain of it. 

_I am really sorry to say that it took me a few days before I realised how important the situation was._

He put his quill down. How could he really write to his darling that he was ready to let him to the mercy of Luck (and Lesnev’s Guards) for the sake of not betraying his idea of what Royal Brothers ought to do? 

It would be the same as writing to him that he had preferred Francis to him. 

Really, how could he have done that? The moment he’d announced Vasya’s punishment, Grisha fell to his knees in front of him, and asked to be punished in his place. In Grisha’s place, he wouldn’t even have thought of that. He’d have thought that ten lashes were more than enough for him, and let Elik receive his ten. And then, when he offered Grisha something for himself, Grisha had thought only of Vasya, and how to save him. 

Was there something wrong with him for putting himself first? 

Or was it because Vasya and Grisha were so… they really lived as if they were in their own romance story, and everyone knew they were weird. Perhaps there was nothing wrong with him, but something wrong with them. Like loving each other excessively.

He crossed out his letter and picked up another sheet of paper. 

_23rd of Fire Month,_

_My Husband!_

_Praise be to Luck for preserving your life (and to Lesnev)! We could not be more relieved to hear of it. We are SO GLAD!_

_We offered thanks to Luck for saving you!_

_Your loving Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. after a short stay at Nisdruna, we are back on the move. No resistance! We are overnighting at a village and moving onwards tomorrow morning. Wish us Luck, as we wish that for you!_

He really didn’t want to write anything else. When they were together, he and Elik would need to talk. Again. And just talk. Not fuck and talk in between. 

Or, better yet…

He got out of his room, and looked at Longin and Isak, who’d lost at drawn lots and hadn’t been able to stay back at Nisdruna with Grisha. 

They looked at him unhappily. They still hadn’t accepted that they had to be with him and not their Captain. 

“I want to ask your professional opinion,” he said. 

“Yes?” Longin asked with the tiniest of frowns.

“If I were to talk to someone about something, or ask them about some things, whom should I ask?”

“Excuse me?” Isak asked, perplexed. 

“My priorities were completely wrong these days. How could I have made such a mistake? And how do I fix it? If I send a message to Grisha to join me when he is better…”

They both glared at him. 

“Fine, I won’t do that. Then, whom can I ask about it?”

“The Cook,” Longin and Isak told him at the same time. 

“What?”

“Major Lesnev, the Captain’s husband. He cooks for everyone at the trips, and we help him and…” Longin stopped, like he wasn’t sure how to continue. 

“While we prepare the food, we discuss things,” Isak said. 

“It is worse than standing under cold waterfalls,” Longin added. “He asks until he has an answer.”

“And he never accepts ‘I don’t know’ as an answer, even when you really don’t know.”

“At least you can move away from the waterfall after a few minutes,” Longin sighed. 

“Ah, I see. Thank you.”

He went back inside. When he was back, he’d have to talk to Vasya first. If Vasya was willing to talk to him. So Grisha had to get all well, go back to Vasya, persuade him to forgive Nikolaj, and then, when he was back, he could talk to him, before talking to Elik.

Why couldn’t he have just told Grisha ‘do whatever you want and leave me alone’ when Grisha had come to see him? It would have made everything easier!


	66. Chapter 66

24th

Nikolaj took a deep breath. He’d spent most of the night feeling stupid. 

It wasn’t like anything could remain a secret. Not at his court, not at his armies, not anywhere. 

He picked up his quill. 

_24th of Fire Month,_

_My Most Wonderful and Clever Love,_

_There is something wrong with me, and I don’t know what._

_Forgive me._

_I promise you; I will try to fix this. And I will explain, I promise that too. Just not now._

_Your loving husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

Putting that aside, he picked up another piece of paper. 

_24th of Fire Month,_

_Dear Vasya,_

_I hope you understand that this is not your Emperor writing to you, not even your superior officer. This is Nikolaj writing to you, your childhood friend._

_I am sorry. I broke my promise to you._

_I hope you can forgive me._

_And maybe help me. There is something wrong with me._

“Fuck,” he thought as he crossed out his letter. Hadn’t he already written to Vasya to come to his camp immediately, so as to form the team that Grisha couldn’t? And double-fuck. Hadn’t he told Grisha to go home to Vasya? 

There was something very wrong with him. 

At least there was still no resistance and no sign of Fredrik’s army. This was going to be the weirdest campaign of his life. He was certain of it.

&*&*

Evgeni studied the Major. He looked better. Perhaps sleeping uninterrupted by work for a day had been good for him. The Major hadn’t minded when the Guards or the soldiers came to see him, but His Majesty was such a … he growled.

“Evgeni,” the Major whispered, turning his head towards him with his eyes still closed. “What is it?”

“Nothing, sorry for disturbing you, Sir.”

He looked at him. “Where Is Carel and Michal?”

“They went to bring you some tea and soup.”

“More chicken soup?” he smiled.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Have you tried it? It is good. We should get the recipe.”

He started sitting up and Evgeni ran to help him. “Now I believe that you are better,” Evgeni grinned.

“Does this mean I can go home?” he asked, sounding a little tired. 

“The Doctor would like your fever to be gone completely before you travel.”

“I’m…” He looked frustrated. 

“Please? The better you are when you leave here, the faster you can travel,” Evgeni told him reasonably. “You will probably have to travel on a carriage if we leave today or in the next few days. Unless you want that, Sir?”

“No, I hate traveling in a carriage.” He grinned suddenly. “There are exceptions, of course.”

Probably ones that involved the Captain, Evgeni thought and smiled. 

“His Majesty must have arrived at the Capital,” the Major said quietly. “I wonder if Vasya went home or if he’s staying at the Barracks.”

Evgeni stood up. “What if you wrote him a letter, Sir? If you are feeling well enough? I’ll go get a piece of paper from somewhere.” He ran out of the room.

“He’s well,” he whispered at the Captain’s men who were outside. “He asked about the Captain.” All these days, when he was awake, he either answered the Monster, or reassured everyone that he was not about to die. He looked at them. “I hate lying. I can’t do it.”

“Take a deep breath, Evgeni,” Yulian told him. “You can do it, because this is for his own good.” He sighed. “Had we known that the Cook was injured, we would never have written him. Worrying is not good for one’s health.”

He agreed. If only they had received the news about the Captain’s injury before the Major’s punishment, they would never have written to him. By the time they had received the news late in the afternoon, though, Evgeni and Carel had already sent their letter per the Major’s request, and, as they found out from Count Bitoulin’s secretary, so had several others of the Major’s men. They all had thought that the Cook should know of the injustice. And since they had written about the injustice, they had to continue sending him daily reports. What a mess….

A few deep breaths later, he felt better. “Do you have a piece of paper?”

Yulian gave him his notebook.

“Thanks.” He went back to the room. “You can dictate it to me.” 

The Major shook his head. “No. He already knows how I am, because you are writing to him, right?” 

“Yes, Sir, but if received a letter from you, he would feel better.”

“That is true,” he smiled a little. 

Carel opened the door. “Your tea, Sir.” Michal followed him, carrying a tray with the soup bowl. 

“Thank you. Letter writing can wait.” He looked at Michal before drinking a little. “How are your hands, kid?”

Evgeni looked at Carel. The Major was really well. He was asking about Michal’s hands again!

“Better, Sir.” He put down the tray and showed him how he could flex all his fingers. “Sir? How did you know where to stab me?”

“Practice,” the Major told him seriously. 

Evgeni shivered. That job really was not for him. 

Michal nodded solemnly. “I see.” He sat next to Sir. “I don’t like war. Or armies. If I go home, I will do something else.”

“If?” Evgeni asked him.

“What?” Carel said at the same time. 

“I will learn how to make people well.” 

“Why did you say ‘if’, Michal?”

“Because…” He started crying, and Evgeni was not that surprised that the Major hugged him lightly. “I saw a bad dream last night. Crows, so many black crows, circling our house. That is a bad dream. I think Mama…”

“Dreams are just dreams,” Evgeni told him gently. 

“Yes, don’t worry about them,” Carel added.

“Sir?”

“Dreams are what you want your future to be like, not what you see in your sleep.”

Michal studied him. He made a noise. “My dreams come true, though. Sometimes. The night before my Captain sent me to you, I dreamt I fell down a well.”

“That was because you were worried.”

Michal didn’t look convinced. “Wells are not good signs. You know what happened next.”

“Yes, but you’re still here, Michal. It can’t have been a very bad sign,” the Major told him. 

“Crows are worse,” Michal told them sadly. 

The Major smiled. “I disagree. I know a story where crows give good signs.” He finished his tea. “Do you want to hear it? It is the story of Igor, the Wise Farmer.”

Michal nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Evgeni smiled at Carel. ‘He’s finally better,’ he wrote on a page of Yulian’s notebook. ‘I think he will be well enough to travel in a few days – if not sooner.’

Carel nodded, and smiled with relief. He took the pencil and added underneath, ‘On his letter from the 15th, Bram wrote to Dusya that the Captain was still looking weak. Let’s hope the Captain is well too by now.’

He nodded. They needed so much Luck these days! 

&*&* 

“And that concludes today’s business,” Duke Andrejevich told them.

“Thank you, Mr Secretary.” Elik stood up. “I will…” he stared out of the window at the garden. “Oh!” he whispered, shocked and disappointed. Mostly shocked. Ah, Maxim! 

Everyone stood up and looked down at the garden, where Maxim was wearing his diamond dress by the fountain, while various court Ladies and Gentlemen were sitting around having tea. Staring at Maxim. And probably gossiping. Maxim had just ruined his surprise!

He turned around, feeling miserable, and found the Ministers still absorbed by the sight. 

“That is your diamond dress, Sire,” Duke Vladimirov told him as if he couldn’t see it himself. 

“Why is he wearing it?” Duke Okdranov asked. 

“His Majesty will not like it,” Duke Andrejevich muttered. 

Duke Theissen just stared with his mouth open. 

Mark shrugged.

“The cat is out of the bag,” he whispered.

“What cat? Where?” Duke Vladimirov asked him, looking around. 

“It’s an expression, meaning the secret is out,” Mark explained. 

“I knew that. I was just hoping that there was another cat at the Council. Yours and mine do not get along,” he said with a resigned sigh. “Adam?” He turned to Duke Andrejevich. “You also have dogs. Why didn’t you bring them here today either?”

“I have Bosilik Shepherds, and you know how big they are.”

“I don’t,” Elik said. “Can you bring… Oh, I have an idea? What if we had a dog show and contest at Ivanhof? Everyone can bring their dogs and show them off, and we will have tea while judging them.”

Mark grinned. “You just want to keep the Ladies busy, don’t you?”

Lady Ekaterina must have told him that. He had never spoken of it to anyone from His Husband’s court. “Nothing wrong with that.” He had to keep them busy, or else they would be up to no good. Or worse, they would be bored!

Duke Okdranov laughed. “Just send your Special Guards down in the garden. Naked. This seems to be working well enough for these Ladies. And some of the Gentlemen.”

“But why is He wearing Your diamond dress?” Duke Theissen asked.

“Let’s go find out,” Elik said. He was also curious about that. It was supposed to be a secret. He sighed.

“I can still make things disappear,” Mark whispered to him as they went out.

“How many? Each one of them could reveal the secret. There are at least fifty people down there, if not more.”

“What is the secret?” Duke Vladimirov asked. 

Elik sighed even more deeply. Now this would never work. He walked down silently, while the Ministers muttered behind him, their tone full of curiosity and amusement. 

The moment he was near the fountain, all the Courtiers stood up and either bowed or curtsied to him. “Your Majesty,” Lady Ekaterina said first.

He nodded. “Maxim,” he huffed. “What are you doing?”

Maxim looked awkward and a little miserable. “Master Han made me, Your Majesty.” He pointed towards Master Dijkstra, who was the only one who didn’t seem to have noticed him arrive at the garden. “He said that, in order to paint You with the dress coming out of water, he had to see how the light fell on the dress and the water in order for the portrait to be life-like. We were going around the fountain for an hour until he decided on the right spot for the best effect.”

Ah, the problems of life-like painting. Why hadn’t he thought of that before asking for the portrait? Why couldn’t his husband be satisfied with a painting of a swan? He sighed.

“You are having your portrait made wearing The Dress?” Lady Ekaterina asked, her eyes wide. “What a marvelous idea.”

He nodded. “And Maxim is standing in for me, because I have too many obligations to pose all the time.”

“How clever!” Duchess Okdranova said. 

He sighed even more deeply, “I wanted to surprise His Most Kind and Noble Majesty with it.”

“He will be most pleased, I am sure,” Princess Olga laughed. She was one of Nikolaj’s second cousins and she did not like him. He knew it. “I will write to him immediately!”

“Please, don’t.”

“Why?” she asked him with a smug expression.

“Because…” 

“A husband prefers getting surprises from his wife,” Ekaterina said as she hugged Mark by the waist and kissed him on the cheek, “Your Highness.”

“And a pleasantly surprised husband is one that is meek and mild, even when his wife is naughty,” Mark laughed as he kissed Ekaterina back.

“Indeed,” Duke Okdranov gasped. “And we all want to see His Majesty pleasantly surprised, right? Even you, Your Highness.”

Princess Olga’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she nodded. She turned to Princess Xenia, who was married to Nikolaj’s second cousin Vladimir, and who also didn’t like him. “We do, don’t we?”

Princess Xenia smiled. “Yes, we do. Your Majesty, Olga and I speak on behalf of all the Imperial Princesses when we say that we will keep this a secret, so that His Majesty is most pleasantly surprised.”

Elik frowned for a moment. What had His Majesty been doing during his absence to make even his insufferably haughty cousins want to be nice to him? 

“And I speak of all the Ladies, that we would like nothing more than to help you make His Majesty as pleased as possible,” Lady Ekaterina said, her voice shaking with emotion. “Oh, Sire, everything was so gloomy when you were away.”

All the Ladies nodded. Even the Imperial Princesses. 

“And His Majesty was most frightening,” Duke Andrejevich whispered. 

What had His Husband been doing? He had written and promised him that he would take care of the garden that was Ivanhof and take out the weeds, but it seemed like he had done something unpleasant to the flowers too. If he knew anything about gardening, he’d know what metaphor to use. 

He should have told His Husband that Ivanhof was like a chicken coop. He knew how to take care of chickens, and what metaphors to use. “I am very sorry to hear all this,” he told them. “But now I am here, and things will be different. Not as different as I had hoped, since we are at war, but…” he looked at Maxim. “Different enough.”

“We have lost the light,” Master Dijkstra said while studying Maxim. “We will resume tomorrow.” He looked up. “What are you all doing here?”

“We came to see your progress, of course,” Mark grinned. 

“And the model,” Duke Vladimirov said. 

“Pavel, really?” Duke Theissen asked, surprised. 

“As you all know, I have been unlucky with the oranges, so maybe I should try the apples? And this one has a reputation of being tasty.”

Maxim studied him from top to bottom. “I’m sorry, Your Grace.”

Elik gasped. Maxim had said ‘no’? He turned back and found Avros and Osip just as astonished as he was. 

“Really?” Duke Vladimirov shouted, frustrated. “The apples too? Fuck.”

“Language,” Mark said immediately. 

“I am certain that somewhere in our Empire there are oranges and apples that will be pleased to be… well, you know,” Elik told him politely. “Apart from my sister,” he reprimanded him. “She is still too young for you.” Or anyone else. 

“That was two years ago. Almost three,” Duke Vladimirov whined. “And I would never dare ask for her hand in marriage again after having my request rejected once.”

“Good.”

“Sire?” Maxim approached him. “May I?”

He nodded.

“Your Grace,” Maxim told the duke, “Our Lord’s garden has a lot of other apples that taste just as well. I can introduce you to a few, if you want.”

“It can’t hurt, I guess.”

From the way the courtiers were looking at them, he knew what would be that evening’s entertainment at their joined courts: watching Duke Vladimirov try apples!

“And, Sire?”

“Yes, Maxim?”

“This dress is heavier than it looks. My compliments,” he said seriously.

He smiled. He was slim, but he was not weak. 

“Sire?” 

“Yes, Your Grace,” he turned towards Duchess Okdranov. 

“May we have tea here again tomorrow?”

“Maxim?”

“I don’t care who sees me naked,” he grinned. He turned towards the Ladies and took off the dress. “I look pleasing to the eye, don’t’ I?”

Princess Xenia was the first to clap wildly and nod in appreciation. 

He turned to Duke Okdranov. “Your idea of having naked Guards in the garden has merit. I will ask Maxim later who else might be just as happy to keep Maxim company as he poses. We wouldn’t want him to be bored.”

“No, we would not,” Duke Okdranov grinned, while Mark and Ekaterina began clapping as well. 

Ah, that Maxim!

&*&*

Roman slipped into the Imperial Kitchens, and looked around. Everyone was busy and at their stations, not paying any attention to him. 

“What are you doing here?” Master Dmitri approached and asked him, sounding like he was about to kick him out. 

“I want to try making almond biscuits for my Husband. His Majesty said I can use the kitchens.”

Master Dmitri shook his head. “He’s not even here for three days, and he’s already taking over my kitchens. Why is not happy with the rest of the palace?” he laughed. “Do you know when we will see him down here? Everyone missed him.”

“I don’t know. He is very busy these days.”

“Yes, he’s Regent now, isn’t he?” Master Dmitri said softly. “Come, use whatever you want.”

Roman smiled and went for area where they kept the almonds and the other dried nuts. “I’ll just leave these to soak,” he said as he opened the cupboard, “and I’ll be back tomorrow. Master? Who is that one at the corner? The short one?”

Master Dmitri gave him an exasperated look. “We are all short compared to you, Young Man. Which one of us do you mean?”

“The one with the burn marks on his hand. I don’t remember him.”

“Ah, that’s Andrej. Andrej Efimov. Petrusha fell ill a week ago, and when we looked for a new sauce maker to replace him, he came highly recommended.”

“Who recommended him?”

“Count Markovic.”

“I see. Then he must be good. I heard that dinners at the Count’s palace are legendary.”

“I heard that as well, and I also tested him. He is a very good sauce maker.”

Roman smiled. “That is good. Sauces are important.” He took out four handfuls of almonds, put them on the bowl he had been carrying, and went to the stoves where he knew that there would be a pot or two just with hot water. 

He poured water on the almonds and smiled at Master Dmitri. “I will be back tomorrow,” he told him. “Have a good day!”

“Same to you.”

Roman waved at everyone as he left and went straight for the Imperial Housekeepers’ offices. Highly recommended or not, now the Special Guards were back! And they were checking everyone, starting from the new faces. 

He passed Sila on his way to the Housekeepers’. “Did you find the molasses?” he asked as they passed each other. Sila was checking the kitchens for the staff. 

“No. And you?”

“I found the almonds I was looking for.”

“Ah,” Sila nodded. “Lucky you.”

“Indeed,” he grinned. “See you later, Brother.”

“Later, Brother!”

Roman shook his head, still smiling. Ivanhof was big, and each section required three of them, so they could cover all the shifts of servants and courtiers. It would take them days to cover it all, and this was not the most efficient way of doing things. 

Surely it would have been more efficient to check who had been hired in the last months, instead of going around, checking for new faces, finding out where they lived, searching their rooms and so on. In fact, he wouldn’t put it past the Quartermasters to have already made such a list, and to have begun their investigations already. 

Perhaps later, after lunch or before dinner, he would ask the others if they also thought what he thought: that this was a memory test! 

&*&*

“Maxim,” Filon asked the moment they were all seated for lunch. “Are you well?”

“Yes,” everyone sang to him. “You said ‘no’.”

Maxim stared at them, impressed. He thought they were all supposed to be running around Ivanhof, checking thing, instead of practicing phrases to sing. 

“Well?” Artyom insisted. Clearly those two had not forgiven him for making them reveal their secret-that-everyone-knew. 

He looked at them. “He’s not my type.” He was bigger than him. Heavier too. 

Sila looked at him with understanding. 

Roman nodded. “Maybe you want to settle down.”

“I? No.”

Valery laughed. “I think you’re tired of blond men. There are too many blonds in this palace. We need to find you someone dark-haired.”

“And maybe a little dark-skinned too?” 

“Like Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur?” Leonid asked him, smiling. “His skin is not pale at all, but has a light tan even in the winter.”

“No wonder Evgeni couldn’t forget him. He was different from everyone,” Roman said appreciatively. He turned towards Stepan and hugged him. “Different is wonderful.” Stepan nuzzled him. 

“How is Evgeni? And where is Evgeni?”

“And Carel too?”

“Yes, why didn’t the Major send them back home once he left for his mission at Ustvela?”

“What is that mission? The Captain has said so little about it.”

“The Captain will…” Valery started.

“No, you don’t get to speak,” Nikita told him. “Nor you, nor you,” he pointed at Sila and Maxim. “You know about the mission.” He sighed. “And I know you can’t share details, but…” He sighed again. “Have you noticed that the Captain has been living in his office ever since we arrived?” He looked down at his soup. “And we are having cold soup again.”

Peter the Tall made a face. “I’m really tired of cold soup,” he said, pushing his plate aside. 

“And I’m tired of not knowing how to help the Captain. He’s always there for us and now we can’t do anything,” Nikita complained. 

They fell quiet for a few moments. Maxim pushed his soup aside as well. Nikita was right. 

“Maybe, if we put together all the facts?” Roman asked them. “And all the other things.”

“Like?”

“Don’t you also think that he’s testing us? Or is it just me? Making us remember who was here six months ago and recognise those who came later. Isn’t this a memory test?”

They looked at each other. 

“Reviews are coming up soon.”

Roman groaned. “You’re right.”

“So, what do we know?” Nikita asked them. “About the mission, not the review.”

“That the Major went to see why Prince Anton was unwell,” Roman started. 

“And that someone there attacked Maxim for the sake of his brother,” Jan said.

Maxim kept his mouth shut, even though they all turned to look at him. 

Lev nodded. “And then Valery came back in such a hurry that he killed at least one horse.”

Valery looked distressed even then at what he’d done. Everyone knew that he really liked horses. They deserved better. On a couple of occasions he had mentioned that if his life were different, he would buy a big plot of land and keep old horses and donkeys, and let them graze and sleep all they wanted. They were magnificent beasts; they deserved to live happily until they went to join their own Honoured Ancestors. Maxim had thought it a marvelous idea! 

“And the Major continued to His Majesty’s camp, instead of returning here,” Bram told them.

“And now he’s back to Ustvela on a mission,” Kornei muttered darkly. He turned towards Valery. “Whatever you discovered there is Big and Important and….”

“Why did the Major go to see His Majesty there?” Stepan asked quietly. “His Majesty here is his Regent.”

“Yes, but His Majesty is His Majesty,” Roman said. “Even the Regent is not His Majesty.” 

“Do you think he wants to start a war?” Peter the Short asked them. “Only His Majesty there can do that.”

Jan shook his head. “The Captain hates wars, so I can’t imagine the Major would like them, nor that he would go to His Majesty for permission to start one.”

“Maybe he wants to stop a war,” Stepan whispered. 

“Maybe I should tell you about my type of man,” Maxim said, forcing himself to grin.

“You want to change the subject,” Epifan grinned. “Master Blacksmith, you have set us on the right track.”

Even the tips of Stepan’s ears got red, while Valery and Sila glared at him. 

Leonid bowed to Stepan. “We are on the right track, indeed. Look at Valery and Sila being mad ay Maxim!”

Maxim grinned. It wasn’t going to be his fault when the others figured out what was going on. 

Sidor stood up, looking pale and shocked. “Maxim’s attacker at Ustvela. The coachman who looked like Maxim’s attacker.”

“Eh?”

“How do you stop a war before it happens? Or how do you start it?”

“Eh?”

Sidor stared at them frustrated. “I almost have it, but I don’t. I know I do.” He sat down, huffing. 

The servants started removing their untouched plates of soup. 

Pavel raised his hand. “I think I got it! What if the two attacks are not unrelated? Or…” He shook his head. 

Maxim grinned. This was better than them speculating about whether he wanted to settle down or not. He cut a piece of rye bread and started chewing it slowly, as Pavel and Sidor looked puzzled. 

From the door came the sound of clapping. “Solve this one by the time lunch time is over, Gentlemen, and you will all get promoted at the upcoming Review,” the Captain grinned at them. “You know where to find me when you have the answer.” He nodded at them before leaving, his four dogs wagging their tails as if they too shared his amusement. 

“He’s as sneaky as His Grace,” Filon muttered.

“And he makes everything into a test,” Roman sighed, shaking his head and looking amused. 

“So.” Leonid stood on his chair, looking even taller than usual. “We have,” he checked his watch, “another forty minutes, brothers.”

“And three handicaps,” Peter the Tall laughed, pointing at Maxim with one hand and Valery and Sila who were sitting next to each other. “Brothers, you should leave us. It’s not fair to us if you are here.”

“Yes, we have to pass the test on our own,” Nikita grinned. “Out!”

Maxim grinned as he stood up. “Let’s go back to the kitchens, brothers,” he told Valery and Sila. “I actually like cold soup, and I didn’t eat mine today.”

“Me neither,” Valery agreed. “See you later, Brothers.”

“Good luck!”

&*&*

One of the dogs bounded up and came to sniff him. Roman grinned and scratched the top of its head. Tanovik dogs really had the softest fur. He was so glad he had won at lots to be part of the team that would tell the Captain what they thought. 

The Captain smiled at him. 

“That is what we think,” Peter the Short finished. “Did we figure out what the mission is?”

The Captain looked at them. “What do you think?”

They all shared a look and nodded. 

“I think, we did,” Roman said.

“You look pleased,” Bram added. 

“It could be because I have dogs,” he grinned. He really did, two lying beside him, and one close to the window. And he had kittens too, two sleeping on his lap, one playing with his sleeve, and one looking at them from his shoulder. 

Roman snorted, still petting the fourth dog. He turned towards Peter the Short and they all gathered around him. “He looks more excited when he runs with the dogs,” Lev whispered. 

“Yes, he almost looks proud of us.” They turned and studied him. “Yes,” they nodded once they looked at each other again. 

“No, it is not because of the dogs, it is because we figured out the mission,” Peter the Short grinned. “Did we? Sir?”

The Captain stared at them, still smiling. “You will have to wait until the Review to find out.”

They groaned. 

“What did you expect to hear? It is a classified mission,” the Captain told them. “But well done for team effort and coming up with a very plausible idea within forty minutes based on what you know. You should be proud of yourselves.”

“We have one more question first, Sir,” Lev said. 

“Yes?”

“If we managed to figure out the mission, will everyone get a recommendation for promotion? Even Vanya and the others?”

“Yes, everyone means everyone.”

“Thank you, Sir. And…”

“Yes, Lev?”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

“No, but thank you.”

They saluted him and started leaving his office. 

Roman continued scratching the dog. Its fur was so soft. 

“You can take the dog for a walk, Roman,” the Captain told him, throwing him the dog’s leash. “Our next run is scheduled for four, so I would appreciate it if Dog Three were back by then.”

Roman saluted him after grabbing the leash. He fastened it on the collar. Dog Three! Oh, he really hoped the Major returned soon. The dog deserved a real name. And the Captain had put running with the dogs in his schedule? He couldn’t decide if that was funny or sad. “Come, Dog Three,” he said, and couldn’t help laughing. “Dog Three, Captain? Really?”

He looked embarrassed. 

“It’s a good temporary name,” he reassured him. “I hope the Major is back soon,” he told him. 

“I hope so too, Roman.” 

He nodded and left the office, smiling. How would Stepan feel about them getting a dog? Perhaps they could start thinking about it, and have one when they had their new house. If Stepan’s Mother allowed it.

Had they thought of extra rooms for their Mamas in their plans? He had to check when he was back at the Training Hall. 

He grinned suddenly. If Stepan’s Mother allowed it and they could get a dog, they should get a dog that could be on its own for long. Oleg and the Captain’s dogs were sweet and beautiful, but they needed to be with humans a lot! Clearly they had been bred to be companions, either of people living at the harsh climates of the North, or spoiled aristocrats who didn’t need to work. 

Sila waved at him and ran towards him. 

“Did you hear the news?” Roman asked him.

“Yes, that the Captain refused to confirm your idea, and that we will find out in two months.” Sila gave him a sympathetic look. 

“It was worth trying,” Roman grinned. “It would have been good not having to worry about being tested all the time, but that’s life.”

Sila nodded. “Where are you going?”

“To check the almond tree.”

“May I join you?”

“If you want. Shouldn’t you be checking as well?”

“It can wait.” Sila reached down and patted the dog. “Still nameless?”

“Oh, no, not anymore. Sila, meet Dog Three.”

Sila stopped and stared at Roman for a moment before glancing at the dog. “Dog Three?” he asked, still shocked, catching up with Roman. 

“Dog Three,” he nodded, grinning.

“The Major must come back soon, before they learn that as their name!”

“Exactly.”

“I suppose it could have been worse,” Sila said. “He could have named them all Dog.”

“Or…” Roman couldn’t think of something stranger. 

“Let’s see…”

Before they knew it, they were in front of the building where Efimov lived. Trying to come up with more ridiculous names for the dogs had made the time pass so quickly. 

“May I still join you, brother?” Sila asked him in front of the entrance.

“Why not? Efimov’s shift finishes at four, but two pairs of eyes will see everything faster and better.”

Grinning, they walked inside the building. It was where the free servants of Ivanhof lived and it was a miserably dark looking edifice on the outside, and even more darkly miserable on the inside.

“We are so lucky, brother,” Sila whispered. “Our barracks are big, with large windows, and we even have our own rooms, unlike the common soldiers.”

“Yes. Even though the servants are paid well, they still have to live in this place. It is very … melancholic.”

They peeked inside the dining room of the servants. It was clean but so dark. 

“Let’s go see where the almonds grow,” Sila told him, casting another glance back at the large table with the empty chairs. 

Roman nodded. He suddenly grinned as they started walking up. “It really looks like a place where one of those strange Quhjani stories could take place.”

“Yes, one with spirits,” Sila agreed, smiling.

“Or dead that don’t stay dead.” Roman shivered. How lucky he was that Stepan had never told him any such tales! He wondered if Stepan’s Mother would share any. 

“Stories should be about useful things.” 

“Or love,” Roman grinned. “Ah, Evgeni! I miss him, Sila. I miss my cousin too, but I know he will be here next week. But when will Evgeni be back? Or Carel?”

Sila looked away from him.

“I’m not asking you to tell me. I am just saying,” Roman protested a little. 

“It will be nice when we are all together again,” Sila agreed.

“And then we can have our thank-you party for the Captain. You are certain he hasn’t found out what we are planning?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Hm, second floor, third door on the left, he has the last bed on the right side of the room, facing the windows, and the last chest,” Roman repeated what he’d been told by the Housekeepers. 

Nodding, Sila followed him inside. The room was long, with a row of beds and chests along each long wall. They hurried to the right side, and checked the bed specified.

“I’ll check the chest,” Sila said as he took out a small set of tools and started fiddling with the lock. 

Roman fell on the floor and looked under the bed. 

Dog Three left his side. 

Worried that it might get out, Roman crawled out. “Dog Three,” he called it, making Sila laugh.

Dog Three ignored him as it continued sniffing around the room.

Sighing, Roman started cutting the mattress open. Housekeepers would bring a new one by three, they had assured him, so he would have plenty of time to check.

Nothing seemed to be there, but there was something odd. He frowned. “Sila?”

Sila didn’t look up from where he was kneeling, and checking the contents of the chest carefully. “Yes?”

“Don’t you think Dog Three is acting strange?”

“What do you mean?” He turned around. “He’s just sniffing around.”

“He’s avoiding the area near the washing basin.”

Curious, they both went near the washing basin. Dog Three refused to go anywhere near it. They opened the cupboard hiding the drain under the basin, but there was nothing there. Roman started touching the floor carefully.

“Here,” Sila cried. “A hole.” He took out his dagger and put the tip of blade into the hole. Moments later, that part of the wooden plank that covered the floor was up in the air, suspended by Sila’s blade. 

They looked inside, at the small bag that was hidden underneath. 

Dog Three whined and moved further away. 

“What a good dog,” Sila whispered, smiling as he carefully lifted it out. 

“Indeed.” Roman put the plank back carefully. “We have to go return Dog Three to the Captain. And show him what we found.”

Sila nodded. He put the bag inside his satchel and closed the cupboard, before hurrying to lock the chest again. 

Roman grabbed Dog Three’s leash. “Come on, you,” he said as they started running out of the building. “Do you think the Captain will mind if Dog Three gets more exercise than the other dogs?”

Sila laughed as he followed him all the way to their Barracks. 

The Captain stared at Dog Three the moment they finished telling him how they had found it. “What a good boy,” he said, giving it a treat. “Imagine what we could do if we trained dogs to sniff… Hm…” The Captain’s eyes shone. “I wonder….”

“Sir?” Roman cut him off before he could start thinking seriously about how to train dogs to sniff. What a strange idea! That’s what dogs did; they sniffed!

“Oh, yes.” He opened the bag carefully and removed several small pouches. He opened one of them and took out a small bottle with a brown powder. He put it back inside, and everything back in the satchel. “Take these to the Apothecaries, and ask them to identify them and get back to me.”

Roman nodded.

“And Efimov?” Sila asked.

The Captain stared at them. “You don’t know he’s the one who hid that bag. It is likely that he is, I agree.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Arrest him first, and try to take him alive, please. Once you have secured him and isolated him in our own interrogation room, please tell Sergei and the others to examine everyone else who is sharing that dormitory. I would like to examine Efimov myself, or whoever is the suspect for hiding that bag.”

“Does that mean we cannot be part of the investigation, Sir?”

“Not before your review, Sila, I am sorry.”

Sila groaned, disappointed. 

“Yes, Sir,” Roman said, also feeling disappointed. The Captain’s interviews were something you had to see to believe. They were strange, but effective. 

“Excellent work, Gentlemen. Thank you. And excellent work, Dog Three. Here’s another treat.”

Roman grinned despite himself. The Captain really looked so happy when he was with his dogs. They saluted him and left. 

“He’s not leaving the Barracks before the Major is back, is he?” Sila sighed. 

“It looks like it.”

Sila glanced back, at the closed door. “Let’s hope this is resolved soon. Poor Dogs One to Four deserve proper names!”

&*&*

“Irina?” Katya’s voice sounded from inside the house. 

“In the garden,” she shouted as she got up and hurried to meet her friend. “Katya!”

Katya ran to her and they embraced. They bowed at each other next, grinning. “My Lady.”

“My Lady!”

“Our lesson is not until four, what brings you here?”

“My Mother and I just made biscuits, so I brought some for you. Here.”

“Thank you.” Katya’s mother made such delicious sweets! 

They sat down under the trees and shared them. Katya suddenly took out a notebook. “Irina, can you help me with my homework a little? How I wish Major Grigori was here. He always helped me when I needed help.”

“Of course.” 

She had barely looked at the first problem in Katya’s notebook, when there was a shout from inside the house. “Letters.”

She nodded. “It’s probably Eli. You learned that someone tried to kill him?” When Eli had written that to her, she had been so frightened!

“Yes. And that one of his Guards saved his life, but got injured.”

“I also heard that.” Elik hadn’t written about that. He’d just written that he was well. He probably didn’t want her to worry. As if something like that could be kept a secret. “I wrote to Eli to tell me who it was, because all the Guards were so nice! I don’t like the idea of any of them getting hurt.”

“That’s their duty, though, isn’t it? To guard your brother?”

“Yes, but… it is still so sad that one of them got hurt doing his duty.”

They looked at each other.

“Let’s not write any sad stories, Katya! I don’t want to think of anyone suffering.”

“What if we write sad stories with happy endings? I have been thinking….”

“Yes?” She smiled at Maria who approached them, grinning and bringing a tray with tea, as well as the letters. 

“We have too many sad stories that end unhappily. It has to change. Like, the story of why you must promise to come back as you are. Why does he kill his wife? Why can’t it end with someone, maybe a handsome Captain, saving her, and telling her that by saving her, he saved a good and noble woman of the Mother Land?”

Irina frowned. 

“Or, maybe, she finds her husband’s firearm and shoots him, again and again, until the sun comes up and the body turns into dust?”

What an imagination! Irina was impressed. 

“That said,” she smiled, “I don’t want sad stories about Major Grigori of Major Vasily. I want to think that Major Vasily is now at home, with all their kittens and their dogs, and is waiting for Major Grigori to come back from his mission. As he is!”

“Yes, I would like to think that too. Thank you, Maria.”

“Katya, will you stay for dinner after your lesson?”

Katya grinned. “Yes, My Mother said I could.”

“Wonderful. I will leave you alone, then, until it’s time for your lesson.”

“Thank you, Maria,” they both said. 

She looked at the letters. There was one from Eli, and one from Olga! Olga! How she missed her. She opened that quickly. “It’s from Olga,” she whispered as she read it quickly. “She says I can illustrate her story!”

“How lovely!”

“And…” she showed Katya a long document. “She wrote the story of what happens next after the Costume Ball! And she says I can draw that too, if I want!”

Katya poured them both some tea. “What are you waiting for? Read it to me!”

“Of course!” She cleared her voice, and started reading. “‘Major Grigori looked up. The sun was still red and rising, and the sky was a gentle blue. It was the colour of the eyes of the handsome man with whom he’d danced the night before, he thought. Oh, would he see him again? That dashing, charming stranger who fit into his arms like the missing piece of a puzzle?’”

&*&*

Elik received the note and grinned even before he opened it. “My Lady?” he turned to Lady Ekaterina. “Is Vasily Vasya snubbing Us?”

The Ladies turned towards them. 

“You should read it first before saying that,” she told him. 

“Indeed.” He unfolded it and read it out loud. “Your Majesty, Matters of State Security regretfully keep me away from Court tonight as well. Please, accept my apologies’.” He smiled. “What do you say now?”

“That Matters of State Security keep him away,” she told him pleasantly. 

“Small loss,” Duchess Theissen sneered. “Lesnev is a most strange man. The Court is better without him in it.”

Duchess Larionova made a face. “The less said about him, the better,” she whispered, looking annoyed. 

“Yes, he really has the weirdest ideas,” Countess Naryniskina, who was sitting next to her, said. 

Duchess Okdranova nodded slowly. “That’s all my Husband talks about these days. His weird ideas. One would think he was in love with him,” she told them in a low, scandalised tone. 

Elik frowned. Duke Okdranov? In love with Vasya? He glanced at Lady Ekaterina. 

_Lesnev is not well-liked among certain Ladies,_ she wrote at the edge of her book. 

_I can see that._ If he could, he would tell them all that his brother was the best brother in the world, but Vasya had forbidden him to speak of it before His Honoured Ancestors accepted him, and he’d sworn everyone who had been at the Shrine that day to secrecy. How frustrating Vasya could be! 

Duchess Andrejevna smiled. “I doubt that. Everyone knows that Lesnev is most devoted to his husband. Even if Your Husband were in love with him, his courtship would fail.”

Duchess Okdranova glared at her for a moment. “Oh, I wish he were in love with him. No, my Husband wants Lesnev to work for him. You know what that means? He will not stop talking work. Ever. A Husband does not bother his Wife with news of his mistress or his concubines, but you know how men talk about their work when they are happy with it. Or when they are not.”

 _I didn’t know that,_ Lady Ekaterina wrote. _Mark neither_

 _I had no idea either,_ he wrote under her note. This discussion was not one he liked much. “Ladies,” he said and they stopped talking among themselves, “This morning, I had a most marvellous idea. What if we had a dog show and contest next week?”

“Dogs only?” Princess Marina asked, her expression full of disapproval. Despite what Princesses Olga and Xenia had said, he knew that the wives of Nikolaj’s second cousins hated him, and Marina’s expression only confirmed his opinion. 

“Cats are more difficult to train,” he said politely, “but we could have a day dedicated to them.”

“I keep falcons, Sire,” she told him, looking even more affronted. 

“Then… It will be a day of showing off our animals,” he petted Oleg, “but one cannot judge a falcon the same way as one judges a dog.”

“And one cannot judge a small dog the same way as one judges a big one,” Duchess Okdranova complained.

“You are right. But I really want to see what animals you keep. I was told you keep Bosilik Shepherds?” he asked Duchess Andrejevna.

“These are my husband’s,” she sneered. “I keep Bosilik pointers.”

Elik stared at them. They were still determined to make his life difficult, weren’t they? “If we weren’t at war, we would have had theatre, and concerts, and opera all week, instead of trying to arrange dog shows,” he sighed.

Princess Olga dropped her cup. “Theatre?” she whispered, shocked. 

“Concerts?” Duchess Theissen asked just as quietly, and just as stunned. 

“Opera?” Princess Marina gasped.

He nodded.

“Your Majesty,” Lady Ekaterina asked him, full of wide-eyed curiosity, “What other plans did you have for us?”

“I would have all these, and more dances, and costume balls. But now, we can’t have anything because it is not right. I feel guilty that we have the Guards sing and dance for us in the evenings, since that too is frivolous when we are at war, but the court would be even more boring if all we did was play cards.” He stared at them. 

“Sire, you promise that we will have theatre again?” Princess Olga asked him.

He nodded.

“And opera?” Princess Marina asked. “I have heard so much about it.”

He nodded again. “I like opera,” he told her. “And I love the theatre.”

The Ladies shared a look. 

“Maybe we could start from showing off our pets,” Duchess Andrejevna said, “since it is not proper to have theatre and opera and concerts during war. I will also bring my husband’s dogs, so you can see them.”

“Perhaps we could go hunting with falcons at our estates in two weeks, if it pleases you,” Princess Marina told him.

Elik looked at them. Vasya was so right! If he had just sulked quietly as he would have done the year before, they would have continued thinking him who knew what. Yet now, that he had opened up to them, and shared his disappointment at not being able to go ahead with his plans, they liked his ideas. They were being nice to him! 

“And then hunting with dogs?” Duchess Andrejevna asked with a pretty smile. 

“We could go hunting with pointers one week, and with beagles the next?” Duchess Theissen grinned. “Unlike most of my family, I like small dogs. They are cuter.”

Elik agreed. “Yes, they are.” He really hoped Vasya wouldn’t mind that he had agreed. He really wanted to go hunting with the Ladies! 

His sister was so right too! He just needed to talk music and dogs to his court, as he had done at Sorain, and everything would be fine! 

“And….You will still let the Guards entertain us in the evening, won’t you, Sire?” Princess Xenia asked. 

“Of course. I asked Maxim, and he said that, if the weather is nice, several of his friends would enjoy keeping him company in the garden from tomorrow.”

“Several of his friends?” Princess Olga gasped. 

He nodded. “And in the same clothes as Maxim. Or rather, without clothes, as Maxim.” Bosilik men were so weird, not caring one bit if they were naked or not. How could the Ladies think Vasya weird, when they were used to naked men? He could not understand. 

The Ladies stared at him. “Hurrah,” Lady Ekaterina shouted suddenly, making him flinch at the noise. 

“Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah,” they all shouted. 

How he hoped this would be the way to fix his broken court! He stood up. "Dinner, My Ladies?"

&*&*

Grigori looked at the cubs. Carel and Evgeni were sharing the other bed, sleeping on their sides, their backs touching. He glanced at Michal. He was curled on the cot next to his bed, sleeping facing the  
wall. “Did they stay here all this time?” he asked Prokop in a whisper. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“You should have told them to go to the room allocated to us.”

“We tried.” Prokop smiled. “They refused to move, and told us they would tell their Captain that we made them leave.”

Grigori chuckled. Prokop had looked scared for a moment. How had Vasya acquired the reputation of being frightening among his men, he would never understand. 

His men. How loyal they were. 

He froze. How loyal they were, indeed. If his Huntsmen here had stirred up this much trouble here, what would his men do back at the Capital when they found out? He wouldn’t put it past them to mutiny. “I should write to him,” he said. Vasya would know what to do. 

Seconds later, Prokop handed him a piece of paper and pencil.

“What day is it?”

“Twenty-fourth.”

It was the twenty-fourth already?

_24th FF_

_Hey,_

_How are you? I am well again._

_Your wolf cubs assured me that they have kept you informed of everything, so I will not repeat anything._

_I was ill with fever for a few days, but it’s now passed, no doubt thanks to Quhjani sacred soup and the doctors’ bark tea. I am still feeling weak and tired, but my head is clear and it’s only my body that hurts now. You would have thought that after sleeping for days, I would not feel so tired._

_Whatever you have heard… it’s all over now – I’m well, and I will be with you soon. I want you to forgive His Majesty. I know you can do it._

_We still owe him._

_But maybe we can.... Oh, I forgot – he’s letting Sasha come back. So, we still owe him…_

_Yours always and forever,_

_Your Grisha_

_p.s. Your wolf cubs behaved very well – I might steal them from you when I am back_


	67. Chapter 67

25th 

Vasily smiled at the Guards at the anteroom of their interrogation room at the basement of their Barracks. “Hello. Is our new friend settled in?”

Stefan nodded. 

“Thank you for your assistance tonight, Gentlemen. Has he said anything?”

“No, Sir,” Kyrill answered.

“He pretends he doesn’t understand Bosilik,” Stefan said, “and when I ask him in Ustvelan, he remains silent.”

“Ah, wonderful.” Was he one of those who thought themselves heroes to their land? He smiled. “Then, shall we?”

With a nod, they followed him into the room. Efimov, or whatever his name really was, was tied at a chair in the middle of the room. His face was youthful, and his hair was a mixture of ash blonde and grey. The hairs that had started appearing on his face, though, were mostly white, so he was probably older than he looked. The moment he opened the door, Efimov turned towards them and looked at them calmly. 

He smiled as Kyrill sat behind the desk at the side and dipped his quill in ink.

He checked his watch. “One a.m., 25th of Fire Month. Session conducted by V. L. Attending the session, S. P. and K. V. (secretary).” He sat down at facing the man, and put his closed folder on the desk between them. “Is Efimov your name?” 

The man continued to stare as if he couldn’t understand him. 

“Have they brought you any food? Or water? Stefan, can you please bring something for Mr Efimov to eat, and water? Thank you.”

As hard as he tried pretending he couldn’t understand them, Efimov raised both eyebrows at his words. 

Vasily smiled at him. “Mr Efimov, we both know that you can understand me. I am Vasily Lesnev, and I would like to call you by your name, if you don’t mind.”

Efimov stared at him. 

He continued. “I am Head of His Majesty’s Security team. It is my job to protect him and keep him safe. Mr Efimov…”

Stefan came in at that moment with a plate of bread, cheese, and cold cuts of meats, as well as a jug of water and a cup. “Mr Efimov can feed himself,” Vasily told him as he poured water for the man. “Please, untie him.”

Efimov’s frown deepened. 

“Please, go ahead,” he said as soon as Stefan did. “I swear it is not poisoned,” he grinned. 

Efimov looked up for a second, and his hand froze over the slice of bread he was about to eat. 

Vasily pretended not to notice. “Mr Efimov,” he said as the man started eating, “We have been conducting regular investigations as part of our duties, and during these, we have discovered certain substances in your dormitory.” He opened the folder and let him see the report of the Apothecaries. “Mr Efimov, we have reasons to believe they belong to you.” Especially after the way the man had reacted to his comment about poisons. “I cannot force you to answer.”

The man snorted.

Yes, he could torture him, but torture was his last option, not his first. “In my experience, people lie under duress, and I don’t want lies. I want to know the truth. So, would you tell me that, Mr Efimov? Would you tell me the truth?”

Efimov stared at him. 

He stared back. He had time. He smiled when he saw that Efimov fhad finished eating. “Stefan, could we have some tea, please? Or would you rather have coffee?”

“What are you doing?” Efimov asked him. His Bosilik was flawless, his accent that of the Capital. 

“Offering you something to drink.”

“Why?”

“Why not? We want the same thing, Mr Efimov. The truth. You want to share it, and I want to know it.”

“I won’t tell you anything. I don’t know anything about those things,” he glanced at the folder, “or why you are holding me. I am a sauce maker.”

“Why didn’t you say so from the start, then?”

Efimov’s eyes narrowed. “If you believe me, let me go,” he said. 

“I never said that. I asked you, why didn’t you say so from the start? If you were just a sauce maker, you would have told that to my Quartermasters. Mr Efimov, I can figure out what you wanted to do here based on the evidence I have already, but not the truth behind your plans. That is what I want.”

“If you can figure out what I wanted to do, then it makes no difference to you whether I talk, does it?”

“If I can figure it out, then it doesn’t matter if you talk to me, does it?” He smiled. “But it would make a difference for me to know your truth. We are both loyal to our countries. My truth is that I will do anything to protect my Lord, because I believe in him. Not because he is my king, but because he is inspiring. What is your truth? What makes you loyal to your king? And would you prefer coffee or tea?” 

Efimov took a deep breath. “Coffee, please.”

“Stefan, coffee for Mr Efimov and tea for me, please. Thank you.”

“Why did you call your king ‘inspiring’?” Efimov asked him with a frown. 

“Because he wants a better world. He wants to abolish slavery, and to make all of us in the Empire equal and proud to belong here. I want that. A world without slaves, a world where everyone has the same rights and responsibilities, and where men and women are equal.”

Efimov’s mouth fell open. “Men and women equal?”

“Yes.”

Efimov shook his head. “You are mad.”

“It has been said of me, yes,” Vasily smiled.

“I am loyal to my king because he is my king.”

“And you do what he orders you to do?”

“Yes. Don’t you?”

“I do, but if my king ordered me to do something against my conscience, I would not obey.”

“Even if he killed you for disobeying?”

“Even then. So, what is your truth?”

The man rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “My truth is simple. I was ordered to kill your king, and I failed. Go ahead and kill me now.”

“Why?”

Efimov’s expression of surprise was greater than when he’d said that he wanted equality between men and women. “Why?”

“Yes, why would I do that?”

“Because I came here to assassinate your king, and you caught me.”

“Yes, but I still don’t know if you work alone or if you have accomplices. I want the truth, Mr Efimov. All of it.”

Efimov stared and stared. 

“Just tell him everything you know,” Kyrill suddenly said tiredly. “Sorry, Sir.”

“Oh, no, I apologize. Would you like some coffee? Why don’t you go get some?”

Kyrill gave him a panicked look. “Sir….”

“Ask for some coffee, Kyrill.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The moment they were alone in the room, Efimov huffed. “Does the truth matter that much? You already know what I wanted to do.”

“It does, because there is no truth. There is my truth, and your truth.” He tapped the tabletop. “Sometimes, I think that even this is not true, despite what my senses tell me. What do you think?”

“I work alone,” Efimov said instead of replying just as Kyrill returned, heard him and hurried back to the desk to record his answer. 

“Really? How?”

Efimov stared at him. “I work alone,” he insisted on his lie. 

“I find that hard to believe,” he explained. “I wouldn’t set off on such a mission without contacts, and people who would be able to support me, and help create a new identity for me. You really did everything yourself? Mr Efimov, why don’t you start from the beginning and help me understand? From when you received your orders.” He smiled at the man and tilted his head a little to the left. 

Efimov tilted his head to the right as he studied him. 

Efimov was being an idiot. He wanted to talk! He could see it! At this rate, he’d have to bring out the cake before he got to the truth that mattered: whether Efimov would be willing to work for him or not. 

&*&*

Vasily checked his watch. “Six a.m. 25th of Fire Month. Session concluded in the presence of V.L., S.P. and K. V. (secretary). Thank you for helping me understand, Mr Sretenski. I hope you can get some rest before resuming your duties at the kitchen. Thank you, and have a good day.”

Sretenski nodded. “I can’t believe our King wants to drag us into war. A soldier’s job is to fight, but my wife… she can’t understand that. All she will think is that our boys are in danger. And…” he frowned. “I would also prefer our boys safe at home,” he said quietly, and as if ashamed that he admitted that. 

He nodded. “I have no children, but I have my men, and I share the sentiment.” He gave his hand to Sretenski, who took it. “Thank you,” he said as they shook hands. 

With a nod, Sretenski left the room, accompanied by Kyrill.

“Have him monitored all the time,” he told Stefan. “He sounds sincere and I want to believe that he finally understands that we are on the same side, and that he is willing to help us maintain peace, but…” He shrugged. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“And for now, investigate and keep a very close eye on everyone he has mentioned.”

“Yes, Sir. Do you think we should let him try to ‘kill’ the Young Lord? If everyone thought he is dying, then further attacks on His person would stop.”

“I agree, but… when would such an action make sense? In his last report to Zbutov, his contact here, sent a day ago, he said he was still struggling to find an opportunity to take the poison unobserved and put it in a sauce. Let’s give him a couple more days. Then, we will officially say that His Majesty is unwell, let the rumour circulate of an assassination attempt, and that he is dying, allow them to send a message to Ustvela….” He rubbed his eyes. “Stefan, what do you think?”

“He could have gotten lucky, and was able to slip the poison today…”

“But, in his place, what would you do? You know what I would do? I would write to my contact, say that I was interrogated but managed to fool the idiots, and that I was under observation, but had everything under control. My contact would then either trust me to do my job, or he would find another to do it, because he would know I was compromised. I would rather wait a couple of days and see what happens.”

Stefan smiled. “Did you ever kick hornets’ nests out of curiosity when you were little, Sir?”

“No,” he smiled. “I would go exploring out of curiosity. Ask the others. if you all think that it is best to let him ‘poison’ His Majesty today, we can…”

Sergei knocked on the open door. “Sir? The traitor…”

“His name is Sretenski, and he is a loyal servant of his country,” he said.

Sergei and Stefan shook their heads. “Well, whatever he is, he just wrote this for his contact at the capital, and asks that we allow him to send it. He says it’s a request for the plan to go ahead next week.”

He grinned. “Can you read it out for us, Sergei? Thank you.”

“Yes, Sir. ‘Dear Cousin, things here are getting interesting! They are scared so much after the attempt on His Majesty’s life that they have started questioning everyone, including us, lowly kitchen staff. I was also called in for questioning: they asked me my name, address, and past employment. As you know, I was hoping to see you this week, but considering everything, I think I will come see you next week. Your dear cousin, A.”

“Let’s hope that he means what he said he meant,” Stefan grinned.

“Indeed, Gentlemen. Sergei, let him send it. And then,” he checked his watch. “I have a meeting at eight. If you could let me sleep until seven, I would be most grateful. Thank you.”

Grinning, they left him alone in the interrogation room. He put his arms on the table, let his head rest there, and closed his eyes. 

&*&*

Nikolaj finished his coffee. “I realised something,” he told Count Bitoulin. 

He looked at him calmly. “Yes, Sire?”

“I made a mistake.” Count Bitoulin’s slight huff and smile made him realise that the man was about to ask ‘just one?’ He grinned. “More than one. I am talking about my latest one.”

“Yes?”

“I asked Vasya to come here, while I told Grisha to go to Vasya. Wouldn’t it be quicker if I wrote to Grisha and asked him to form the team here? That way, Vasya would find him here, and then, they can go home together.” That was a good plan, wasn’t it?

“Sire, we do not know if Grisha is well enough to travel yet. He is still unwell, even though his fever is not as high anymore. It is best to let him rest. You can ask Vasya to meet him at the hospital, after he forms the team.”

He huffed. “But it would be quicker if…”

“Sire, if Grisha falls ill again, it will not be quicker. And if you suggest this again, I will inform you that I am sick again. Together with whomever wants to be sick with me.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No, I am just saying that there is an illness around, and it is potentially dangerous. Sire, you promised to let him heal. If you ask him to come here, you will be breaking your promise not just to Grisha, but to his men too. Do you want to risk that?”

He sighed. “No.”

“Good.” Count Bitoulin stood up. “We are ready to march when you are.”

He groaned. He didn’t feel like he had got enough sleep the night before. How he hoped today was another day of no resistance. He didn’t feel like commanding troops to battle. 

&*&*

Maxim frowned. He was not surprised to see that he wasn’t the only one. “What are you doing here, Captain?” he asked as he entered the washing area of their communal baths. 

“What does it look like? Washing myself.”

He wasn’t the only one who looked at the Captain with concern either. “You should go home, Sir.”

“I will, I promise. Honestly,” he grinned, “I have run out of clothes. This is my last clean shirt and breeches,” he said pointing at the anteroom where they kept their clothes while they washed, “and you know how I hate wearing the same coat for more than two days in the summer.” He grimaced. “Even two days are too many in the summer, if I am honest, but manageable, if there is no other option.”

Maxim glanced at Nikita. “There are always other options,” Nikita told him. 

“I was busy.” 

Valery frowned. 

“At least your stitches look fine,” Osip said. 

“They do, don’t they?”

Encouraged, they stopped washing themselves and came close to the Captain and studied them. The wound did look smaller than what they had thought, and the skin around the stitches looked healthy again. 

“Told you it was just a big scratch. Dr Van den Berg said he will have them removed today or tomorrow. About time,” the Captain grinned. He threw his washing cloth in the hamper and nodded at them. “Gentlemen, I will see you later. I hope. Who knows when this meeting with end? Have a good day.”

Valery looked at Nikita. “You know, I think he will not leave the Barracks today either.”

Maxim and Nikita nodded. 

“Nikita, you are similar in built to the Captain. What if you lent him a clean shirt and breeches for tomorrow?” Osip asked. “Just in case.”

“But, what about the coat?”

“He’ll have to manage with the same coat for three days,” Maxim grinned. “But we all know that he can’t manage with the same shirt or trousers for the second day. What’s his rule for short trips? As many shirts and breeches as days of traveling, twice as many stockings and drawers, and half as many coats,” he laughed. 

“Remember at Sorain?” Nikita grinned. “It was so warm that I had to change shirts half-way through the day. I bet the Captain did the same.”

“Maybe we can tell Yusta to take all his dirty clothes and give them to Laundry,” Osip said. 

“Yes, why hasn’t Yusta done that already?”

“Perhaps Yusta is trying to get him to go home,” Maxim laughed. “He is sneaky like that.” 

Avros and Savin waved at them from the door. “Teams Two and Three are ready.”

“Team Four is ready,” Vadim shouted from the anteroom.

“Gentlemen, are we ready?” Maxim asked Team One. “Let’s go dazzle the Court with our jewels!”

&*&*

Duke Vladimirov stood up and looked out again. 

“Really, Pavel,” Duke Andrejevich told him. “Come back here.”

“But they are very distracting.”

Elik and the other members of the Counsil stood up and looked outside. Maxim was posing with the diamond dress again, and Master Dijkstra focused on him, while nineteen naked Guards were also there, allowing the Ladies and Gentlemen gathered there to paint or draw them. 

“I wonder if anyone is doing any actual drawing,” Mark smirked. 

“Sire, I have a question,” Duke Theissen asked him. 

“Yes, Mr. Treasurer?”

“It is true, soldiers are assigned to regiments because of looks, so that they will look impressive at parades, but you could have made an exception with your Special Guards. Why didn’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, as your Special Guards they could all look different. Alternatively, they could have been dark haired, so that You would look even more distinctive next to them.”

“Oh, that?” Elik laughed. “When His Majesty introduced me to their Captain, I thought that it would be so nice if they were all blond, like he is.”

Mark chuckled. 

“Mr. Secretary, what is today’s agenda? It is a nice day, perhaps we can work in the garden?”

“The dog show and contest, Sire.”

“Really?” He grinned. “Let us discuss that there. Unless you have any other business to discuss, Gentlemen?”

They shook their heads. 

Mark grinned. “I have locked Vas… Lesnev in a room with the other Heads of Security, and will not allow them out until they have sorted out their differences, so I will bring that under discussion, but not today.”

“Then, to the garden, Gentlemen! We should have the show in the garden, if the weather is good.”

“Or the Riding Hall, if the weather is not ideal,” Duke Andrejevich said. 

“Great idea,” Duke Vladimirov nodded.

“Perhaps we could divide the contest in separate sessions? One for small, one for medium, and one for large dogs?” He patted Oleg. “My Oleg could win best medium-sized dog on cuteness alone, but he’s also so obedient!”

“Sire, it wouldn’t be fair if Oleg competed,” Mark told him. “We will have to name him winner only because he is yours.”

He stopped and looked at them. “Gentlemen, my Oleg will either win fairly, or not at all. It is a contest, is it not?”

Mark and the others shared a look. 

“How right you are,” Mark smiled. 

“Good. Let us sit here,” he said, and immediately servants rushed to bring them chairs and a table so they could have tea, like everyone else. “Would you like to draw the models too?”

“Will you, Sire?”

“Why are you asking me? You should do as you wish.”

“His Majesty likes it when we all share in his entertainment,” Duke Theissen said.

“But you are sharing in my entertainment already. You are here, having tea with me while I am watching everyone have a good time.” He smiled. “I so want everyone to get along and be happy here.”

“Not everyone can get along with everyone,” Mark told him. 

“True, but everyone can be polite with everyone, can they not?” he asked them seriously. 

“Indeed,” Duke Vladimirov replied after sharing a look with the others. 

“Speaking of being polite and getting along, I asked Her Grace about my maids-of-honour, and she did not reply. Perhaps you can enlighten me?”

The Ministers turned their heads towards Mark. 

“You didn’t tell him?” Duke Andrejevich sighed.

“It was your job,” Duke Theissen hissed. 

“I don’t know anything,” Duke Vladiminov added. 

Everyone turned towards him. 

“Fine, yes, I know everything, but I will not be the one to speak.” He raised his hand and his secretary ran towards him. “I would like to draw the Guards. That one,” he pointed towards Nikita. “He looks… tasty,” he whispered.

“He only likes Ladies,” Elik told him quietly. “What about Valery?”

“No, last night he told me he was not interested.”

Elik frowned. Valery too? Like Maxim, Valery’s type was living and willing. Or, that was how it used to be. Did they want to settle down? “What about….” He gestured towards Savin. “He likes apples and oranges.”

“Sire,” Mark laughed, “you know as much about what they Guards like as their Captain.”

“I am very observant,” he said proudly. 

Lev snorted behind him. 

“I am,” he protested. “When it comes to others,” he muttered. “And I have observed,” he said, deciding that he had been distracted enough, “that I have no maids-of-honour anymore. Not that I mind; I am a man, I am happier with my pages, but…” He smiled. “I admit that they were fun to have around. They always laughed and whispered, and sounded like little birds. They reminded me of my sister.” Especially the younger ones. Ah, how had Irina grown up already?

“You tell him,” Duke Okdranov said, kicking Mark on the shin. 

Elik smiled again. Did they act like that in front of His Majesty, like school children trying to avoid a question from their teacher?

“After what happened with Lady Semyonova,” Mark told him, “We took the decision that it was better not to have maids-of-honour. Unlike your pages, who run errands for you, they didn’t really do much.”

“They entertained me," he muttered. "Chancellor, Gentlemen,” he said and his smile fell, “What are we to do about Lady Semyonova and the others? She is a child. I cannot have her punished so cruelly, as if she were an adult.”

“She was bribed and stole for you,” Duke Vladimirov told him. 

“Yes, and the people who bribed her should be punished, but Lady Anna is so young. Children should be shown leniency and taught better.”

They all stared at him for a few moments.

“That is as strange a thought as I would expect from Lesnev,” Duke Theissen said. 

Mark grinned. “It really is.”

He felt strangely pleased to be called as strange as Vasya. “Well, it is my thought, and I don’t care if it is strange. I would like to have her sentence commuted to exile.”

Duke Vladimirov frowned. “You will appear weak, Sire.” 

“I want to be kind and just. Children cannot be punished as if they were adults, because they are not as mature as adults. And Lady Anna,” he sighed, “she really is a child. She would always try to escape her duties and go play with her friends. How can I punish her?” He felt his eyes fill with tears, when he thought of her joyous, bright laughter when she did escape. 

Mark handed him his handkerchief and he wiped his eyes. 

The Ministers shared a look that he didn’t understand. 

“In order to not punish her as an adult,” Duke Vladimirov finally said, “You would need to reform the Penal code.”

That was not part of their Work! Would his husband mind? But he really couldn’t bear the thought of punishing Lady Anna as if she were…. He shuddered. “Then, We shall do it.”

“Sire,” Mark said, “When the meeting between the Heads of Security and Police is over, and their duties are clearly defined, then you will also have the official report on the incident of the Notes Most Vile and Treacherous, as well as on Ivanof’s attempted coup. Then, you will need to punish the culprits. I don’t’ think you can reform the code quickly enough to save Lady Anna her punishment.”

“Then I will commute her sentence,” he told him and the other Ministers. “I will. And what about the other culprits?”

The Ministers shared another look. 

Duke Vladimirov suddenly kicked Mark. 

“Tell him,” Duke Andrejevich hissed. 

Mark grimaced. “Everyone involved with Ivanof’s coup has been arrested, as well as Prince and Princess Nelidov and Count and Countess Romolov for their part in the Affair of the Notes Most Vile and Treacherous. Once we have the official results of the inquest, they will be sentenced. The Barianins and the Milkiutins, however, are still in their estates.”

“What do we do about them?” 

“For now? Nothing,” Mark told him. “They could rebel, and…”

“Having a rebellion inside Bosilke while His Majesty is fighting a war is not ideal,” Duke Okdranov told him. 

“But you could put it down, if it came to that, couldn’t you?” 

They looked at him. “Sire, you would force the Barianins and the Milkiutins into rebellion? Because that is what will happen if we try to arrest them.”

“Honestly?” He stared at them resolutely. “I would like to forgive them. Their words and malice can’t hurt me anymore, because I know myself.” As much as he could, but he knew that he was not what they claimed he was. 

“They did threaten to kill you,” Mark reminded him.

He snorted. “Yes. Maybe we should have a contest, or make a bet, who will kill me first. Francis or them.”

“Sire, that is bad luck,” Duke Andrejevich shouted. 

“Bad luck is doing nothing while they plot against Us,” he told them. “Only, I don’t know what we should do. What if We did forgive them? If how they perceive me is because of what they believe, then it makes no difference whether We punish them or not. But if it is because of what they think, then forgiving them would make them Our allies.”

Mark smiled at him happily for a moment, but then he sighed. “You need to punish one of them at least before forgiving them.”

“Do they know that?”

“They suspect it,” Duke Vladimirov answered him. 

He frowned. “What if we did the same as with Anton?”

“Excuse me?”

“Break into their castles and kidnap them. Not to free them, but to bring them here, and have them face justice for what they’ve done.”

“That is not right, Your Majesty. You cannot do that before they openly rebel.”

“I see.” 

“You could always send a regiment or two to support the messengers bearing the arrest warrant,” Duke Okdranov said. 

“That could be effective in intimidating them.”

What a mess. “What if we thought about tomorrow, after we heard the official results of the inquest?”

Everyone sighed with relief as Duke Andrejevich wrote it down.

“Let us think of something fun,” he smiled. “How should we judge our dogs? And we need to have a session for cats.”

Duke Vladimirov lifted his cat up gently, and the cat just stared at them curiously. “Zuzu would love that. Isn’t she so docile? And pretty?”

Now that the Duke held her up, Elik could see that Zuzu was more than big; she was massive! She was the biggest cat he had ever seen! Long-haired, orange and white with bright gold eyes, she was striking. And so docile! 

“Zuzu was a gift from the Ambassador of Storjord, and hails from the north of the country.” He put her down and started petting her. “Who’s my precious? You are!”

Elik smiled. 

Mark lifted his kitten up. It hissed and tried to escape. “Mine hails from the Barracks of the Reds, but he’s cute! And a fighter,” Mark laughed. “He scratched me.” He put the kitten back in his pocket. 

“Yes, we will definitely have a special session just for cats,” he grinned.

“We have lost the light,” Master Dijkstra shouted. He looked up from his canvas. “Is my work a source of amusement to you?”

Princess Xenia stood up, and showed him her drawing book. “Master, will you correct my drawing?”

“Mine too!”

“And mine!”

“It seems like we will have our own little academy of arts soon,” Elik smiled. He stood up and the nobles crying for attention fell quiet. “Master Dijkstra, We hope you can correct Our Most Noble Ladies and Gentlemen’s drawings of Our Most Excellent Guards. Thank you.” He sat down again. “Our Guards are truly most excellent, aren’t they?”

And they too seemed to be having fun, chatting among themselves as they posed. 

“I would like a drawing book too. Let’s see if I can make something other than stick figures.”

“I know what I will draw,” Mark grinned. 

Elik looked the Guards that were spread around the garden. Ah, Filon and Artyom. Of course!

&*&*

Barely had they been seated at the table, when Savik raised his hand. “Valery? Why did you say no to Vladimirov?”

“Why did you?”

“Because you did,” Savik told them simply.

“I said ‘no’ because Maxim had,” Valery said.

They all turned towards Maxim. He stared at them. What? 

“Why did you say ‘no’?” Peter the Tall asked him. 

“I told you, he is not my type. He is big and broad and heavier than me. No, my type is….” He waited as they were served a plate of little pies and a salad as the first course. “Pies!” he shouted. 

“Praise be to Luck! The reign of the Cold Soup has ended,” Leonid said just as loudly. 

“Let’s wait until tomorrow to make sure,” Roman told them reasonably. 

Half of them, Maxim among them, glared at him. Why was Roman being so cautious? Could marriage had made him more mature? 

“What’s your type like?” Valery asked him. 

“He has to be thin, or gangly even. And he has to be around my age. Or not. I haven’t decided about that. No, the main thing is….” He cut one of the pies with his fork and grinned. Egg and jelly! 

“What?” Peter the Tall asked him impatiently.

“Well,” he said, stuffing half the pie in his mouth and chewing carefully the wonderful combination of salty jelly with the mild egg, “I want to have a partner who will not be like me but who will be like me.”

“What?” Sila and Valery laughed.

“He has to be dark-haired. Aren’t Their Majesties so striking, with one being dark-haired, and the other a red-haired? Or the Captain and his husband? The Major’s hair is so black it’s almost blue in the sun. Or even dark brown, like Evgeni’s husband.”

“Oh. And Vladimirov is blond too, in addition to being big,” Savik said. 

“Yes. I’ve been with big men before, but not anymore. Also, he has to be loyal to me, but a pervert too, because there is no way I am giving up on other men just because I have one all to myself,” he grinned.

“Oh, you want someone like the Chancellor then,” Leonid laughed. “Too bad he’s taken.”

“The Chancellor is taller than me,” he said. He wasn't sure if he wanted someone taller than him. 

“Only by an inch or two.”

“And he is taken,” Artyom muttered. 

Filon nodded. 

“Ooh, someone is getting serious?” Maxim smirked as he finished the first of the pies and cut open the second. Fish! They were being spoilt! 

“He is nice,” Artyom said, glaring at him.

“And adventurous,” Filon added. 

“Isn’t it unfair, though, that you expect him to be loyal to you, while you will be with others?” Roman asked him. 

Everyone turned to look at him expectantly. 

He ate the second pie as he thought about it. Yes, it was unfair. But he wasn’t that ready to settle down, even if he did finally have a type. “That’s why he must be a pervert. I wouldn’t mind if he fucked others.”

“Aren’t you the generous one?” Sila grinned.

“Hey, I am always generous! Didn’t I always introduce you to all my lovers, and shared them with you, if they didn’t mind to be shared? Even Alexandre. I was happy to let you have him, even though I had seen him first, and I had not slept with a royal prince before!”

Peter the Tall chocked on his water, and Jan had to hit him on the back for a few moments. 

“Your generosity is astounding, Brother,” Sila said, still grinning.

He nodded. “Of course, it is! And didn’t I show the Ladies all the marvels that were under His Majesty’s diamonds dress, instead of keeping them to myself? To the Ladies! How much more generous can a man be?”

Osip nodded. “Truly, Brother, you are right, and we were wrong. You are most generous.”

“So, who will join me tomorrow at the garden?”

Everyone raised their hands, except for Roman. “The Captain will not approve that we all go to the Garden when we should be working,” he said.

“Fine, we will draw lots to see which ones of us can go,” Osip grumbled. “Why are you such a killjoy today?”

“Because we still have to worry about our upcoming review.” He glanced at Stepan. “Stepan is in charge of his own workshop. I have to get promoted so I can be worthy of him.”

Stepan shook his head. “I don’t care about these things,” he whispered, blushing. “And you’d promised not to tell.”

“Why not?” He stood up. “Stepan is in charge of his own workshop. I am so proud of you!” he shouted, making Stepan get impossibly red. One had to see him to believe it. 

“Hurrah,” Peter the Tall shouted and they all started clapping, as Stepan hid his face behind his hands. 

Maxim grinned. Perhaps he ought to add that in the list of things he wanted his partner to be. Someone of whom he could be proud. 

So, it would have to be someone as slim as he was, or even more so. As tall as he was, or even more so. As dark-haired as His Majesty, since he doubted he could find easily someone raven-haired, or at least as dark-haired as Evgeni’s husband. As perverted as the Chancellor, as loyal as the Captain, as sweet-natured as Stepan, as fun as Valery, and of whom he could be proud. 

Fuck, he would never find anyone who would be all of these things. 

Maybe he had to lower his expectations. Or look around a little more.

&*&*

Mark gestured for the servants to leave them alone. Once they were completely alone in the Green drawing room, he poured some sweet wine at the little glasses. “Gentlemen,” he said as he started distributing them to the other Council members. 

“Thanks.” Pavel sighed. “I miss having wine at dinners.”

Vassily and Adam nodded. 

“I don’t think it’s that bad an idea to drink a little less,” Dima smiled. “I drink enough at home, or rather, Mavra makes me.”

They all raised their glasses. “To wives that drink as much as men,” Mark said. 

“It’s not funny,” Dima complained. “You try keeping up with a fucking Stanjisnki when they drink.” He suddenly looked panicked. 

“No, we won’t let slip that you said that,” Mark reassured him and the others nodded. 

He sat down heavily and sighed, still looking unhappy.

They all sat down. “We have thirty minutes till dinner time, Gentlemen,” Mark told them. “And I need to discuss something with you. Dima, do you want to continue sulking alone, or do you want to share with the rest of the class?”

Dima snorted. “Fucking Stanjisnkis,” he said. “Mavra says she speaks on behalf of the rest of the family when she says that she wants Lesnev out of court because he is a disgrace to the family.”

“Impossible. His Majesty won’t allow it.” Mark smiled sympathetically. “Or His other Majesty. He was more than happy to sign than decree making them both counts so that Vasya could return to court.” Nikolaj must have missed Vasya too, he thought. 

“How do I tell that to Mavra?” he whined. 

Mark sighed. “It would be nice if Sasha came back. Technically, he is Head of the Main branch, even though he is younger than Mavra and most of our cousins. If he accepted Lesnev, then they would have to shut up.”

“How is that going?” Pavel asked him. 

He shook his head. 

“If Lesnev actually showed up so His Majesty can have him sit at his right and show how favoured he is, they would shut up,” Dima groaned, “and Mavra would stop complaining. I love her, but once she starts nagging… she’s like our Valentinois tutor. Remember him?”

Mark and Vassily groaned. They had shared the same tutors as Nikolaj, since they were of the same age, and that wretched Mr. Dumas had been the worst tutor of them all, making them learn obscure texts by heart as if they were going to be presented at the court of King Ludovic I, and not stopping his lectures until he was satisfied they knew them all. 

“Where is Lesnev tonight?” Vassily asked. 

“Still at the meeting with the other heads of security.” At least the last two evenings Vasya had had a good excuse for not showing up, but the following evening, he would drag him to court himself. Vasya couldn’t be scared of their Stanjisnki cousins, could he? 

“Still?” Vassily asked, shocked. He checked his watch. “That started ten hours ago.”

“I know,” Mark told him. “I gave orders for dinner to be sent to them.” He grinned. “I intend to keep them locked there until they sort themselves out. Do you know what the alternative is?”

Pavel and Vassily shook their heads. Dima just stared at him, while Adam poured himself another glass of sweet wine. 

“That we decide on how their duties are divided.”

Pavel shivered. “No, I did not become a Minister so as to read all the details in every fucking document. That’s for younger people with more energy.”

“Yes, keep them locked up until they decide,” Vassily agreed.

“I will. I already told them that they are only allowed out to use the privy, and that for up to five minutes. I don’t want any of them trying to escape.” He started laughing. “I wouldn’t put it past them, you know. They are all trained at being sneaky.”

Adam spewed his wine as he guffawed. 

“You didn’t,” Vassily grinned. 

“I did.”

“You are a cruel person, Chancellor,” Adam told him.

“Thank you!”

“What did you want to discuss before we head for dinner?” Vassily asked him. 

“His Majesty.”

They all stood quiet and waited for him to speak.

“He has some strange ideas, but… Gentlemen, I think he is doing a good job. If Nikolaj tries to punish him or cast him out, we must support him.”

Adam nodded. “I admit that he has weird ideas, but… wouldn’t it be nice if we managed to slip into this new penal code a clause abolishing corporal punishment without inquest, trial and judgement, even for disciplinary reasons?” He shivered. “Having His Majesty threaten to whip us all the time that His Majesty was away, was not pleasant at all.”

“Yes, and to know that it is within his rights to do it as we are all His servants,” Pavel agreed. “It was most unpleasant.”

“His Majesty may take it to the extreme, though,” Vassily said. “He might abolish all corporal punishment, and then how will we punish our slaves?”

“Easy,” Mark said. “Free them, like we did, and you will find that free servants give you little cause for punishing them, as they have no cause for true grievances. Ever since we did it, we never had reason to punish anyone.”

“Not everyone can be as liberal as you, Mark,” Dima said. “Mavra would never agree to it.”

Fucking Stanjisnki, Mark thought. 

Adam shivered again. “I’d rather have corporal punishment abolished for all, than be afraid of when His Majesty will decide to have me whipped.”

Pavel and he nodded.

“Yes, I see your point,” Vassily said. “I agree. Let us try to slip that in the reformed law somewhere.”

Mark poured them all some wine. “To His Majesty, Gentlemen. And to a world without whips.” Except for light ones, used concensually! 

They all drank to that. 

&*&*

_25th of Fire Month,_

_My Love,_

_I am well, but things are still so confusing. I will explain, as soon as I can, and please do not believe whatever you hear without first listening to what I have to tell you (or write to you in my letter). I will explain, I promise._

_Apart from that, everything else is fine. We are progressing with no resistance whatsoever. Queen Adelaide is really popular here, and the news of her being so close, with little Augie by her side, and his unborn sibling in her, has made the people welcome us, but also soldiers and commissioned officers abandon their posts and join us. I had mentioned that this was happening when we first invaded but it hasn’t stopped._

_I did worry that it might be a trap, but they have been offering Us whatever military secrets and knowledge they have, and our scouts have confirmed the veracity of what they have been saying._

_Apparently, here she is popular not because of her charity work, but because she is George’s widow and lawfully wedded wife. The people here support Augie and want to see him on the throne, instead of that bastard Fredrik._

_Isn’t it strange? The power that a widow can have?_

_But then again, why do I wonder? Didn’t you make half a rebellious regiment lower their weapons and punish that thrice-forsaken traitor Ivanof just by asking them to protect you, my lawfully wedded Consort, from someone like Ivanof?_

_They say that a queen’s power stems from her husband’s, but doesn’t this show that a queen can have power of her own when she is so loved by her people? No one expects little Augie to rule, after all. No, they want her as Regent._

_My Love, you are so clever; you were right in making Adelaide come with Us. You, who are so wise, please, be patient with me._

_I have been such an idiot this whole week._

_How I wish you were here, with me, but I am certain that Our Work keeps you busy, and that is important work._

_Your loving Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

Nikolaj sighed. He really had to explain things to Elik, but how could he, when he couldn’t explain things to himself?

He pushed the latest letter by Vassily asking him to transfer Vasya to his office aside. He couldn’t deal with that. He might reply after he got some sleep. And he should write to Mark... but what?

No, sleep first, letter writing later. 

&*&*

Count Orning from the Office of Secret Affairs looked at the other Heads of Security. “So, we agree?”

They all nodded. 

“Thank fuck,” he groaned.

Vasily smiled. He shared the sentiment. He checked his watch and sighed. It was past one in the morning. He wouldn’t be going home that day either. 

Count Llieva, who was heading Okdranov’s Intelligence Office closed his eyes for a moment. “Can someone tell them to unlock those doors?”

Count Vjernisof, Mark’s official Head of Intelligence Office nodded and his secretary ran and knocked on the door. “Gentlemen, this was not a pleasure, but a necessity.” He stood up. “Lesnev, a word?” he said as the doors opened and everyone started leaving the Hunting Tapestries Room. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Count Vjernisof stared at him for a few moments, waiting until they were completely alone. “You did it again, Lesnev. If you wanted this meeting, you should have contacted me first, not go behind my back and make the Chancellor force us into it.”

“I did not go behind your back. I would have contacted you, Sir. The Chancellor took matters into his own hands.”

Count Vjernisof took a deep breath. “Anyone else I would have kicked off the Office years ago. I have had it with you doing whatever you want and twisting the Chancellor into doing your bidding.”

Vasily glared at him. “It is not my fault if the Chancellor listens to me.”

“It is your fault, because you should have been talking to me first, and then I to the Chancellor. Now you have your own team, you are head of it, and you have the security of the Palace. Tomorrow morning,” he groaned, “No, later this morning, you will go to the Chancellor and tell him that you are too busy to work with Internal Affairs anymore. Understood?”

Vasily stared at him for a moment. What? 

“Understood?”

“Yes, Sir, but….”

“You want to talk to the Chancellor, do it as Head of His Majesty’s Security team. No more meddling in Internal Affairs. Believe me, when the first opportunity arises, I will also make sure your other half gets transferred. Maybe he can work with Bitoulin; they work well together. You too have been causing enough problems already.”

“What problems? Grisha has never…”

He gestured for him to stop, and Vasily went quiet. “Both of you bypass the chain of command at every possible opportunity, and everyone sees it. Damn it, Lesnev, you are good at what you do, and so is your husband. Why can’t you see that your behaviour makes people resentful? The Chancellor is right, clever people can’t see the obvious.” 

It hadn’t been obvious to him. 

“You are good, but you make life difficult in the Office for a lot of us. I’d rather have an office where people know their place and work hard, than the two of you being clever pains in the neck,” he huffed. “I expect to hear the Chancellor regret that you will no longer be working with us later today, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He stayed seated as Count Vjernisof walked out. It truly wasn’t his fault if the Chancellor listened to what he told Mark. And he had thought that his colleagues liked them. Their social life interfered so much with their ideal of simple and plain living. They would all go out for drinks once a week, when they hosted dinner parties, they all came, and all of them invited them to their homes for dinners. 

All of them except Vjernisof, he suddenly realised. All these years, he’d thought it was because he was their boss and he wanted to keep their relationship strictly professional, but… Could Vjernisof really worry that Grisha and he wanted his job? He didn’t think any of his colleagues were resentful of them. And even if some did, he would have realized something, wouldn’t he? Could Vjernisof be speaking of himself? 

Sighing, he walked out of the room. 

“Sir?” 

One of the servants gave him a letter. 

It must have been urgent, but he really wanted to lie down for a bit before reading it. “Thank you.” He put it in his pocket without looking at it and headed to the Barracks. 

As usual, his secretary had left a lantern burning for him and he grinned at the thoughtfulness but also at the neatly folded clothes on his secretary’s desk with a note on top. 

_Sir,_

_We thought you’ll need a new shirt and breeches. Sorry, we couldn’t find a coat with Major’s stripes._

_We have also taken all your dirty clothes for you and sent them to Laundry, since it is clear to everyone that you will live in the Barracks until your husband is back._

_Sleep well!  
Everyone! _

_p.s. the shirt and breeches are Nikita’s – please, return them to him after use_

At least his men liked him. 

He sat down and took out the letter. 

_Nisdruna, 19th FF,_

_Hey!_

_Siuta, FUCK!_

_I met with HM this morning and … the only way that this meeting could have gone worse is if he had disagreed so much with my idea that he would have ordered me whipped on the spot._

_It really was a disaster. HM thinks only a noble response to what F is doing is worthy of him, and that means war. Not now, of course; he knows that much._

_No, he’s leaving HM to Luck and your hands._

_DOUBLE FUCK!_

Double fuck, indeed! 

He’d thought His Majesty loved His Majesty. Obviously, he loved his imperial dignity more. Even when dealing with a cheater like Francis, he first considered what he thought was noble, and then that he had to save his husband’s life. 

He smiled. It was a good thing they had bypassed the chain of command, then. 

_I would have written after the meeting, but I kept hearing of the strange incident of Fredrik’s army as I traveled, so I decided to investigate it a little. It is most curious: the army is nowhere to be seen. The scouts have not reported any major movements, although there have been a few encounters between our scouts and theirs that have ended in bloodshed and left some dead._

_Are you thinking what I am thinking?_

_Fredrik is laying a trap for HM, but not one that involves the army._

_After HM’s little trip across the West, everyone knows how mad he is about his consort – the way we have known at Ivanhof._

_Are you thinking what I am thinking again?_

He sighed. “Yes. Everyone knows His Majesty’s true weakness.” No matter how much Mark tried to spin things around…

He stopped himself from thinking about it. He was no longer in Internal Affairs. That was not his problem. No, his problem was how to keep His Majesty safe until Anton was on the throne or Francis dead. He continued reading. 

_Siuta Vasiuka, I am coming home tomorrow morning, as soon as your wolf cubs are up and ready (and I have slept a little; you wouldn’t believe how many drinks we’ve had since this morning)._

_There is no point in staying and trying to change his mind. Either he will change his mind on his own, or he won’t, so I would rather come home and support you._

_My Siuta, try to keep yourself and HM alive until I get home. I will not forgive you if you die before I am there. I will understand, but I will be annoyed with you._

_I remain yours, and I am coming to you, my only love,_

_Your Grisha_

_p.s. Kitten? Keep smiling for me._

_Everything seems so hopeless right now, but when you smile, everything is manageable._

_So, please, keep smiling, because everything does feel so dark. When HM said that he would let HM’s life to luck and your hands, I froze. I panicked. I felt that I would lose you. And then I thought of what would happen next and I despaired._

_I am so tired of all these wars. Even this one, although you have often said that no nation became great without having access to the sea. Aedley is so much smaller than we are, and yet they are so powerful and advanced compared to us. I understand why this war is important, but fuck it, Siuta, I am tired of seeing men go to their deaths. Of all the men in our first dormitory…._

“More than half of them are dead,” he finished Grisha’s sentence. And half from their second one. He too was tired of wars. 

_You will tell me, what is the point of an army that doesn’t fight? Protecting the land, of course – deterring invaders by its size and skill, and pushing them away if they invade. An army that doesn’t fight but also protects the people during peace time._

_I want an army that will be so fight-ready no one will attack us, and so devoted to the people that they will fight fires without orders to save people from the flames._

_I want so much, and I can do nothing._

_But I can come home to you._

_Also, Siuta, I have been thinking. Remember when we were talking of using pigeons to communicate? And that the main flaw is that birds fly only towards home? You had said that we’d need to have trained birds in every big town, as well as the capital, and I had thought it would be too much work, but … I think I was wrong. Bitoulin will send this Urgent, and you know what that means. I do feel sad for all the horses._

_How far do pigeons fly, anyway? I have no idea, but we need to find that out too._

_When you have time, can you find out, and think of where we should have bird communication units? Which towns would be most suitable so that communication between towns and the capital will be most efficient? How long before we have such units ready?_

He grinned. Ah. Grisha! So much for feeling hopelessness and despair. He was already thinking ahead. Grisha amazed him so much! He was so wonderful, and nothing ever stopped him. Nothing. 

He’d think about the bird system in the morning. It could wait a few hours. 

He put a note on the desk for his secretary.

_Please,_

_Wake me up at seven, and have Doctor Van den Berg here at 7.15. Thank you._

He picked up the clothes Nikita had lent him and went into his office. The kittens were curled around each other next to Dog Two, sleeping peacefully, but the dogs all looked up and rose the moment he opened the door. 

“Hey, you, I’m sorry, I was late.” He put the clothes in the closet, knelt down and petted them all for a few minutes, grinning as they licked him. “Can we go to sleep now?”


	68. Chapter 68

26th 

Grigori stood still while Doctor Kirilov examined his back and changed his bandages. “I am feeling well enough to travel. If you do not discharge me today, I will leave myself.”

“Are you mad? You are still hot to the touch, even though your fever has fallen. You are not leaving.”

“I am…”

Doctor Kirilov glared at him. “I know I can’t tie you down myself, but everyone on other side of that door can. You will stay here until I say you can travel.”

How he wanted to go home. He was in pain, he was clear-headed, and he wanted to go back to Vasya. What was he doing there but wasting time? “But I can travel.” 

The doctor opened the door. “If he dares move, tie him to the bed,” he told loudly to all the Guards who were outside as he walked out. “Have a nice day, patient Lesnev.”

Grigori closed his eyes. “I am fine,” he shouted.

The wolf cubs were the first to enter. “You are not well, Sir. Not if the Doctor doesn’t let you leave.”

“I will be better once I am on my way.” Going home was what he needed. Everything was out of his hands by that point, and he was just wasting his time at that place. He stared at the two of them, while he noticed that Michal slipped inside the room and hid behind Evgeni and Carel, while Prokop and Yulian waited by the door. “I’m not lying. I am well enough to travel.” He smiled. “I was such a good patient yesterday, wasn’t I?” He had not asked to leave once. 

Evgeni took a deep breath. “Sir, if anything happened to you on the journey back, how would we face our Captain?” he asked him with a sad expression.

Carel nodded and translated quietly for Michal. 

“Sir, you are not well yet,” Michal told him seriously.

“And how would you know?” Grigori asked him, teasing him. 

“Because washing you when you sweat is my job, and you were sweaty last night. You are not well yet.”

“You have started learning how to heal by learning how to be a nurse first?” he asked him, smiling.

“Yes, Sir. I am your nurse, and I say, you cannot leave yet.” Michal told him firmly. 

Ah, what could he do in the face of such opposition? Besides, he understood Evgeni’s concern. If he were in his place, how would he face his Captain? “Fine, I will stay here. I would like to go to the garden for a walk. Is that allowed?”

They nodded. Michal made him wear a dressing gown, and then he was escorted downstairs, to the inner courtyard of the hospital.

“You are all so fussy,” he smiled at them once he had sat down. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and felt the warmth of the sun for a few moments. When he opened his eyes again, he saw everyone around him, not just the wolf cubs and Michal. There were His Majesty’s four Guards, the ten Quhjani riders and the hundred or so of his Huntsmen who had stayed behind. Whatever for? Didn’t they have work to do? “You look like you’re waiting for a storyteller to begin,” he chuckled, making them laugh. “Well, since you are here, what story should I tell you?” He smiled. “I know. The story of how King Laurus’ men took the impregnable city of Peshav.”

&*&*

Mark knocked on the door of Vasya’s office. “You know… oh, Dr Van den Berg, hello.”

The Doctor nodded at him as he continued pulling out a dark thread that he had used to stitch Vasya’s wound. “Oh, I came at a bad time,” he said, turning around. Even though the wound had healed well, he felt sick at the sight. 

“No, I was just finishing,” the doctor told him and he came back into the room. He watched as the doctor threw the last of the threads in a bag. He poured alcohol on a piece of gauze and wiped Vasya’s scar with it. “All done.”

Despite his nausea, he came forward to see it. “It looks neat.”

“Of course,” Doctor Van den Berg preened. “I was taught by the best.”

“His Majesty insisted on hiring Drs Visser and Van den Berg on account of their tidy and small stitches,” Vasya grinned. “I ought to thank him later. And thank you, Doctor.”

“Thank me by staying away from bullets.”

“Yes, Sir. Ah, Yusta, some coffee, please.”

Coffee? Vasya rarely drank coffee. 

“Yes, Sir.”

Mark sat down as Yusta hurried out to bring them coffee, the doctor and his assistant gathered their things, and Vasya started putting on his shirt. “You do realise,” he told him once they were alone in the office, “I am doing you a great favour right now. As my subordinate, you should have come to my office to give me your report,” he grinned. 

“Well,” Vasya opened the narrow closet that was next to door, and looked inside. “They took everything,” he chuckled.

“Excuse me?”

“The men. They took my clothes to Laundry, and they took everything. Even all my coats.” He suddenly took out a familiar red coat. “Will anyone mind if I wear this?” he grinned. 

Mark groaned. “You can’t show up at court wearing that,” he protested. 

“Really? Oh, the shame,” Vasya laughed as he wore it. 

Even if one could accept that Vasya was wearing the coat of a different regiment, one would never accept him wearing such an ill-fitted garment, too wide on the shoulders and the sleeves, and too large on the torso. Vasya looked strange in Grisha’s clothes, he thought. He looked thinner and a bit smaller than usual, he realized with surprise, almost like a child wearing an adult’s hand-me-downs. How odd. 

Yusta opened the door and came in with a tray in his hands. The smell of coffee was enough to wake him up, and the sight of the cake with the whipped cream made his mouth water. 

“Thank you, Yusta.”

Vasya poured them some coffee as soon as they were alone. “I have news.”

“I’m listening.” He grinned. “Vasya.”

Vasya smiled. “First of all, thank you for agreeing to come to my office. I would rather not come to yours anymore.”

“Why?”

“After yesterday’s meeting, I cannot be your subordinate anymore. It contradicts and undermines my role as Head of His Majesty’s Security.”

Mark frowned for a second and forced himself to stop. “You were happy to be my subordinate until two days ago.”

“But not anymore. I’m sorry.” 

Vasya looked truly upset over it, so Mark decided not to insist. He nodded. “I understand. But, Vasya, you can still share everything with me.” He could be at ease with Vasya in a way that he couldn’t be with his subordinates. He could be himself with his cousin. 

Vasya smiled at him. “Yes, I can, and that is the other reason I asked you here.”

“Is it about that inquest that kept you away from court two nights ago?”

“Yes. Didn’t you get the report? I gave them specific orders to have it sent to you as soon as it was all neatly written and copied.”

Mark smirked. “Yes, and I got it right before dinner. Do you know me to read anything longer than a page? Especially right before dinner? Summary, please,” he grinned.

Vasya shook his head, smiling as if he expected that, but wasn’t too happy about it. “We caught another Ustvelan assassin, but I hope that I managed to persuade him to work for us.” 

Mark froze. Fuck, maybe he should start getting his staff to make summaries of reports the moment they got them. “Longer summary?”

“He came here two months ago, poisoned one of the sauce makers of Count Marcovic and then presented himself as one of Duke Barianin’s unemployed cooks. With all the rumours and the way the Barianins had left the capital, Marcovic believed him, and didn’t think to check his background.”

“Yes, Marcovic is a bit of an idiot,” Mark snorted. 

“Then, a few days ago, when everyone knew when His Majesty would be arriving at the capital, he poisoned one of the sauce makers here, and got his job, thanks to Marcovic’ recommendation.”

“How did he do that?”

“He had acquainted himself with various other cooks working for noblemen in the last two months. It was not that difficult to become friends with someone working in the Palace through them. It’s not like people are chained to their posts. They move around, they make acquaintances. You know how these things go.”

Mark groaned. “Great, just great.”

“At least we caught him.” Vasya sighed. “He says he’s the only one here, but can we be certain?” He pushed a folder towards Mark. “After our meeting yesterday, we decided that all Palace security will be handled by my office.” 

“What’s this?”

“Request for a bigger budget. I want to have more men, and more funds at my disposal.”

No wonder Vasya had served cake. He was really trying to sweeten him up. “Consider it done. What else did you decide yesterday? Who does what?”

“Okdranov handles only military-related intelligence. Office of Secret Affairs spies on everyone at the Capital, except at Ivanhof – that’s for the Guards. Secret Police investigates whatever police proper officially doesn’t, after all the spying done by Guards or the Office of Secret Affairs. Internal Affairs gets everything else.”

“Like what?” He whined. “You’ve left nothing for me.”

“The whole country is yours to spy upon. External threats, such as those posed by Francis. Diplomatic reports. What else do you want?”

“I want to know everything. I have to know everything.”

Vasya smiled. “I knew you’d say that. Don’t worry, the Chancellery will continue getting reports from all security teams and will have final say on all matters of state security.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“You look like one of the kittens after having had cream,” Vasya grinned. 

Mark laughed. “They sleep so peacefully again.”

“They were up at five again.” Vasya took a deep breath. “Mark, I request permission to go home now. I have slept for maybe twenty hours in the last six days and trying to get to the truth is exhausting. I have left instructions to Sergei and the others to not leave a stone unturned in their search, and I know they will do it fine without me looking over their shoulder. So, with your permission….” The knock on the door stopped him. “Yes?”

“Urgent letters, Sir,” Sukhov said as he opened the door. 

“Yes, thank you.”

Sukhov brought two large bags and put them on his desk. 

“What on earth are these?” Mark asked. 

“I have no idea. Thank you, Sukhov.”

“No, there’s one more.” He hurried out and brought it over. “And these were marked as Urgent Urgent,” he said as he gave him a few envelopes. 

Vasya stared at them miserably. Mark knew what he was thinking. ‘I will never go home.’ “Get some rest and open them later. Nothing is truly urgent.”

Vasya sighed. “But what if it is? Mark, I got some bad news yesterday. It is so good that we bypassed the chain of command. His Majesty did not approve Grisha’s plan.”

Mark groaned. “Why didn’t you start from that?”

“Because dealing with an assassin at Ivanhof was more urgent, and we have sent a team already. They should be half-way to Ystrina by now. I am not worried about them. Not yet, anyway.”

“Fine, you have a point.” He cut into the cake and tried it. “Oh, delicious. Vanilla and rose essence?”

“Indeed. You like it? It’s our interrogation special.”

Mark chocked on it. “You torture your suspects by withholding cake?” he gasped after he had managed to swallow and stop laughing.

“No, I offer it to them.” Vasya smiled as he opened the first of the Urgent Urgent letters. His smile fell slowly, and he grew pale.

“Vasya?” he whispered.

Vasya handed him the letter as he opened the second one with the same miserable expression. 

_Nisdruna, 20th FF,_

_Lesnev,_

_There is no way to say this gently, so I will just go ahead._

_His Majesty ordered G to have ten lashes with the great whip for not giving a report to Him, which he equated to lying to Him. He also ordered you to have ten, but G… you can imagine what he did._

_I have never felt so disgusted with myself in my whole life and so sick of what I’ve done. Also, I have never felt so disgusted at His Majesty’s behaviour. He was like an animal, so mad with anger that he couldn’t tell truth from lies._

_I swear to you, I tried to hurt him as little as possible. I skipped two lashings, and Stanislav tried to hit him as lightly as possible, but it is still that fucking thing._

_I think you should punch the Chancellor when you can, because we all know that he is responsible for not giving reports to HM when it suits him. Or when it suits HM – I can never tell._

_Anyway, I would punch him, but perhaps you won’t. You are family, and family members support each other, the way that G covered for him and took your punishment. But I would punch him! I swear, when I am back, I will._

_G also forbade us to judge HM, but allowed us not to like it, so I did not. As of today, I am sick. You can contact me, of course – I am not sick for you, but I am sick. I really am._

_As always, I remain your friend and I hope you can forgive me,_

_T.B._

_p.s. G said that I was just doing my job – but, I have never felt so sick at doing my job, V, never_

Mark put the letter down and looked up. Vasya’s expression had turned from miserable to stricken. “You can punch me, if you want,” he said quietly. “This is my fault.” And clearly, his letter had not reached Nikolaj on time. If only he hadn’t been so distracted by his fear of losing Vasya, if only he’d written the moment that he had realized that he should write. “It is all my fault,” he whispered.

Vasya made a strange little sound and Mark went quiet. He would deserve it if Vasya punched him. He would deserve it if Grisha punched him, and Bitoulin too, and all their friends…. Well, maybe not all their friends. These two had quite a lot of friends – just few among the courtiers. 

He continued staring at Vasya as he read that second Urgent Urgent letter. It was a long one and the more Vasya read, the paler he became. That was frightening to see, since Vasya had paled already by reading Bitoulin’s letter.

“You should punch me,” he offered, when Vasya put it down. 

“What would be the point of that?” Vasya asked him unhappily. “It won’t change a thing, and it won’t make me happier.” He shuddered.

Mark sprang up from his seat and hugged him. 

“Mark,” Vasya sighed, “help me.”

“What do you need?”

“I don’t know. I wish I were a bird, so I could fly to him.” 

He sighed and kept his mouth shut. This was all his fault and no amount of spinning could fix what he had done. 

With another shudder, Vasya slid away from him. “Here,” he said as he gave him the second letter. “Carel’s report.” 

He sat down again and started reading, feeling horrified. “That’s him when he is…” drunk, angry, frustrated, feeling like his ‘darling’ was been abused. How could Nikolaj be so offended and angry at…

“That fucking attempt at Fladd happened in Spring, why did he get so angry now?” Vasya asked him. 

“I don’t know.” Mark looked down. “I think….”

“Yes?”

“He really hates liars.” Vasya snorted at his words, making him grin for a moment. “He does. I told you, even his mother lied to him, and after seeing that box with the notes… Ivanhof is full of liars, Vasya, and I am the biggest of them all.”

Vasya glared at him. “You want me to punch you? Is that what you are doing?” 

“No, but feel free to do it, if it makes you feel better.”

“Grisha wanted to punch you. I…” he sighed and started opening the next letter, a simply Urgent one. 

Mark continued reading Carel’s report. Oh, Nikolaj, how could you do this? He couldn’t understand. Hadn’t they both promised that they would protect their Vasya and his Grisha when they had first seen them together? They hadn’t been very successful all the time, but they had tried their best. Up to that point, when he’d made a mistake and then another, and Nikolaj lost it and Grisha… He sighed. 

Grisha would be fine. He had to be. 

Vasya suddenly upturned the bag and all its contents fell on his desk and the floor. The dogs stood up and tried to chase the pieces of paper. “No, down, down,” he shouted at them. “Good dogs.” 

Mark started picking up the letters that had attracted their attention while Vasya leashed them and guided them out. “Sukhof, take care of them,” he said. He came back inside, put the kittens in their basket and took that out too. “Them too. My office is off limits to everyone from now.”

He came back inside, and stared at Mark for a moment, before going back to his desk and to the pile of letters on it. Vasya picked one up, opened it, glanced at it and threw it aside. Then he did that again. And again. 

“What is it?”

“Grisha’s men, all writing the same thing. How His Majesty punished him, how Grisha was more than brave, and how he forbade them to judge but allowed them not to like it. They all write that this is a grave injustice and that the one who is responsible should pay.”

Mark swallowed. He knew Grisha was popular and that his men adored him, but he had no idea how much they did. And…. “I’m happy for you or Grisha to punch me,” he told Vasya, “or for His Majesty to punish me, but…” Those men wanted his blood, and he was not going to give that to them. “I will not give up myself to their ‘justice’,” he told him. 

Vasya shivered. “Bitoulin is right. You are my family. I am mad at you, so mad, but what is the point of anger? Emotions won’t…” He glanced at the letters and froze. “Mark, Grisha’s men talk.”

“Eh?”

“They talk and share information as much as the Guards do. If they have written to me, they have written to the others here. Mark, I want you to stay here, maybe stay close to His Majesty, since everyone loves him, and he will protect you, and…. Mark? I want you to stay as far away from your regiment as possible.” He stood up and started walking out.

“Where are you going?”

“Where else? To the Reds. Can you imagine them not liking it?” 

“So, what do I do?”

“Go paint naked Guards in the garden, what else?” Vasya looked at him miserably. “Maybe I am overreacting, and I am worrying without reason. No need to make others worry. May Luck be with you, Cousin.”

Mark nodded. “May Luck be with you.” He stayed still. What had he done?

&*&*

Maxim stood very still. He hadn’t given false praise to their Young Lord for wearing that dress. It looked dainty, but it was heavy. He smiled. Their Young Lord would handle the chain mail shirt easily when it was done. 

“Did you hear about the Curious Incident at the Captain’s Office?” Jan asked.

“What happened?” he asked. 

“He gave all the animals to Sukhof.”

“Yes, and?” Leonid laughed. “Sukhof, Yusta, and we have been taking care of these creatures more than the Captain.”

“Yes, and I am enjoying it so much,” Roman grinned. “I think I want a dog too.”

“Do you?” He turned back and glanced at the three of them lying down and posing as they sunbathed. Master Han cleared his voice and Maxim resumed his position. “What kind of a dog?”

“A mutt,” Roman said immediately. “They are clever and loyal. The Captain’s dogs are great, but they are too demanding for me.”

“That is not the issue here,” Jan said a bit impatiently. “Although, I agree, the Captain’s dogs are great. Brushing them when they lie down and they are like big toys is the best thing in the world.”

“I heard you can use their fur to make yarn,” Maxim told them.

“Do you think we should collect it? We could make a sweater for the captain.”

“Or a blanket.”

Maxim laughed. “He’ll need one for his office, since he lives and sleeps there.”

“Probably. Argh, you are getting me distracted again,” Jan grumbled. “The thing is, he took them out of his office, and said his office is off-limits.”

“But everyone knows that they live in his office.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that curious?”

“It is,” Maxim agreed. 

“And it all happened after he got letters. Sukhof said it must have been dozens of them, if not more.”

“So, the office is off-limits because he wants the letters off-limits,” Roman said after a moment. 

“Brothers,” Maxim grinned, “do we have a mission?”

“That’s not fair,” Roman told them.

“It is fair. If he has the Chancellor spied upon because the Chancellor spies on him, then we too have the right to break into his office and read his letters,” Maxim continued happily.

“No,” Roman shouted. 

“It Is not the same,” Jan agreed with Roman. “The Captain doesn’t spy on us, nor does he read our private letters.”

“Indeed,” Leonid laughed. “Who needs to open letters when Maxim tells everything?”

“Hey,” he protested.

Leonid continued laughing. “Maxim, who told the Captain how big Hans Ulrich was? And how he liked to be licked there? You know where.” 

“But he did.”

“And did the Captain need to know that?”

“Well, yes, because that was Hans Ulrich’s most sensitive spot. What if we ever needed to interrogate him? That would be the spot to attack to make him give up all his secrets.” As he said it, he realized how ludicrous his excuse sounded and started laughing. “I had to share it,” he wheezed, “because why not?” he told them the truth. Everyone had to know how great Maxim was, and how he could make even kings tremble!

“Exactly,” Leonid said. “You shared something the rest of us did not share. And what did the captain do?”

He thought back at when they had given him their full report on how they had broken into Hans Ulrich’s bedroom and what they had done there. “Nothing. He gave us more tea and told us to continue with our report.” Maxim felt a little awkward; he hadn’t realized up until that moment that he had been the only one to share all the intimate details between them and Hans Ulrich. And he’d even drawn pictures on the sides of his written reports, he thought and reddened. 

“So, if we want to be fair, we need to wait for the Captain to tell us,” Jan told them. 

“But… dozens of letters? All in one day? Aren’t you curious?”

“Of course, we are, but we,” Roman started. “What’s going on?”

He heard them move and he turned around as well, immediately seeing what had drawn Roman’s attention. Everyone at the Young Lord’s table was up and Vadim and Boyan who were on Imperial Guard duty that morning had moved closer to their Young Lord. The other guards too had abandoned their positions and were also approaching him. 

He glanced at the others and with a nod, Roman, Jan and Leonid stood up. He ignored Master Han’s order for him to sit still, and together, they went closer, catching snippets of worried discussions.

“What is going on, Sire?” Maxim asked him. 

The dukes turned to glare at him, clearly judging him impertinent, but he didn’t care. They were not his boss; the Young Lord was, and he was his brother. 

The Young Lord turned towards Maxim. “We don’t know,” he whispered. “Tell him. No, tell everyone,” he commanded Okdranov as he raised his hand and everyone fell quiet. 

“I just received a report that the Greys have abandoned their barracks and they are moving towards the Capital.”

“Same news about my regiment too,” Andrejevich said. Theissen nodded. 

“And I have received the same news about the Greens,” Vladimirov said. “Only, in the report I got, they wrote that they were moving towards the Barracks of the Reds.”

“And the Chancellor has not sent me any messages since this morning, when he wrote that he had to meet Vasya on urgent business and he was not sure if he would be able to attend this morning’s council meeting,” the Young Lord sighed. 

Maxim glanced at Filon and Artyom, but they shrugged and shook their heads. They too had no idea where the Chancellor was. 

“We are all going to die,” Princess Olga screamed. “Mutiny, mutiny,” she gasped and fainted, her ladies of honour halting her fall. 

Maxim frowned. All of a sudden, there was chaos, and he couldn’t tell who was shouting ‘mutiny’, and who was crying.

The Young Lord climbed on a chair. “Enough,” he shouted over the noise. “There is no mutiny. Just… the regiments marching towards the capital.”

Everyone started screaming and crying again. 

Maxim shook his head. That was like the time the Young Lord had told them the story of the dead who wouldn’t stay dead. He had no idea that what he was saying was horrible, and the more he tried to explain, the worse and more dreadful it became. He would never forget how traumatic the experience had been, especially for Evgeni. 

“The regiments marching without orders is mutiny, Sire,” Okdranov said quietly.

“Does anyone know where Mark is? If they are going at the Reds’ barracks, then maybe he has some idea of what is going on,” Theissen suggested. 

The Dukes and the guards turned towards Filon and Artyom. 

They looked awkward and started getting red.

“Please,” Roman begged them. “If you know something, share it.”

“He got a request to meet the Captain early this morning, so he went there,” Filon finally said. 

“Do you think the Chancellor might still be in the Captain’s office?” Jan asked. 

“The Captain’s office is off-limits to everyone,” Roman reminded them.

The Young Lord stepped down. “It may be off-limits to everyone, but not to me. Vasya is my brother. He has no secrets from me.”

Maxim smiled. Of course, they were all brothers after their trip. Why shouldn’t the Young Lord be a brother to their Captain? It made sense! 

“Gentlemen,” the Young Lord told the Dukes, “I will go to Vasya’s office and find out what is happening. Can you find out what is going on with your regiments? Maxim, can you and the others take the Ladies inside?”

“Yes, Sire,” they saluted him. 

“And maybe get dressed afterwards?” he told Maxim very softly as he walked by him. He looked pale. “There’s only a hundred Guards at Ivanhof, Maxim. How will we defend this place against five regiments?”

“We have you, Sire,” Roman said just as quietly. “You can stop them.”

He looked at them. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I will see you soon, Gentlemen.” With a nod, and accompanied by Vadim and Boyan, he started walking towards the Barracks of the Imperial Guards. 

Maxim glanced as the Dukes were scribbling furiously and immediately ignored them. That was not his job. He approached Princess Olga, and smiled at her ladies, all calmness and politeness. “You heard His Majesty. Come, help me raise Her Highness.” 

What was going on? He could not believe that the regiments around the capital could all mutiny, could they? 

&*&*

Unlike the last time he had visited the Barracks of the Reds, everyone was already gathered at the courtyard and talking loudly, all at the same time. Even from outside the entrance, he could hear them, even though he could not make out what they were saying. 

“Major,” Pyotr shouted. “The Major. Is. Here.”

Timofey reached for his firearm for a second. The next moment, he brought his hand to his mouth and whistled loudly.

“Major, have you heard what happened?” 

He nodded. “I see that you have as well.” He dismounted and stared at the crowd inside the courtyard. “What is happening?”

“We are trying to decide what to do. This injustice cannot stay unpunished.” Timofey grabbed his hands. “You are here, so you must agree with us.”

“And what are your thoughts on how to punish the injustice?”

Pyotr shrugged. “We are still debating.” He turned towards the courtyard. “Will you be fucking quiet for a fucking moment? The Major is here,” he shouted as loudly as he could. 

This time, some of the men heard him. Moments later, Vasily was surrounded by men, all talking fast and loudly and pushing him forward. “I can’t understand a thing. One at the time, please,” he finally shouted at them. “Please.”

Fyodor, Alexei, and Samuil pushed the others aside. “You are crushing the Major,” they shouted. “Out of the way.”

Surprisingly, they listened this time. Within minutes, the path between him and the building was clear, even though they all continued to talk loudly and simultaneously. He let their voices wash over him as he walked to the Main Building, where the Great Hall was. 

Alec was waiting there, looking miserable. Once there, he climbed up the stairs and stood next to him.

Alec raised his hand and the men went quiet. “Told you he would be with us before we even sent a messenger,” he smirked for a second. “Lesnev, what do you think of this injustice?”

“It is clear that you have received the same news I have,” he told them. “And that you also feel that this injustice cannot be tolerated. What are your thoughts?” They started shouting. “Please, one at a time.” They fell quiet again, but a lot of hands went up. “Artemi?” 

“Those responsible have to be punished,” he said. The men responded with ‘yes’ and ‘punish the guilty’ to his words. 

“I agree,” he told them. “How?”

They started murmuring. Finally, Leontii stepped forward from among a group of men, half of whom he recognized. “Our Captain would never lie to His Majesty. Nor hide reports from him. No, that is the Chancellor’s doing,” he said and spat on the ground. 

“Punish the Chancellor,” his group started chanting, and the rest of the men picked it up. Soon their cry changed. “Death to the Chancellor, death to the Chancellor.”

Vasily stared at them. Mark had been right; they did want his blood. Like Mark though, he was not going to let them have it. Mark was his only family apart from Grisha, and he owed him. He owed him so much. “You are right,” he said, and they went quiet. “The Chancellor must be punished, but death is too high a penalty for what he did.”

“His actions caused the Captain to be whipped. He deserves to be punished.”

“I agree. But don’t you think that death is a greater punishment than whipping?” 

“Then have him whipped too,” someone from the back shouted. 

“Whip the Chancellor, whip the Chancellor,” they started shouting rhythmically, raising their fists in the air. 

“Grisha would be so disappointed if he heard you right now,” he said and the men at the front who heard him stopped chanting, looked awkward, and passed on the message. Soon everyone was quiet. “Which ones of you were here when Grisha burned the benches used for tying people down right there?” he asked them, pointing at the centre of the courtyard. “You remember that day, when he said that punishment should follow an inquest, a trial, and a judgment, and should be appropriate to the crime? And when he said that corporal punishment, and whippings especially, had no place among free men still loyal to their country?”

“What do we do, then?” Leontii said, looking as embarrassed as the others of his group. 

“The Chancellor’s actions did cause the Captain to be whipped,” Prokhor said, clearly becoming the representative of the men around him. 

“And we have proof,” someone shouted and Vasily saw all of Grisha’s Huntsmen raise their hands, all holding a letter. They truly shared information as fast and as efficiently as his own men. 

“I do not deny that,” Vasily told them. “And I do agree he must be punished for what he did. But not with a whipping, let alone death,” he told them firmly. “You are men of justice, are you not? How would you punish someone for withholding information that he thought was irrelevant? Or, if he failed to report something?”

The men looked at Alec. 

“It depends on the consequences of the failure to report something,” Alec said. “A fine for no or minor consequences, a fine and confinement for something that has resulted in a serious error, and, if this happens during war time, and results to loss of life, then the choice between exile to the North or going to the frontlines.”

He smiled a little at him. “I do not think that Grisha’s punishment was a minor consequence of the Chancellor’s withholding of my report,” he told the men seriously, “but it did not result to loss of life either. Since we cannot confine the Chancellor, what if we propose that he stays away from the Barracks for a month.”

“Not enough,” Leontii shouted, and everyone mimicked him. 

“Please, let me finish. We will also fine him.” He smiled. “Grisha had mentioned that he wanted to have the Riding Hall extended. What if the Chancellor pays for a new Riding Hall using his own funds, and not Chancellery budget?” Mark could afford it; he knew that much. “Is that a fair punishment, according to the rules that you have here?” 

“How would you punish him? If he were one of your men, and withheld information?” Alexei asked him. 

“None of my men has ever withheld information from me,” he told them. “In fact, some give me more information than I need.” And some even drew things for him. He had more anatomically correct drawings of various noblemen and noblewomen across the West than he would ever need, if he had ever wanted them in the first place. “But, if someone had, then…” He would ask them why and explain to them that what they had done was wrong, but that was probably not something they would be happy to hear. “I would fine them,” he said. 

The men murmured among themselves for a few moments. “Then, we accept your suggestion,” Leontii said. 

He nodded. A noise from the end of the courtyard stopped him from asking for a piece of paper. 

The men parted, letting Majors Glinof, Ivin, and Ross ride into the courtyard, several of the Greys riding behind them. 

“Greetings,” Major Glinof shouted. “Ah, so you have received the news already, Lesnev. What have you decided to do about this grave injustice?”

Vasily tried not to sigh. “What if we went to the shooting range behind the barracks? I will tell you everything there, to you and your men.”

Alec snorted behind him. “You did come to relieve me of command,” he whispered. “Thank fuck.”

&*&*

Ignoring the soldier’s protests, Elik opened the door to Vasya’s office. Just as Jan had suggested, Mark was still there, sitting on Vasya’s desk with his face hidden behind his hands. Elik walked inside, and gestured for Vadim and Boyan to wait outside. 

“Mark? Do you know what is going on?”

Mark looked at him strangely. “What is going on?”

Elik sat on the chair facing Mark. “The Greys and the other regiments commanded by the Ministers are marching towards the Capital. Or the Barrack of the Reds. We don’t know yet.” 

“The Barracks,” Mark whispered tiredly.

“Mark? What is going on? Where is Vasya?”

Without replying, Mark handed him a long letter and let his face fall on the desk with a deep sigh. 

Frowning for a second, Elik started reading how His Husband had received Grisha, and how he would rather let Francis kill him than lose face in front of his Royal Brothers. And the letter, or rather report, only got worse, with His Majesty getting so angry over not being told that someone had tried to poison Elik months earlier, that he’d punished Grisha. And he would have punished Vasya too, if Grisha hadn’t taken his punishment. The report ended soon after Grisha had been punished, and Carel writing that he had never been so angry in his life, and so disgusted with His Majesty and the Chancellor. 

“It’s all my fault,” Mark muttered miserably the moment he put the letter down. “I should have been punished for it, but Grisha did instead.”

“He would have me killed,” Elik whispered just as miserably. “I thought he loved me.” Tears filled his eyes. He knew Nikolaj could be cruel, but he had never imagined that he would be that cruel, nor that he could betray their love in such manner. Even being raped had hurt less; or maybe just as much? He wasn’t sure. 

A moment later, he felt Mark hug him. 

“How could I do this to them?” Mark sighed.

“How could he do this to me?” Elik said just as quietly. 

They looked at each other. 

“I hate myself,” Mark told him despondently. 

“I still love him,” Elik told him just as miserably. Why? He was so …. He didn’t know what he was, but he wasn’t happy. “Where is Vasya?”

“At the Barracks of the Reds. He said we should stay at Ivanhof.”

Elik glared at him. “I don’t like staying put.”

Mark took a deep breath. “Sire. Didn’t you read that letter?” He pointed at the letters in front of him. “Letters such as these have been sent to The Reds, and they all write the same thing: that Grisha’s punishment is my fault. Vasya is scared that the Reds might want me dead, and he wants me to stay here so you can protect me.”

“Oh.” He studied Mark. “Really? I can protect you?”

Mark nodded. He pushed the letters in front of him towards Elik. “I think Vasya is right. If I had read this, I would want me dead. But I am not ready to die, Sire.”

“That makes two of us,” Elik told him with another sigh. “I can’t believe that Nikolaj would do such a thing. I can’t.” He started crying. Mark made a little noise, and Elik looked up. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s a good thing we have already sent a team to interfere in Ustvelan affairs, isn’t it?” 

Elik smiled shakily. “Yes, you are right.”

“And I have some good news for you. Vasya’s team apprehended another assassin the other night.”

“When did you find out?”

“This morning. Vasya wanted to tell me before going home to rest but then he got these and…” Mark stared at him miserably. “This is all my fault,” he started saying again. “All mine.”

Elik couldn’t be mad at him for not telling him about the assassin immediately. He’d probably do the same if he were in Mark’s place. “Mistakes happen, Mark. How could you have known that….” Where to start?

“I didn’t know, but what is the point of having people like Vasya and Grisha go through reports and analyze things when I am not listening to them? I trusted my own judgement more than that of my professionals. I can’t forgive that. If I were my subordinate, I would have sent me home. And…” Mark said even more sadly. 

“Yes?”

“I got Grisha hurt, and I made Vasya sad,” he cried.

Elik sighed. If he hurt Irina because of a mistake he’d made, he too would feel more miserable about that than his mistake. “They will forgive you,” he told him. The way Irina would forgive him; the way Irina had forgiven him when he hurt her by surrendering himself to Nikolaj three years earlier. “That’s what siblings do. You hurt them, and they forgive you.”

“I hope so,” he whispered mournfully. “You don’t know what stubborn mules have come out of his family.”

Elik smiled. “He wouldn’t be telling you to stay safe if he hadn’t forgiven you already,” he said reasonably. 

Mark looked at him. “You are right,” he said, his expression full of hope and relief. 

“You really think I can protect you?”

“Sire, everyone loves you.”

“Except for my husband,” he sighed.

“He does,” Mark told him quietly, “but…”

“He loves his Royal Brothers more.”

“Not them. The idea of royal brotherhood. That all kings share the same right to rule over their people, and that they are all equal and separate from everyone else.”

Elik took a deep breath. “And I am not royal. To him…” He sighed deeply. What did it matter if everyone at court treated him better, if his own husband would always see him as his slave? He let his head fall on the desk. “I so need a drink,” he sighed. 

“Me too.”

They looked at each other. 

“We can’t have any,” Elik told him. “We are dealing with a crisis.”

“I agree,” Mark said. “And it’s not even eleven in the morning yet.”

“True, it is early.” Elik sighed. “But maybe it is evening somewhere else?”

“And maybe we are exaggerating? Maybe this is not a crisis.”

“Or a mutiny.”

“Yes, maybe they are all gathering at the Barracks to… Fuck, it is a mutiny in the making,” Mark sighed.

So, a drink was definitely not something they could have at that point. Fuck. “Can’t we send the police to arrest them?”

“There are 7.500 men in the five regiments commanded by the ministers, all fight-ready and well-equipped, and only a thousand regular police officers.”

“For the whole of the city?”

He nodded. “When there are emergencies or other needs, the army takes on some of the duties of the police, like maintaining the peace, and keeping order.”

Yes, he had seen them when he arrived at the Capital earlier that week. “We really will be in trouble if they all revolt.”

“You won’t be. They love you.” Mark sighed even more deeply. “No, it is me they want.” He stood up. “I should go to the Barracks and offer myself to them. That will stop them.”

Elik stood up as well. “You are doing it again. You are going against the advice of your professionals,” he told him. “You will come with me at Ivanhof. If need be, I will hide you in my bedroom.”

Mark chuckled. “Alright.”

“Good.” 

Elik turned around and walked out, knowing that Mark would follow him. “Let’s go to Ivanhof, then.”

He really hated sitting and waiting. He wanted to go to his brother and tell him that he was so sorry that he had such a miserably stupid husband. And then cry because his husband was so miserably stupid, and … maybe they could hug each other. He needed a hug more than a drink. 

&*&*

Vasily studied the other Majors and waited for their decision. How he hoped they had accepted his proposal about Mark’s punishment. He had no idea what else to do to save him. Mark was his only family. 

Alex suddenly touched his arm, making him look up. “You look like shit, Lesnev.”

He nodded. “I feel like shit. I want to go to…” He cut himself off. Sentimentality did not have a place there. Oh, but how he wished he were a bird. Grisha and he would have been so much happier if they were both birds. A short life full of dangers, but a free one. How he envied them. 

Major Plekhanov of the Greens gave him a sympathetic look. “Since you have abolished corporal punishment in the Reds, then I think this is a good idea. I’m happy with a fine and not letting the Chancellor anywhere near the regiment for a month.”

Major Ivin of the Greys nodded. “Sounds good to me.” He grinned. “You should get some rest, Lesnev, or the Reds will then turn on us. You do look like shit.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“We too agree with it,” Major Danilov of the Silvers said after a look with the other two majors of Theissen’s regiment. 

Alec raised his hand. “All in favour, raise your hand.”

They all did. 

“Lesnev, you want to talk to the men?”

No, he didn’t. He wanted to go home and… He nodded and the others let him pass. He took the ten steps that separated him from everyone feeling more than tired. 

“We have decided that a month away from command and the construction of a new Riding Hall are a proper punishment for what the Chancellor has done. Do you approve?” he asked as loudly as he could the men gathered there. 

They murmured among themselves for a few minutes. 

“Yes,” someone shouted from the middle, and then there was chaos, as they all shouted that they agreed or stomped their feet in approval. 

“But what about His Majesty?” Someone shouted and they all fell quiet for a moment. “Punish His Majesty. Punish His Majesty,” they all started chanting.

Vasily looked at them. 

“Fuck,” Alec swore behind him. “You deal with them, Lesnev,” he whispered, patting him on the back. 

Fuck. He raised his hand and they quietened. “He should be punished,” he told them loudly. “His Majesty loves two things only.” Strange; only a day ago, he’d have said three things. “Himself, and his dignity.”

The men waited for him to continue. 

“Since there was no loss of life, we cannot demand his life. We are a fair and just army, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are, Sir,” they all shouted.

“Holy fuck,” Major Glinof whispered. 

“So, we will strike at his dignity. We will make a formal protest.”

“What?” Leontii took a step forward. “Sir,” he growled. “We want to see him punished, not coddled.”

“Yes. Punish His Majesty, Punish His Majesty,” they started again. 

“Hear me out, please.” He waited until they were quiet again. “We will demand what no protester has ever asked of him. And we will have him punished, Gentlemen, only we will do it fairly. Because we are still just, even with those who are not worthy of it,” he shouted, “and we will not punish a free person as if they were a slave, even when they deserve it.”

“Oh, fuck and double-fuck,” muttered Major Polakov. 

“We will make our formal protest, and request for justice, and then we will all sign it. All of us. And we will send copies to every regiment and get them to sign it too. Gentlemen, he will not get away with this.”

The men started shouting in approval of his request and he looked at them. 

“You will get us all killed, Lesnev,” Alec whispered behind him. 

“We can either get killed now by the men, or later by His Majesty,” he said just as quietly. He glanced at the Majors behind him. “You don’t have to sign that request.”

“But you will,” Major Valkanof said.

“I will.” Grisha had asked his men at Nisdruna not to judge His Majesty, but had allowed them not to like his actions. Well, Vasily did not like what His Majesty had done, and he would let His Majesty know about his displeasure. 

If he lost his head over it, so be it. His conscience would be clear. 

&*&*

Grigori looked as the Quhjani rose from where they were seated the moment he finished. “We need to sacrifice for your health and make your soup,” they said before saluting him and leaving. 

“Someone needs to get that recipe for me,” he said, grinning. “And then teach me how to do it properly.”

Half his Huntsmen stood up and ran after them. 

“Maybe you should go back to your room, Sir,” Yulian told him. 

“I’m fine. Nurse Michal? What do you think?”

Michal got up, ran to him and touched his forehead lightly. “You don’t feel too warm,” he said. 

“See? My nurse says I’m fine.” He looked up at the sky. It was so blue. “I have been in that room for too long, Gentlemen. I will go back in a while, but let me enjoy the sun a little more.”

Michal sat by his feet. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“I did not understand one thing. Why did King Laurus want to take Peshav?”

“Because it was in his way.”

“In his way to where?” 

He shrugged. “Forward, I guess.”

“He was a king. Why wasn’t he happy with what he had and he had to go fighting across the East?”

Grigori smiled at him. “Some kings are like that. Look at His Majesty. He has been fighting and fighting…” he sighed. He looked at the men around him. “Vasya says this war makes sense strategically and that Bosilke needs a proper port, not those wretched bays we have up North that are frozen for most of the year.”

“You don’t agree, Sir?” Efim asked him. 

“I think he’s right, and that’s enough for me.” He really was nothing but a peasant at heart. He wanted to work the land in peace, make things grow, and let others worry about politics and wars. Others like Mark. “I just hope that he will stop after this war, although…”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Vasya says that if we want to be truly competitive with the West, we must have access to the South and that Vilnia should be the next country to become part of our Empire.” If Vasya knew it, then the Emperor would know it too. He looked at Evgeni and Carel. “What did you think of the West?”

Evgeni and Carel looked at each other. “You first,” Carel finally muttered.

Evgeni nodded. “It was different. If I am honest…”

“Yes, please.”

“I was not impressed by the palaces and the theatres and lecture rooms, but by how even the farmers looked wealthy. When we crossed Fladd by barges and then later at Aedley, I saw them. While they worked, they wore plain clothes, but when we passed their houses, they were big. When we saw them go to pray to their shrines, their good clothes were rich people’s clothes. Their shoes, they were rich people’s shoes. Hard work there meant wealth, while hard work here…” he shook his head. 

“There were poor people too,” Carel said, nudging him. 

“Yes, and we saw them begging on the streets, and read about them stealing and killing to survive or pay their gambling debts.”

“No country is perfect,” Grigori smiled. “What did you think?”

“I was impressed by how important learning is to them. They have academies and universities and,” he laughed, “coffee shops. I swear, most of the teaching happens there, with students gathering to discuss everything under the sun, and their lecturers doing the same.”

“Coffee shops,” Grigori sighed. He wouldn’t mind having some coffee at that moment. 

“Thomas likes coffee,” Evgeni sighed. “I wonder if he is well. I should have written to him, but I couldn’t. Not while we are here.”

“He’s an Ambassador. He will be fine.” Carel touched his arm. “The worst thing that Francis can do to him is expel him from the country.” 

Grigori nodded. 

Evgeni nodded as well, although he still looked miserable. “How long till the Captain gets here so he can form a team?”

Yulian smiled. “We have been sending everything Urgent, so he should receive His Majesty’s message in two days.”

“So, he will be here in ten days?” Evgeni asked.

Grigori and Yulian smiled. “I doubt that,” Grigori said. “There are plenty of men in the Capital who can do this. Instead of wasting his time on a trip here, he will form the team there so they can be at Ustvela within the next two weeks.” He was more worried about Vasya disobeying orders and leading the team, but he hoped that his duty towards His other Majesty would stop him from doing something so… he grinned. He was about to think foolish and dangerous, but he had been determined to do that himself. 

“I would like to join them, Sir.”

“Michal?”

“You said it yourself, you need me to teach your men how to speak Ustvelan like we do. Who will do it for the Captain’s men?”

“Michal, Vasya’s team will go straight to Ustvela. Going there will be dangerous for you.”

“Only if someone recognises me, and who would?”

“What about the people from your village? Didn’t they know that you were stationed at the Capital? Won’t they have heard that you defected by now?”

Michal stared at him. “I want to see my home, Sir. And make sure that… I dreamt of more crows, Sir,” he whispered with a stricken expression. “Please?”

Fyodor and Kuzma shared a look. “We could go with Michal, Sir, and….”

“Support him,” Grigori said with a smile. 

“Yes, Sir,” Fyodor and Kuzma grinned. “Support him.”

Grigori looked at his men. “Let’s play a game, Gentlemen. Which is the fastest way to Ustvela from the Capital? When and where would it make more sense to intercept Vasya’s team so that Michal, Fyodor, and Kuzma can join them?” He grinned. “You must take the following into consideration: Vasya will send someone ahead to prepare for a change of horses and other necessities the day he receives His Majesty’s message, and that he will have a team ready within two days. You know how efficient he is,” he smiled. 

His men all nodded, and so did the wolf cubs. 

“With your permission, I think I would like to go back to my room now. I will see you at lunch.”

Michal jumped to his feet and helped him up. “Thank you, Sir,” he whispered. 

“No, thank you, Michal.” He didn’t tell him that everything would be fine; Michal was too worried to listen to that. No, it was better to just send him back and hope that everything would be fine. 

How he too wanted to go home. 

&*&*

The moment Elik was at the garden right behind Ivanhof, he was greeted by the Guards. Some of whom were glaring at him. No, at Mark. 

Before he could speak, Sila broke out from the group, moved forward and punched Mark in the face. 

“What are you doing?” he shouted. If his own Guards were after Mark’s blood, could he really protect him?

“Nothing more than what he deserves, Sire,” Sila spat out. “If it were anyone else, I would have killed him.” He stood proud in front of them. “Punish me as you will, Sire, but do not ask me to say I am sorry or repent, because I am not sorry at all.” 

Andrik nodded. “Be glad you are the Captain’s cousin, Sir.” 

Elik looked at them. He should punish them, but how? 

Mark wiped his bloody nose. “You are right, I deserve this.”

Elik offered him his handkerchief. “Your nose is still bleeding. Sila, Andrik, how could you? He is your superior office.”

“His actions caused my Captain to be punished unjustly.” Sila stared at him. “I am happy to accept any punishment for my behaviour, but know this, Sire. If I were not sworn to protect you, I would be riding to the Barracks to see my brothers now, and demand justice for my Captain.”

Elik took a deep breath. “Your punishment should be left to your Captain. I will let him decide. So, you know what is going on?”

“Not officially,” Roman whispered. Being Roman, his whisper was quite loud.

Elik smiled. “So, unofficially? Just so I know before I go meet…” he glanced towards the palace, where he knew the ministers would be waiting. 

“Unofficially,” Kornei said, “Everyone has gathered at the Reds’ Barracks to discuss how to address the injustice done to our Captain.”

“So, this is not a mutiny?”

One of Vasya’s Quartermasters, whom he still couldn’t tell apart, nor distinguish in a crowd except when they were in uniform, like at that moment, stepped forward. “No, Sire.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I should go see the Ministers now, and get the official version. Thank you.” He glanced at Mark, tilting his head back and holding the bloody handkerchief against his nose. “And please, no more punching people, especially the Chancellor. He knows that what he did was wrong.”

Mark nodded slightly. “I do,” he whined miserably. “And I am so sorry.” He looked at them, even though lowering his head made more blood stain the cloth between his fingers. “They are your captains, but they are my family. How do you think I feel knowing that my actions hurt them?”

Some of the men continued glaring at Mark, so Elik nodded. “He is not lying. If you should be angry at someone, be at His Majesty. He is the one who gave that fucking order.” Elik spat on the ground. His Majesty was to blame, not Mark, and he was the one who had betrayed him. Oh, it was such a good thing they had decided not to wait for his command! “I will protest formally,” he told them, “and get the ministers to sign too.”

“Hurrah to the Regent.”

Elik nodded. “I will see you all later. Chancellor.” He hurried inside and went straight to the Council Meeting room, ignoring all the worried glances that the courtiers directed at him as he walked.   
Just as he expected, they were all gathered there. “Gentlemen, what news do you have?”

Duke Okdranov was the first to speak. “Men from all the Regiments have gathered at the Barracks of the Reds to discuss an injustice.” He took a deep breath. “Your Majesty, I too share the outrage of my men. Have you heard the news?”

Elik nodded.

“Then you know what a legend Lesnev is. How could His Majesty do something…” He looked furious. “I want to protest formally against the unjust punishment of my subordinate.”

“Good. I too want to protest,” Elik told him. “Do you agree?”

“Well, of course,” Duke Vladimirov nodded. “Even His Majesty cannot be above the law, and the law says that no punishment greater than ten lashes can be administered by a Master without inquest, trial, and judgement. That he ordered Lesnev to be punished like that is in violation of our laws.”

“There should be no such punishment in the first place,” Duke Andrejevich said passionately. “I will protest as well.”

Duke Theissen sighed. “Mavra will kill me,” he muttered, hiding his face behind his hands and groaning. 

Elik looked at Mark curiously.

“Mavra is his wife, and… she doesn’t like Lesnev,” Mark whispered. “Dima, you don’t have to sign that protest with us, but is that what you want to do?”

“You need to stop pleasing her in all things,” Duke Vladimirov said.

“That is why you are not married and live with Zuzu,” Duke Theissen told him. “I love her. I want to make her happy.”

Elik sat down and they mimicked him. “That is most admirable, but protesting about this unlawful and unjust punishment is more important than keeping Her Grace happy.” Yes, he had to show His Husband that he was most displeased with him. 

Duke Theissen looked at him miserably instead of replying. 

So, he wouldn’t sign. Fine, they could protest without him. 

“Fuck,” Mark suddenly said. 

“Yes?”

“If we protest, and I am more than happy to protest, do we need to explain to His Majesty that we knew that Lesnev was there, when he was not supposed to be? And that we know why he was there? And how His Majesty rejected his plan?”

Elik stared at him. So did the others. “Can’t we just say that we all agree that it was wrong and unjust and pretend we don’t know anything else?” He grimaced. “Wait, that means that I can’t protest either that I am upset that he wants to let Francis kill me?”

Mark nodded. 

“Fuck,” he growled. “That is not fair. Because I am upset. No, I am more than upset. I am angry. And hurt. Both, at the same time! How can this be?” he cried out.

Msrk opened his mouth but a knock stopped him.

“Enter,” Elik shouted. He wanted to protest! This was not fair at all. 

A man in a red uniform with lieutenant’s stripes walked in. He saluted Elik, glared at Mark, put a sealed scroll in front of him and glared again. 

“What is this?” Elik asked as Mark looked at the scroll. 

“Your Majesty, we, the Reds, have agreed based on the evidence presented to us that the Chancellor’s actions of withholding information have resulted to the unjust treatment of an officer. That is a punishable offence in our regiment.”

Mark froze. “Help,” he mouthed at Elik.

He nodded. “And?”

“As his punishment, we have unanimously decided to relieve the Chancellor of command for the next month and to penalize him with the building of a new Riding Hall for the regiment.”

“What?” Mark gasped. 

The other ministers also looked shocked at that.

“Is that normal?” Elik asked the lieutenant. “You may speak freely.”

“Freely, Sire?”

“Yes.”

“Well… I would have preferred to see the Chancellor’s head on a spike,” he growled, “but the Major reminded us that we the Reds are a fair and just regiment, and that our Captain had abolished corporal punishment years ago.” The man glowered. “With your permission, Sire.”

“Wait, wait. I have one more question. What will you do about His Majesty? He was the one who gave the order to punish Grisha. Doesn’t he deserve to be punished… well… have something done to him?”

The Ministers stared at him.

“I speak the truth,” Elik protested. “He deserves to be punished somehow.” He suddenly grinned. If Nikolaj thought he would get into his bed before begging for his forgiveness, he was sorely mistaken. Unless, he sighed… Unless Francis did kill him. 

Duke Okdranov groaned. “Not that,” he muttered. 

The lieutenant smiled slowly. “Oh, we have decided to protest formally, Sire. But first we need to sign the document with our protest and request, and then deliver a copy for the archives.”

“If you are protesting, then so will I,” Elik said, nodding. “And you will protest with me,” he said to the ministers, making Duke Theissen sigh dejectedly. 

“What request?” Duke Okdranov asked. 

“First, to have the disciplinary action taken off Lesnev’s record.”

Duke Okdranov nodded. “Consider that done.”

“Secondly, that His Majesty must write a report of his actions, an admittance of his guilt, and his repentance for his unjust behavior that he must then send to every regiment and auxiliary unit to be read out loud, and then submitted to the archives. If any regiment does not accept his apology, then he must do it again.”

“His Majesty won’t like it,” Duke Andrejevich muttered. 

“The Major says he takes full responsibility for this request if His Majesty doesn’t like it. His Majesty had better like it, Sire, or else,” he raised his hand and made a cutting motion in front of his throat.

“You will mutiny?” Duke Okdranov asked, shocked. 

“No one is above the law. No one. Not even He Who is the Living Embodiment of Our Empire. Sire,” he saluted him. 

“I have a question,” Mark said, surprisingly looking amused. “The Major, it wouldn’t be Lesnev, would it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Mark nodded. “Thank you. You may go.”

The lieutenant glared at him. “You are not my commander for the next thirty days, Sir. You cannot order me.”

Elik smiled. “That is true. Please, bring a copy of your protest and request for Us to sign as well. Your demands are just and We agree with them. His Majesty must learn that he is not above the law.”

“Sire, I was hoping you would say that.” With a smile, he took out a scroll and placed it in front of Elik. 

He dipped his quill in ink and signed immediately under the text. “There. Elik. I R,” he grinned. That would show Nikolaj that he was his equal in all things – even if they were not one mind in two bodies. They would never be that, would they? “Chancellor?”

Mark signed the document immediately and passed it to Duke Okdranov. He signed and gave it to Duke Vladimirov, who gave it to Duke Andrejevich after adding his signature. Duke Theissen looked at the scroll. “You will explain this to Mavra,” he told them as he picked up the quill.

“I will,” Mark said. 

“And I take full responsibility for this,” Elik said. “Tell that to Lesnev,” he smiled. He had his brother’s back. 

With a grateful smile, the man took the scroll the moment the ink was dry, saluted them and left. 

“His Majesty will be most displeased,” Duke Andrevejic sighed. 

“So what?” Elik started laughing. “We need to start that bet. Who will get me first? Francis? The Barianins? The Milkiutins? Or His Majesty?” He stopped when he saw how horrified the Ministers looked. Only Mark’s expression differed, and he couldn’t understand it. 

“Gentlemen,” he told them, “I have one life to live and I am living it for my friends, for my country, and for myself. Right now, my friends need me, and I will stand by them. My country needs everyone to live according to its laws, and I will uphold this truth. And if I do not support my friends, or the laws of my country, then how can I live with myself?”

Mark glanced at the others. Then he stood up. “I will drink to friendship,” he said, grinning as he went to a cabinet, opened it, and brought out wine and glasses. 

Elik smiled. “I will drink as well, but also to a country where all the laws are obeyed. By everyone, no matter how high or low they are.”

Duke Vladimirov nodded. “To a country ruled by law.”

“And to its Regent,” Duke Andrejevich smiled. “May he change His Majesty.”

“And maybe talk to Mavra?” Duke Theissen asked. 

&*&*

Maxim had expected this question to come, but had not expected that anyone would manage to show so much restraint as to wait until they had all finished their late lunch. 

“Sila, how could you?” Roman asked him loudly. “Punching a superior officer. You will be disciplined.”

“You would do the same if the Chancellor’s actions had hurt the Captain.”

Leonid frowned. “The Chancellor’s actions have hurt the Captain. Only they have hurt the Major more.”

“Yes, but the Captain and the Chancellor are family,” Roman said. 

“So?” Peter the Tall snorted. “You mean, if Vanya had done something that got Stepan hurt, you’d let him get away with it?”

“I wouldn’t.” Roman smiled grimly. “No, I would beat him up. But I wouldn’t like it if someone else had.” 

Stepan nodded. “I would do the same,” he whispered.

“Do you think the Chancellor is sorry?”

“He did lock himself in the Captain’s office for hours.”

“Perhaps he wanted to read all the letters that were there,” Vadim said from the door. “I so wanted to punch that man,” he growled as he took his seat. “Getting my Captain punished.”

“I think the Young Lord is right,” Maxim said. “We should be angrier at His Majesty.” 

“I never expected to see him so angry at his husband,” Stepan said quietly. 

Roman nodded. 

“If we are right, and the Major’s mission was to stop the leader of the assassins…” Bram said.

“Francis the Fiend,” Peter the Short shouted. “You can say it.”

“Yes, him,” Bram continued, “then, wouldn’t you be mad if you heard that your husband did not like the idea?” He snorted. 

“His Majesty just abandoned his husband,” Kornei said seriously, and they all went quiet.

Maxim looked at the plate of cheese in the middle of the table while Vadim and Boyan were served the first course. He had a most horrible thought and took a piece of bread to stuff his mouth before he could say it. 

“This is sad,” Stepan sighed. “How was it for you when His Majesty married His Majesty? For us, it was strange and abhorrent. How could one of us marry one of you?”

Roman smiled at Stepan and caressed his hand. 

“What do you mean?” Peter the Tall asked him curiously. 

“I mean, the Young Lord was supposed to come here, and sacrifice himself for us. He was not supposed to find love or happiness with …” he stared at them “I will say it,” he said as he stood up and spoke up loudly. “Until recently, we all called His Majesty ‘The Monster’, because he had attacked us without reason, defeated us in battle, and wanted to make slaves of us. How could anyone fall in love with a monster?”

Stepan continued, a little more quietly, “Yet, he did, and, soon after, we were allowed to be as free as we were, with our only obligation to supply His Majesty’s army with men and pay taxes, starting from next year. His Majesty was still the Monster, but our Young Lord was not Our Sacrifice anymore, he was one of our Elders again, doing what he could for our country.” He smiled at Roman and Roman smiled back.

“When he came back, almost half a year ago, and you were with him, we still continued calling His Majesty ‘the Monster’, but we could see that you were not monsters. You were just like us, and suddenly, the Young Lord’s marriage did not seem abhorrent but a blessing. It is so sad to see that he really did marry a monster after all,” Stepan said with a deep sigh as he sat down. 

Maxim stared at Stepan. He had no idea about anything, it seemed. Everyone had seemed to welcome them at Jedlowa, and they had had so much fun when they had first arrived there, and had made so many friends. He hadn’t felt for a moment that anyone thought him a monster. 

“For us, it was different,” Valery broke the silence. “Ah, Evgeni would say this so much better,” he smiled. “For us, it was the most wonderful and strange thing that could happen. Our Most High Emperor, the Most Mighty and Noble, had fallen in love with someone he shouldn’t have, a….” He stopped. “I am sorry if this will offend you, Stepan, but we really didn’t know any better at the time.” 

“I won’t be,” Stepan promised. 

“He’d fallen in love with not just a war-caught bride, but one that came from a poor country, without court, without refinement.” He smiled a little. “A country where they valued things in horses,” he snorted. 

“It was like something out of a fairy tale, or a romance,” Sila grinned. “You wouldn’t believe how many women swooned in my arms as I told them about this mysterious Majesty, who was even prettier than what rumours said, sang rather than spoke Bosilik, and was so very eager to be f… greatly pleased by His Majesty.”

Maxim laughed. “Hares in spring mated less often than them.” His expression fell. “I honestly thought His Majesty was in love with the Young Lord. Especially after the way they acted at Sorain.” He looked at Stepan. “Perhaps you were right all along. His Majesty is a monster.” Only a monster could profess love, and then do nothing for his husband. 

“Maxim, how can you say that?” he heard from various directions. 

“I agree,” Vadim said as he pushed his empty plate aside. “Any officer who punishes a subordinate who is going beyond his duty is a monster, and….” He sighed miserably.

“What?”

“Lieutenant Balin told me what happened at the Barracks and … we both agreed that, if it were up to us, we would want to see the Chancellor and His Majesty dead.”

Everyone gasped. Even Maxim, even though he knew very well how devoted the Major’s men were to him, and he just had thought that perhaps their Young Lord would be a better Majesty than His Majesty. Even Sila gasped at that, who was one of the Major’s men. Unless he gasped not because of how surprising and shocking the words were, but because someone had dared say what he thought.

Vadim took a deep breath. “And we both agreed that we are not worthy of our Captain,” he cried out. “We shouldn’t have needed the Major to remind us that obedience to the law is what separates free from slaves, and that we must be just and fair even to those who don’t deserve it.” He looked at them. “If we, who thought we knew better, were so ready to be unjust, what hope is there for anyone else?”

“But you followed justice in the end, didn’t you?” Stepan asked him. “Then, there is hope.”

Vadim sighed, instead of replying. 

Sila stood up. “Has everyone signed the copy of the protest and request that Balin brought? If so, I would like to take it to the Barracks of the Reds, and add the document with our signatures to those of our brothers-in-arms.”

Vadim stood up as well. “I will join you.”

Maxim smiled. He too wanted to join them, but they still had to protect His Majesty. There could be assassins everywhere! “Tell the Captain that we are holding the fort for him!”

&*&*

Sila was not surprised at how, even outside of the Great Hall where the Reds had their lunches and dinners, they could still hear the noise coming from the shooting range. “Everyone seems to still be here,” he told Vadim.

Vadim nodded. “Can you blame them? And tomorrow, there will be more men here. If I were stationed within a day or two from the Capital, I wouldn’t stay at my Barracks after receiving this,” he said, nodding towards the case he was holding. 

“No, me neither.” He grimaced. How he wished he were still at his old Regiment so he could join his brothers instead of staying at Ivanhof with the Young Lord. 

Together, they walked up the stairs and into the Great Hall, and found it only slightly quieter. Groups of men were gathered around the tables, talking as they had tea and nibbled. 

“It looks like a big and serious tea party,” Sila grinned. 

“Hello, Vadim, long time, no see,” someone shouted laughingly.

“Vadim? Where?” 

“Is that Sila? Brother!”

Within moments they were both surrounded by their friends from the trips. They hugged and grinned at each other for a second. 

“I’ll start,” Vadim said. “Sila, meet Georgi, Alexi, Prokop, Vlad, and Vlas.”

“Pleased to meet you. Vadim, here are Mitya, Filimon, Gera, Rasya, Elistrat, and Narcisse.”

“Nice to meet you too. I see you have everything under control?”

Georgi nodded. “Have you eaten anything? We got the kitchens in all the regiments working overtime,” he laughed. “You know the Cook. He wouldn’t rest until he was certain we all had food.”

“And tea,” Mitya said. “I was in the trip last year too, and he was missed. We did try to persuade him to share his secret recipe for his special punch but…”

Sila hit him. “Are you an idiot? He’s worried about his husband. You can’t expect him to be mixing drinks at this time.”

“We thought it might cheer him up,” Rasya said, looking sheepish.

Vlad nodded. “Or make him tired enough to retire,” he whispered. 

“Majors Smith and Gleganovic have already told him that he doesn’t have to wait until everyone has signed, but he’s so stubborn,” Vlas added. 

“How will we face the Captain if anything happens to him?” Narcisse asked them, looking worried. 

“Perhaps you can talk to him?” Alexi suggested. 

“We’ll try,” Vadim promised for both of them. 

Sila nodded. 

“Will you stay a while?”

“No, the situation at Ivanhof is not great.”

“Is it true, that Francis wants to kill His Majesty?”

Sila and Vadim looked at each other. Vadim shrugged. “You said it.”

“Do you need help?” Georgi asked immediately. “We can get permission to join you at Ivanhof, and support you.”

“Yes, half of your team is still en route, right?”

Sila nodded. 

“If the Captain agrees, who are we to say ‘no’?” Vadim said. 

“Fine, let’s ask then,” Prokop grinned as he took Vadim by the arm and led him to the table where the Majors were collecting the documents. Elistrat followed them.

“Sir,” Vadim said after saluting, “His Majesty’s Special Guards also want to protest and see the injustice addressed.” He put down the scroll case. “His Majesty is collecting signatures among the courtiers,” he smiled. 

“Thank you,” their Captain smiled back and crossed out something in the document in front of him, as did Major Soljenikin, who was sitting to his left. 

Their Captain did look like shit, Sila realized. No wonder the others had been worried about him. Fuck, how could he… He took a deep breath. He was no coward. “Sir, I have something to report.”

“Yes, Sila?”

“I punched the Chancellor on the face.”

Major Smith, who was to the right of the Captain, laughed. “Finally, someone did it.”

Their Captain huffed with amusement. “Understandable reaction, under the circumstances, however, I expect this not to be repeated.”

“No, Sir.”

“I mean it,” he continued, looking behind Sila. “Reason separates us from beasts, and obedience to the laws commonly made and accepted is what keeps us from becoming beasts again. We are not beasts, Gentlemen, nor will we allow ourselves to become that.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.”

“His Majesty said you were to discipline me for my action.”

Their Captain smiled tiredly. “Well…. You did punch a superior officer, but I would prefer to have your punishment deferred until after we know that His Majesty is safe, and so, I want you to continue with your duties for now.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, Prokop?”

“It has come to our attention that you require additional security at the Palace. Ordinarily, the Reds would provide this support, but,” he looked at Major Smith, “I doubt we will do this under the circumstances. So, with your permission, we, who have been trained by the Captain, would like to join the Imperial Guards and the Regular Ivanhof Guards and help them protect His Majesty.”

Their Captain looked at Major Smith. “Alec?”

“I’m fine with that, if you are.”

“I would appreciate the help. We would need another 140 men.” He grinned. “I would like to increase the number of Imperial Guards to 200, so this is a good opportunity to see how that can work.”

“Yes, Sir,” Prokop said. “I will let the others know and we will select 140 from among us. Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Do these 140 men need to be blond?” Elistrat asked. 

The Captain laughed. “No, but they should be discreet. When you have selected your men, please have them report to my office. Sergei… I mean, Quartermaster Sokolov will instruct them on their duties.”

Sila and Vadim stayed there even after Prokop and Elistrat left.

“Yes, Gentlemen?”

“Don’t you think you should get some rest? Sir?”

“At last, someone said it plainly,” Major Smith laughed. “Listen to your men, since you are not listening to me, Lesnev.” He glanced at Major Soljenikin. With a nod, they stood up, grabbed Lesnev by the arms and pulled him up. “Gentlemen, take this man either to his office or Major Lesnev’s.”

“I’m fine,” their Captain protested. 

“Yes, and if you dare show your face down here again, I will have you forcibly dragged to the…” Major Soljenikin frowned. “Somewhere.”

“But I am fine.”

Sila looked at Vadim. “Sir, last time you were fine like that, you had a bullet extracted out of you,” Sila said. Together with Vadim, they grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the table. 

“But I am really well,” he protested as he dragged his feet and tried to free himself from them.

“Sir, the Major was punished on the 20th. Allowing for a day of rest, that means that the Major is now on his way back here and,” Vadim said, “if he is travelling by horse, which is likely because he is…” Vadim cut himself off before saying that the Captain was a Beast, “he should be here in two days at the most. Do you want him to find you in bed with exhaustion?”

“And how will we face him if he finds you like that?” Sila added. 

The Captain chuckled. “Fine. Stop pulling me. I’ll come peacefully.”

“Good, that is all we want,” they both said. 

“Ah, the things I do for you, Grishka,” he murmured as if he were being forced to do something unpleasant instead of going to bed. 

Vadim winked at him. True, the Captain was a Beast when it came to shouting and ignoring all discomfort, but his husband was his match in stubbornness. 

&*&*

Grigori opened his eyes. “What time is it?” he whispered. He hated sleeping in the middle of the day both in the summer and in the winter. One could never tell the time when one woke up, unless one checked a watch. 

“A little after six.”

“Oh.” He sat up. “I guess I am still a little unwell,” he said quietly. He’d slept for more than four hours. That never happened when he was well. 

Michal nodded, looking a little smug. 

“Tea?” Evgeni asked.

“Yes, please. Thank you.” He studied Carel. “It’s the 26th today, isn’t it?” He had been losing days all these days. 

“Yes, Sir.”

So, Vasya probably had received his letter from the 19th already, and would be expecting him to be on his way back. He sighed.

“Sir?”

“I am wondering if maybe I should have written to Vasya on the 20th. He will be so worried when he only gets your letter.”

Carel looked away. 

He sighed and ignored it. Carel was hiding something; had they sent more than one letter? They could have. His men here had certainly written to his men there, so why not to Vasya? “I wonder if he will reply to that. Probably not.” In Vasya’s place, he wouldn’t. He’d wait to find out if… He sighed deeply. “I really want to punch His Majesty,” he muttered. Making him ill and keeping him away from both his duties and his Vasya. 

Carel frowned. “Sir?

“Nothing. Pretend you didn’t hear this.”

Evgeni came in at that moment. 

“Sir,” Carel asked as Evgeni approached and gave him a mug of a warm, herbal infusion, “Why are you so loyal to His Majesty?”

“Because I swore an oath to obey him when I joined the army. Didn’t you?”

“Yes, but… you said, over and over, that one must not obey without thinking. Why do you, when he clearly doesn’t deserve it?”

“Because he saved our lives. As long as we live, I owe him, and I will be loyal to him, no matter what he does.”

“Really?” Evgeni frowned, clearly not believing him.

“Really.” He looked at his drink. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he told them. How could he? 

He didn’t want to think back on those dark days, when the only thing worse than being sick and helpless when he could hear but not respond, and Vasya cried next to him, was when he opened his eyes and saw Vasya’s bright smile and his reddened eyes. How much he had hated himself for making Vasya cry when he had sworn to never hurt him. 

And yet…. Wasn’t it in those dark days that he truly fell in love with Vasya? He had already known that Vasya was stubborn, yet it was in those days that he had learned that his Vasya was not a boy anymore, and that his sweet, gentle manners hid a fierce determination. How much he had fallen in love with that proud steel; more than with the precious, flexible gold. 

And how much loved he had felt in return. Those were the first days he’d felt Vasya’s whole being focused on him. There had been times when he’d been tempted to give up and die, and free Vasya of the wretched life he had forced on him, but Vasya was so insistent that he live, that in the end he’d found it easier to surrender to Vasya’s will than to his misery. 

He suddenly smiled at them. “I owe him for saving us, and even if I died today, I would not regret my loyalty to him. Vasya and I, we’ve had a good life so far, and it was all thanks to His Majesty. You understand now?”

Carel and Evgeni frowned. “Not really,” Carel said. 

Ah, how he wished Vasya were there. He could explain it better. He tried again. “If you plant a tree, and it grows strong and healthy, it will continue to bear fruits even after you are gone. My loyalty is like that tree. His Majesty gave it the means to grow, and now the only way to stop it, it’s to cut it down.” They looked like they didn’t understand. How else could he explain himself? “The only thing that can make me be disloyal, is if he hurts Vasya. As long as I have him, I can tolerate anything and I will be grateful to His Majesty for giving us a life together.”

Evgeni’s eyes filled with tears. Carel looked stunned. Even Michal sighed a little. 

“What?” he huffed. 

“Until now, I had not fully understood why the Captain keeps saying that love is wonderful,” Evgeni sniffled. “People should write stories about you.”

He chuckled. “I hope not. I wouldn’t give a fuck, but Vasya would be so embarrassed. He’s really shy, you know.”

Carel and Evgeni looked at him with disbelief again. 

He nodded. “He is.”

“Sir, have you been to any party he organized?” Carel asked him, stunned. “He is not shy.”

He let it slide, since it was clear they would never believe him. “Speaking of parties, can you tell me the story with the cow that you took up on a roof?” 

“Oh, that!” Evgeni laughed. “Carel, may I start?”

&*&*

Since whatever was happening at the Barracks of the Reds was not a mutiny, Elik had agreed to the Ministers’ suggestion to continue the day as if it were just a regular day. Yet, so clearly it wasn’t. The courtiers had shown up for their late, late lunch, but most of the Ladies had begged to be excused from their usual afternoon tea and the Ministers had proposed allowing each courtier to have dinner on their own. Not that he could blame them. Their afternoon tea would be at dinner time, and even he was not having tea, but dinner! 

“I am surprised they all seem to have signed this,” he told Lady Ekaterina when she brought him the copy of the protest and request to His Majesty.

She took her place at the table, facing Mark. “I am not. Not really.”

Elik looked at them. “Has His Majesty done this before? Punish someone so unjustly?”

Lady Ekaterina glanced at Mark. He nodded. “After he discovered that box with the notes,” she started, “he was just so horrible.”

“He would carry a light whip everywhere and would crack it in the air all the time.” Mark sighed. “He kept saying he would have us whipped just like he whipped his servants. Which he did. All the time, and for no reason.”

Elik was horrified. What had His Husband been thinking? Or rather, what had he been doing?

“And he banned us from having any entertainments and coming at court. For months. We were stuck in our houses, all alone, and did not dare meet any of our friends, because we were afraid of what he would do to us.”

Elik smiled. Boredom! Lady Ekaterina’s greatest enemy and fear, and Nikolaj had made her bored. For months! 

She pouted. “It was so utterly and unimaginably horrible, Sire.”

“I can believe that,” he said. “Boredom is the enemy of every court, and for someone as bright as you, it must have been so very horrible. I am so sorry that you suffered through that.”

“At last, now you are back, Sire, and you will make things better, won’t you?”

“I hope so.” He looked at them. “Do you think His Majesty will be really displeased with this?”

“Yes,” Mark said, “but what can he do? He can’t kill everyone. No, at worst, he will kill Vasya, who is so clearly behind this, and exile you. And us.” He sighed. “Or maybe kill us too.”

“I don’t care,” said Lady Ekaterina. “I would prefer exile to death, though,” she smiled. 

“What would you do, if you were in exile?”

“Do I still have my property?” she asked. 

“You’re in exile,” Mark smiled. “You have lost your property because the property of traitors is confiscated and goes to the Crown.”

“Oh, yes,” she sighed before grinning. “Then, if I were poor and in exile, I would be…. Oh, that is so difficult, because I could be so many things! I am great at keeping dogs, and playing cards, and reading books out loud…. Oh, I know. I could be a Lady’s Companion, and keep her from being bored.”

Elik smiled. Yes, he was certain that she would be an excellent Lady’s Companion. She was the best companion he’d had in court, after all. “Mark, what would you be?”

“First you, Sire,” Lady Ekaterina said, still smiling. 

“Ah, I would be a singer. With at least one bodyguard, because Valery thinks that I would be famous, and I would need one, so he volunteered.”

Lady Ekaterina clapped her hands. “Then I would be your companion, because you’d need someone to keep you from being bored when you are not performing.”

“That would be most excellent. And maybe Vasya could be my cook and Grisha my gardener?” His smile fell. “Would His Majesty really kill Vasya for this?”

“Maybe.” Mark took out his notebook and wrote something. Then he walked out of the room and came back moments later. 

“What was that?”

“I just wrote to Nikolaj that he broke Our Rule. He made Vasya sad. That might make him think twice.”

Elik was curious about that, but decided not to ask. “I think he made Vasya mad,” he laughed. 

Mark laughed as well. “You are right, Sire. Ah, do you know how expensive Riding Halls are? Grisha has been asking for one for two years now, and I keep telling him to be happy with the one we have.”

“They cost less than the summer palace we built a few years ago,” Lady Ekaterina said. 

“Yes, but I wanted to build a new one. Where I could have cats.”

“Cats?” Lady Ekaterina asked loudly, surprised. 

Elik smiled. “So, Mark, what would you be? You still haven’t told me,” he said, changing the subject. 

“I would be…. I should do something so I could join all of you, it seems, but I don’t know what. My plans did not involve being in your household, Sire.”

“No? So, what were they?”

“Sire, I will be honest. I am only good at two things. Law and being a pervert. Since practicing law is not as fun as being a pervert, I would have liked running an Orgy Hall.”

“What?” he and Lady Ekaterina both shouted. 

“It makes perfect sense. With my knowledge, I would make sure that everyone was happy,” he grinned. 

Lady Ekaterina’s eyes shone. “Maybe, I could come decorate it? When I was not being a companion?”

“It won’t happen,” he told them. “Sire, you stole my cook/manager and my enforcer. How will I run it without them?”

Elik felt his eyes widen. “What if we joined forces? I could sing at your Orgy Hall, and we could all…” He stopped when he realized how they shocked they seemed. “What? I will be a disgraced, exiled Empress. I might as well be as disgraceful and disreputable as possible,” he laughed. “It’s better than begging other kings for food. And we should get Maxim to help. He is….” He had no words to describe Maxim! 

Mark nodded. “He is…”

Lady Ekaterina frowned. “He is what?”

“My Lady, have you heard the story of the King who liked to play jokes, and the joke that was played on him?”

“No.”

“Then, I will tell it to you,” Elik smiled. 

Anything from thinking how his husband was such a…. when he found the right swear word, he would use it! 

&*&*

“We really hope the Captain is on his way,” Vadim said once he was finished telling them everything Sila and he had seen and heard at the Barracks of the Reds. 

“The Captain may speak of reason as much as he wants,” Sila agreed, “but the Reds still want blood.”

“And so do the Huntsmen. If anything happens to our Captain…” Vadim made a cutting gesture across his neck. 

“Could the Captain be in danger?” Maxim asked them, looking worried. 

“I doubt it. He is the Major’s husband. No one would dare touch him,” Jan said with uncertainty in his voice, making his last sentence sound like a question rather than a statement. 

Sila nodded. “And he is Our Cook.”

“What does that even mean?” Stepan asked quietly. “There have been two trips without him.”

“Yes,” Vadim agreed, “and these men only know his reputation, but we who know him, we will stand by whatever he does.”

“And I suspect the Reds will do as well,” Leonid suddenly smiled. “He is their Captain’s husband, and everyone knows him well there.”

“I had served with him at his previous regiment,” Peter the Tall smiled, “and when he was there, he would be having half his lunches and dinners at the Reds’ Barracks. Only when he came to serve under   
this Majesty did he stop going there so often.”

Roman studied them. “What you are saying is,” he said as he stood up and stared at them all, “you want the Captain to lead the Reds and the others trained by the Major to mutiny, if anything happens to him.”

Filon watched as Vadim, Sila, Bram, Valery, Cornei, Seryozha, and Andrik shared a look. So, these were the Huntsmen among them. 

Valery stood up. “Well, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? Who else could lead us but he who has helped shape our Captain’s vision, and knows our Captain’s heart?”

“And him whom our Captain trusts more than anyone else?” Cornei said. 

“What about our Young Lord?” Peter the Short gasped, voicing the concern of many. 

“We will still need an Emperor,” Valery said in a low voice. 

“Who better than the one who is our Brother?” Sila asked them seriously. 

Andrik nodded. “And who is Brother to our Captain?”

Filon stood up. “Brothers, I have no appetite anymore. With your permission.”

Stepan sighed. “Maybe we should all pray it does not come to that?” he asked them quietly, studying Filon and Artyom, who had mimicked him in standing up. 

Artyom nodded. 

Valery approached Sila, and Andrik, Cornei, Bram and Sergei joined them. They discussed something for a few moments. 

“Brothers,” Valery told them, “If it comes to that, we will not be able to protect the Chancellor. We can give him time to leave, but… he will be hunted.”

“Unless the Captain is really persuasive and manages to stop the Reds from tearing him apart,” Vadim whispered. 

“Indeed,” Quartermaster Sokolov told them from the door of the Mess Hall. “We should all offer some incense first, and then…” he looked at Filon and Artyom. “Your duties from now on are to Guard the Chancellor, not His Majesty. If it comes to that, though… I…” He thought for a few moments. “I will allow you to do as your conscience dictates. If you would rather follow the Chancellor, I will accept that, and will not report you as defectors, but rather as men loyal to the old regime.”

“May I think about this? Artyom?”

“Yes, can we?”

Quartermaster Sokolov nodded with a smile. “Of course. Gentlemen, should we pray, as Stepan has suggested? Our Captains would not want that to pass, after all.”

Artyom touched his hand. “I like the Chancellor, but I would not betray our brothers for a man who takes other lovers.”

Filon smiled. “You like him.”

“His wife is fun too.” He smiled shyly. “And I think I like you too. A bit more than I thought a month ago.”

Hm. “I must say, it is better when you fuck someone you know. It feels better.” He really didn’t care if the Chancellor took other lovers, and he was not sure how he felt about Artyom, but he did like him more than he had a month ago. “And I share the sentiment,” he smiled back. “I like you more now than before.”

“Then, should we talk about it afterwards?”

He nodded. How he hoped it wouldn’t come to choosing between his Brothers and the Chancellor and his wife. He had no idea whom he would choose, especially since he felt that their Captain would want the Chancellor safe. Wouldn’t it be his duty then to save the Chancellor from their Brothers?

&*&*

Elik opened the door to his own bedroom. All his misery came back to him the moment he was alone, completely alone. How could Nikolaj have done that to him? After so many vows and so many sweet words. How could he? 

He fell on bed and wished Vasya were there. He would know why His Husband had done that to him. And even if he didn’t know, he’d still be there to hug him. And he would be able to hug him back and tell him how fortunate he was that he had someone as marvellous as Grisha as his husband, and that His Husband was the most …

He still couldn’t think of a swear word that was good enough to describe Nikolaj. 

Really, if Nikolaj decided that their protest and request were unacceptable, and punished them for it, he wouldn’t care at all. His brother and his friends were more important. If he were to go down for them and with them, he would do it. 

He started crying, feeling hurt and betrayed. How could Nikolaj have done that to him?

Perhaps Irina had been right all along; his husband was not worthy of him. 

&*&*

Ekaterina sat at the edge of the bed when she finished undressing and was wearing only her chemise. “I can’t believe Nikolaj would do this to us. To all of us.”

Mark sat next to her. “I messed up so badly,” he sighed. “I….”

A knock on the door cut him off. Frowning, he went to open it. “What are you doing here?” he asked Filon and Artyom. 

“Well…” They shared a look. 

“If you want to punch me, go ahead,” he told them and stood still, waiting for the blow. 

“Mark,” Ekaterina gasped. 

“I deserve it,” he said miserably. “It’s the truth.”

“Oh, shut up,” Filon sighed, while Artyom pushed him back inside and let Filon close the door. 

“Yes, you deserve it,” Artyom told him. “But we have decided to leave that honour to the Captain, or his husband.”

“Is that why you are here?” Ekaterina asked them. “To tell us that Vasya or Grisha should beat Mark?”

They looked at her strangely. “We could have sent you a note, if that was all we wanted,” Filon said. 

Filon sat to her left, and Artyom made him sit on the bed. 

“You fucked up,” Artyom told him, pointing his finger at him as if he were a school child. 

“But you have been judged fairly by the Reds, and they have decided on your punishment,” Filon said. 

“And since you know that you fucked up, and you have accepted your punishment, we must also accept that decision and forgive you,” Artyom said. 

“We just thought…” Filon sighed. “If my brother had done what you did, I wouldn’t want him to be alone. Not when he’d be feeling all miserable and guilty.”

Lady Ekaterina studied him. 

“Nor when he’d have such a pretty lady in need of comfort,” Filon smiled seductively at her. 

Mark stared at him. “Really?”

Artyom stood up and nodded. “I like you, Sir. And you,” he told Ekaterina.

“And I like you, my Lady” Filon said to Ekaterina. “And you.” He glanced at Artyom and at his nod, Filon stood up and looked at them seriously. “We talked about it, and we would like more.”

“Like what?”

“Like, no other men, or ladies. Just us.”

“Until we all decide to do things differently,” Artyom added. 

“What made you decide this now?” Ekaterina asked them curiously. 

“The knowledge that if anything happens to the Major, we will need a miracle to be saved,” Filon said. 

Artyom nodded. “Twenty lashes with the great whip are survivable, but if one falls sick afterwards? Only Luck can save them.”

“And if the worst thing happens,” Filon spat three times on the floor and shook his head. 

“The Reds still want blood,” Artyom nodded again. 

“So, we thought, why not try being in a committed relationship while we still have the chance? I’ll try anything once, and this I haven’t tried,” Filon smiled. 

“And his marriage seems to be giving the Captain strength, so maybe there is something good about it?”

Mark looked at Ekaterina. “This is the most rational motive for having a committed relationship I have ever heard,” he told her, half amused, and half admiring them. 

She smiled. “I like it. It is never good when emotions rule people. No, I’d rather have reason any day.” She took off her chemise. “I hope that this means that you will happy to please us.”

“My Lady,” Artyom grinned. 

Filon grinned at him. “Sir? May I?” he asked as he fully undressed Mark. 

He smiled. How he hoped they all survived this storm. Life in exile might be fun, but if they survived, they’d create the strangest and most marvellous court in the world. How could his modest Orgy Hall compare to this Palace of Utter Decadence and Utter Fidelity that they were going to have?


	69. Chapter 69

27th

“Sir,” someone shouted outside the door. 

Vasily sat up. “Enter.”

Prokhor came into the office, and stared at him with shock. “Sir, there is a folding bed in the closet.”

“I know. I hate them,” he whispered as he stood up from the mattress he had placed on the floor. “What is it?”

“Urgent letters from His Excellency, Sir.”

He froze. “Just from him?”

Prokhor looked embarrassed. “Well, there is that and …” he went out and brought in four courier bags. 

He looked at them with horror. He’d have to spend weeks replying to all the letters that had been sent to him in the last two days. “Thank you.” He took the letters from Bitoulin and opened the first one. 

_21st FF, early morning_

_Sorry, more bad news._

_Brace yourself._

_SIT DOWN!_

_I mean it, V_

_I have bad news._

_G is ill. We have moved him to the hospital and all the doctors there are doing their best to lower his fever._

He froze for a moment. Grisha? Ill? He fell down on the mattress, because his legs couldn’t carry his weight any more, and broke the seal of the second letter. It was shorter.

_21st FF, morning_

_After a unanimous decision, we are all sick. ALL OF US_

_So is G_

He looked up. Prokhor nodded. So, they all knew that Grisha was… He opened the next letter. 

_21st FF_

_Fuck, I will send all my letters together. I just realised this is my third of the day_

_G was up for a bit this morning. Had brief but intelligent discussion with HM about the plan to overthrow F. HM still resists the idea, but has realised that he’s behaved like a fucking idiot and now wants forgiveness._

_Your other half is truly good – he gave it._

Of course, Grisha was truly good. He was so wise, and knew that forgiveness had to follow repentance, or else what was the point of it? 

What would he do without Grishka? 

_We haven’t, and we are all sick_

_The Quhjani are making sacred soup for him. What did you do to Kamenski, Lesnev? He preferred you over His Majesty. I didn’t expect that_

What had he done? He’d met him when they were first at Jedlowa with His Majesty, and talked to him while they had drinks. He hadn’t done anything. No, this was because Grisha was so inspiring. Anyone who met him, even for a few minutes could see that. He smiled; Kamenski had struck him as clever and loyal, but now he could see that he was also such an astute man to see how wonderful Grisha was from the little time they had all spent together at Jedlowa. 

_21st FF, noon_

_G was asleep most of the morning after HM’s visit and just woke up. Had broth… sacred soup, and bark tea._

_The doctors think if G’s fever remains steady today and tomorrow, he will be fine. That he managed to have an intelligent discussion with HM this morning and me, makes me think he will make it._

_21st FF,_

_G was asleep all afternoon and just woke up. Had more broth … sorry, sacred soup, and tea._

_He looks so ill, but I still have hope. Between the doctors doing all they can, our offerings and the Quhjani sacrifices, he should pull through, shouldn’t he?_

He should. Shouldn’t he? 

Behind Bitoulin’s letters was a report, this one mainly written by Evgeni, but also Carel, detailing the discussion His Majesty had had with Grisha and then how, every time Grisha was awake, the men wouldn’t let him rest, insisting on visiting him. And Grisha was so kind to them all, reassuring them all that he was tired and ill, but he would be fine, be would be. 

He looked up at Prokhor. “What have they written you?”

Prokhor shook his head slowly with a miserable expression. 

He shivered as he started breaking open the seals of the other letters, some from men whose names he recognised, but others from complete strangers. No one really believed Grisha – they all hoped he would be fine, and they had offered incense and sacrificed together with the Quhjani, but all were so very worried and were determined to be sick until Grisha got better or… 

They were discussing mutiny, if Grisha…. Would he…? 

He froze. How could they ask that of him? 

“Is he up?” he heard Alec shout from the corridor. 

He looked up in time to see Prokhor nod and Alec ran into the anteroom to Grisha’s office, Glinof and Daskhov behind him. 

“Can you leave us alone?” he told Prokhor and he nodded. 

Alec closed the door behind him. “Lesnev,” he said as he looked at him, “this is not the time for moping.”

“No one thinks Grisha will survive.” He felt his eyes fill with tears. “Alec, he could be dead now, while we…”

“He could be, or he could be well,” Alec said as he pulled him up with Dashkov’s help. 

“But we need to decide if we want to be dead by the men now or by His Majesty later,” Glinof told him. 

“The men want to march to Ivanhof, crown His Majesty as sole Emperor and then incite His other Majesty’s troops to proper mutiny.”

“But that will mean civil war. Most nobles will never agree to having Elik as their emperor. Nor will a lot of Bosilik. His Majesty has no legitimate claim to the throne,” Vasily gasped. 

“We know that,” Glinof said. 

“They really want Nikolaj’s head. And the Chancellor’s,” Alec said. “And they don’t care what happens after that.”

He shivered. “Mark is my family,” he whispered. “And His Majesty here will never accept to be sole Emperor.” 

“You don’t know that,” Dashkov said. “He…”

Someone knocked on the door once and then opened it. Lazaref and Farmakowski walked in. “The men are restless,” Lazaref said. 

“They want you, Lesnev.”

He closed his eyes. “Give me five minutes.”

“We don’t have five minutes,” Alec told him. “We’ve only managed to keep them quiet by promising to let you decide.”

“What he means is, by promising that you will lead them, Lesnev,” Dashkov said. 

“Yes, I’m not doing that,” Lazaref muttered. “That’s your job.”

Vasily frowned. When had he become the ringleader of this mutiny? Oh, yes, the day before…. But he’d only wanted justice, not… That was for later. “I need to use the privy.” That was for that moment. 

“Oh, then, yes, you can have five minutes,” Alec grinned. “See you at the shooting range. Lanskoy, and the 7th Regiment arrived earlier and they are also waiting there, together with everyone else.”

“And the 8th Regiment should be arriving soon.”

Vasily nodded. “I’ll see you there.” Why couldn’t they all leave him alone? This letter was from the 21st. He had to figure out how to improve their communications system, and get news from Nisdruna. Or maybe…. He could escape them and ride to Nisdruna and…? 

And then they would mutiny, and kill Mark before making His Majesty here their emperor, and turn nobles and common folk loyal to His Majesty there against him and start a civil war. And… hadn’t Grishka forgiven His Majesty there? Why wasn’t that mentioned in the letters sent by the others, not by Bitoulin? Not even Carel and Evgeni had written it. 

No, they had written that His Majesty had said he was sorry, and Grisha just nodded. Which could mean anything, as far as they were concerned. 

Vasily took a deep breath. If he survived this, he’d take a week off and go to a place where he would see no one. If Grisha were well, they would hide from the world together, and if not… well…. That was a thought for the future, if he had one. 

A visit to the privy later, and with a cup of coffee in his hand, Vasily hurried to the shooting range just as Jones, Starevich, and Semenov from the 8th joined all the other Majors at the pavilion. 

“A protest is not enough anymore, Sir,” someone shouted as he approached the officers. 

“We want justice. Real justice,” another screamed and that proved a popular phrase with the men. 

“Real justice.”

“What do you want?” he asked them. 

“Death to His Majesty. Death to the Chancellor. Death to all who oppose us.”

“Death.”

“Death,” they chanted rhythmically. “Death to His Majesty.”

“Death.”

“Death to the Chancellor.”

“Death.”

“Death to all who oppose us.”

“Great, now they are all singing soldiers,” Alec snorted. 

“And what an easy tune,” Pavlov muttered. 

“Easy to follow,” Scott sighed. “I remember these songs from when I was little, living up in Fyrie. As attractive as they may sound, such songs don’t end well for those who like them. Or for those who don’t.”

Alec nodded. “My family left Aedley because of such songs.”

Vasily looked at them. He had read about how the Parliamentarians had tried to establish their own state at the north of Aedley after they had been defeated at the south. Heatherby, from where Alec’s family came, had fallen early to the royalists, and Fyrie had been the last city to resist the royals’ rule. That had not ended well at all, and the city had fallen to Aedleian troops not after a siege, but after civil discontent. 

He raised his hand and, even though they had been doing it all day the previous day, it still surprised him how quickly they obeyed him. Ah, how much they all must have admired Grisha to be willing to listen to him. How he hoped he’d be able to reason with them this day. “Even if we were to follow the Old Way, it is not fair now. We don’t know if… if…” he forced himself to say it. “If he is dead.”

“Screw fairness,” someone shouted angrily. 

“Did His Majesty show fairness?”

“He doesn’t deserve any.”

“Death.”

“Death to His Majesty.”

“Death.”

“Death to the Chancellor.”

He raised his hand again and they stopped. “Death to his Majesty, you say.”

“Yes.”

He shivered. He had never imagined the sound of ten thousand men. It was much, much louder than he’d thought. He would never reason with them. No, he’d have to stun them and hope that they really cared a little bit for him too, and not just because he was Grisha’s husband. Or maybe because of that. 

“You don’t need to follow me until you’ve heard me,” he told the other Majors quietly before turning around and walking towards the Main Gate of the Barracks. 

The silence after all the shouts was heavy, and made it easier to hear when they started following him, probably out of curiosity. He ignored them. 

Grisha would think him foolish and reckless, but he would also stand by him and laugh about his habit. ‘You are gambling again’, he’d tell him. ‘Yes, and I hope they will fold’, he’d reply, because either they lived by their rules or they didn’t, and Grisha knew that too. 

Their rule was that they always honoured their promises. Even though they hadn’t expected that Nikolaj would break his promise first, their promise to Nikolaj would only be broken by death. As long as Grisha lived, he would be loyal. And he needed to believe that Grisha lived still. He needed it so much.

When he reached the Main Gate, he stood in the middle, turned around and faced the Majors and the men who were following them. He took a deep breath and pretended he was on a ship, singing across the sea. 

“You want to kill His Majesty, you will do it over my dead body,” he said in a loud, steady voice. “Here I am. March.”

No one moved. 

Alec smiled and made a little gesture. Madman, he said without words. 

“Sir, how can you say that?” 

He was certain that was Alexei, but decided against addressing him personally. “Didn’t you swear an oath to obey His Majesty when you joined the army?” 

“Yes,” Alexei stepped forward, “but the Captain always said to think first, and then obey.”

He nodded.

“So,” he made a gesture towards the group of men behind him, “we now think that His Majesty does not deserve our loyalty or obeisance.”

“Death to His Majesty,” they started screaming again. 

“Why?” he shouted over the voices, and they stopped. 

Alexei stared at him, puzzled. 

“Why do you think that?”

A few men behind Alexei groaned. “Sir, this is not a Trip. You know why.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Just answer him, man. He’ll be asking for hours,” someone further back whined, and while Alexei reddened, a lot of the men laughed. 

“Fine,” Karol said as he stepped out of another group. “We think that because the Majesty killed our Captain.”

“You don’t know that,” he told him softly.

“Sir, you read what our brothers wrote,” Faddei shouted miserably. “Do you really think that…”

“I don’t know,” he screamed back at them. “I don’t know, but I know what you are asking me.” He really wanted to fall down and start crying. He didn’t want to think of life without Grisha. He didn’t want to live with memories of him. 

At least his outburst had made them fall quiet again, and Grisha’s men even looked embarrassed and ashamed. 

“While Grisha lives, I will not raise arms against His Majesty. Never. If you want death to His Majesty, then kill me now, because you will need to march over my dead body to go there.”

“You don’t know if he lives,” Prokhor insisted. 

“I want to believe he lives. Don’t you understand that?” He felt his eyes burn. “Until I know he is dead, I will not raise arms against His Majesty.”

“Why, Sir? No oath is worth that,” Desya told him quietly.

“I will not raise arms not because of my oath as a soldier, but because Grisha and I have promised to be loyal.” 

Alexei frowned.

“We owe him our lives,” he said even more loudly, “and as long as Grisha lives, he will have my loyalty because of that. If Grisha dies,” he shuddered at that, “then I will consider my debt to him cancelled and I will lead you myself to his fucking tent and slit his fucking throat myself. But not before I know that….” He sighed miserably. “Don’t make me think that he is dead,” he cried. “Please.” 

“You promise?” Alexei asked him loudly. “That if our Captain is gone, then you will lead us?”

“I do. This I vow to you, the way Grisha and I vowed to serve His Majesty when we first enlisted.”

“How can you be so loyal to that man?” Desya asked again, still miserable and full of disbelief. 

He shrugged. “Oh, you know. We were young.”

Alec groaned. “Not now, Lesnev,” he muttered, making the Majors grin. 

“We were married.”

Several of the men at the front rows laughed. 

“I was just disinherited,” he continued and no one laughed at that, “And Grisha was dying.” 

Even the ones who looked at him curiously, or as if he truly were mad, stopped doing that, and just stared with horrified interest. 

“Grisha got so sick after my father ordered him punished,” he said a little softly. “It took me a week to reach Cousin Mark’s home because no one, no one in the estates of the man who used to be my father dared help us, and strangers wanted ….” He shuddered. “What they wanted in exchange for help, I would not give,” he murmured. “A week of him getting worse and worse, while I carried him and dragged him forward, to the only safe place I knew was near.”

He shivered. He really didn’t want to think back to those days. He’d thought that Grisha was dying slowly next to him, burning with fever, and he didn’t even know how to beg for food. If he had had time, he would have played cards and won some money for them, but he couldn’t leave Grisha alone. If a doctor had offered him money, he would have sold himself gladly to him – not for money, but for treating Grisha, but all the men who’d tried to buy him had been merchants or soldiers, and he wouldn’t sell himself to them. He hadn’t had the time to look for a doctor, nor a safe place to leave Grisha while he tried to find help. 

“Every morning I thought I would lose him, but I hoped he would live, so I kept on going until we reached Cousin Mark’s house. His father threw us out, but Cousin Mark hid us in an abandoned farmhouse. No one bothered us there, and we had shelter. Cousin Mark brought him blankets at the first opportunity he had, and I had time to find food for us. You will never believe what good food people throw at pigs,” he whispered. “And Grisha was still getting worse.” 

Mark had always said he’d done it against his father’s wishes, but he always suspected that Mark was lying. No one had bothered them at that farmhouse; no one had stopped him when he stole food thrown to the pigs. They must have had their orders not to notice them. Perhaps one day he would ask him – if they all survived.

“While Grisha continued getting worse, Cousin Mark begged Nikolaj to let us enlist in the army. Nikolaj not only wrote a decree, giving us dispensation to join the army even though we were not eighteen yet, but he also sent his private doctor to treat Grisha. If not for Nikolaj, I would have lost Grisha then. He saved him. And he saved me, because I couldn’t live without Grisha.” Not then, not now. 

He looked at the men. “And so I tell you all, as long as Grisha lives, I cannot and will not raise arms against him. But if his actions result in the loss of Grisha’s life, then I too will find the Old Way fair.”

The men stayed silent and watching him. 

“Sir?” Desya suddenly said. “You look like you could use some tea.”

Alec and the other Majors nodded. “I think we could all use some tea. Gentlemen, to the Great Hall,” Alec shouted. “You are the Guests of the Reds, and let no man say that we don’t know how to treat our friends.”

Desya and Alexei approached him. “I’m sorry,” Desya said. “I had no idea.”

He followed them towards the Great Hall. “No need to apologize. You needed to know my truth to understand my actions.” 

“We should offer incense to Luck to help our Captain recover.”

“What would be the point? By now, either he is getting better or he is not.” He sighed. He didn’t want to say that word again, until he had to. “No, what would be good is to improve communications. You were on that trip when we had considered using birds, right?”

Desya nodded. 

“In his las.. latest letter to me, Grisha suggested that that maybe we need to think about it again, but… last night I remembered that I had read something else. Since we have so many men here, do you think they would be willing to help me? The more we are, the faster we will finish what I have in mind.”

&*&*

Duke Okdranov was the last to arrive at the Council meeting room. In fact, he was not just the last, he was also late, arriving thirty minutes later than everyone. 

“Your Majesty,” he bowed, “I apologize for the delay, but I had news from my informants at the Barracks.”

“Yes?”

“This is for the Council and the Regent only,” he said. 

Elik nodded and everyone left them alone. “Well?” he asked once everyone else was out of the room.

“I have good news and bad news. The good news is, it is not a mutiny yet. The bad news is, it is still a mutiny in the making,” he said as he sat down.

Mark covered his face with his hands and groaned. “What do they want now?”

“Justice for their Captain.” Duke Okdranov took a deep breath. “Lesnev has fallen ill, and the men are convinced that he is dead already.”

Elik froze. Grisha? Dead? 

Mark stood up, startling him. “I must go to Vasya.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Duke Okdranov told him sternly as he stretched his arm and grabbed his coat end. “They will kill you.”

Elik and the others nodded miserably. 

Duke Vladimirov srood up, pulled him down by the arm, and Mark allowed it. 

“In addition to this bad news, I have more bad news.”

“What now?” Duke Andrejevich sighed. 

“Lesnev, the one here, has vowed to lead the troops into rebellion whenever they have confirmation that Lesnev, his husband, is dead.”

Elik sighed. Ah, how he envied and admired them! Vasya was willing to start a rebellion for his husband, no matter what the consequences, while his own miserable wretch of a husband didn’t care whether he lived or died. He really wanted to go to his rooms and cry. “He truly is so loyal,” he whispered. “If Luck is with us all, then I will have their portraits made, and circulated across the empire as images of the Embodiments of Marital Fidelity.”

Duke Okdranov looked at him strangely. “Sire, the man just declared his intention to be a traitor.”

“That man is loyal to his husband. Something that seems to be rare among Bosilik,” he huffed. “Or, at least something that my husband doesn’t know,” he continued miserably. “Why has He not written to Us? And who can tell Us more about Grisha’s health?”

Mark looked up slowly. “Your Guards. Some among them have served under Gri… Lesnev, and they all write to each other.”

Elik nodded. “Then, if there is no other business, We would like to find out more about Grisha’s health,” he said as he stood up and walked out of the room. “And no more talk of Lesnev being a traitor. My Brother would never betray Us. Neither me, nor His Majesty.” No matter how unworthy his husband was of such loyalty. “In fact, since Mark cannot go see Vasya, I will.”

“Sire, no,” they all shouted at him. 

“Why?”

“If you go, you will be seen endorsing the mutiny in the making,” Duke Okdranov said.

Mark nodded. “If you do, you will be branded a traitor, especially if they do mutiny.”

“And what if they decide to mutiny because of your visit?” Duke Theissen asked him.

Elik sighed. “So, I must sit here and wait while Vasya…”

“While Vasya also waits,” Mark sighed. “Your Majesty, maybe we can send some of your Special Guards there to keep an eye on him? Fil… I was told that he is not taking care of himself.”

“And they will let us know what is happening there,” Elik smiled. “What an excellent idea. Mark, do they know that he likes cold soup at the Reds’ Barracks? Oh, I have an even better idea,” he grinned. “Wait.” He ran out of the room and gestured for Ivan and Fedot to approach. 

“Your Majesty?”

“Send a message to all the Guards to gather at the kitchens. We should make something nice for the Captain and the others at the Barracks.” 

“There are more than ten thousand men there, Sire,” Ivan smiled. 

“More than ten thousand? I thought it was 7500.”

“No, that was yesterday,” Fedot said. “I heard that the 9th Regiment should be here by noon as well.”

Elik shivered. “Gentlemen, that is a lot of men.”

“Yes, Sire,” Ivan grinned.

“Even those who are not afraid that this will turn into a mutiny…”

Fedot snorted. 

“You don’t think so?”

“Sire, if the Major dies, there will be a mutiny.”

“All this for one man?” He sighed. “Vasya is so fortunate to have such an admirable husband, while I have His Majesty.” He sighed again. “We should make something nice for Vasya and the Captain’s men, then. They,” he huffed as he gestured towards the ministers, “say if I go there, I might incite them to rebel.”

Fedot and Ivan shared a look. “They are right, Sire.”

“But if I send cakes to Vasya, will that still be seen as endorsing the mutiny in the making?”

Ivan grinned. “We will say they are sent by the Guards, and no one else.”

“But we will make sure the Captain knows you made them with us.”

“Great. Tell the Guards to gather at the kitchens. I will bring help from among the courtiers.”

“Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

“Courtiers and Guards don’t mix like that.”

“Says who?” Elik looked at them. “Didn’t courtiers and Guards mix with courtiers from every court we stopped from Ustvela to Valentin? It is about time they mixed here as well.”

“Even if it is not after dinner time?”

“Even so. Gentlemen, this is an emergency. We must all be united. And send something really nice to Vasya. Mark heard he’s not taking care of himself.” He sighed. How he wished he could go there and hug his brother, and let himself be hugged back. 

Had Nikolaj ever loved him? 

How could he trust in him after what Nikolaj had done? And why hadn’t he written to him? 

&*&*

Maxim looked at the Barracks’ main gate. “I still can’t believe this,” he grinned. “We won at lots to be the first to come here and gather intelligence, while everyone else is stuck at the kitchens making buns and singing about justice. We are so lucky.”

Valery grinned and nodded. “if we are really lucky, they will either leave some buns for us, or we’ll get some here.”

“Oh, yes. Buns made by the Young Lord. He’s really talented.”

“He keeps saying he wants to be a singer if we all get exiled, but I think he would be just as successful as a cook.”

“True. Do you think this will become a mutiny?”

“I don’t think before I have all the facts.”

Maxim laughed. “You really were trained by both Captains. Valery?”

“Yes?”

No, he couldn’t ask if he thought that the Major was dead. 

“Valya! Hey, Valya, here.” 

“Hey, Felix. Let me introduce you to Maxim.”

“A fellow Special Guard I see.” Felix stepped forward and took the reins of their horses. “Pleased to meet you. What brings you here?” he said as he looked at the horses. 

“Our Captain,” Maxim said. “We need to see how he is.”

Felix grinned at him. “Such loyalty.” His smile fell. “He’s…”

“Well?” Valery asked him.

Felix started tying their horses to a post by the main entrance. “We fucked up.” 

“Excuse me?”

He glanced at Maxim.

“We all know,” Valery said. “And we all agree. If anything happens to the Captain, a protest will not be enough to satisfy us anymore.”

Maxim nodded. 

“This morning,” Felix said miserably, “we told that to the Major and asked him to lead us to taking justice.”

Maxim stared at him. What? No wonder the Young Lord needed reliable intelligence coming from the Barracks. All they knew at Ivanhof was that their Captain had decided to lead the rebellion, not that the men had asked him. 

“The Major didn’t need to be told that,” Valery shouted. “Hell, I wouldn’t want to be told what to do if our Captain died. No. It’s bad luck, Felix.”

“But you have received a letter from…”

“Kir.” They started walking towards the Main Hall. “And he wrote that the situation was desperate, and he didn’t think that….” Valery sighed deeply. “But I would rather hope that in the evening or tomorrow there will be a letter for me, in which my friends write that the Captain is better. I don’t want to think that he…” he sighed again. 

Felix looked embarrassed. “Well, you were there. You were not here, where we were all angry and wanted action. The Captain was wasting time, as far as we saw it.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to think his husband is dead,” Maxim said softly. 

Felix sighed. “You are right, but we were so stupid. We had to be told to understand it. And he made us feel like shit. We have decided to waste some time,” he said, “so don’t be surprised that the Main Hall resembles a gambling den today. Or that the meeting rooms above smell like a brothel.”

Maxim grinned. Sounded like his kind of place!

“We might as well fuck if we can’t fight,” Felix laughed. “But, really, we fucked up a lot this morning. I will tell you everything later. But you know what?”

“No.”

“The Major is the Original Beast. We think our Captain learned perseverance from him. He said he carried the Captain for a week. When they were sixteen. Can you imagine that? Our Commander, Major Glinof, was two classes above them when they enlisted, and he remembers them. The Captain was always big and muscled, but the Major? He was thin.”

“He’s thin now,” Maxim said.

“He was even thinner then. As thin as a twig, Major Glinof said. You are so lucky,” Felix told them. “You are getting trained by two Beasts, not one. Valya, it’s so good you are here. We, the men from our group here started thinking….”

“Yes?”

“That, if Luck is with us, and there is a Trip at some point, to petition Their Majesties to allow the Major to join them. I feel sorry for all the men who were only trained by the Captain. He is amazing, but so is the Major. Everyone should be as lucky as we were. And you really are so fucking lucky. You have the Original Beast! You are as lucky as the Reds.”

Maxim and Valery smiled. Yes, they were lucky. 

“Anyway,” Felix said seriously as he led them up the stairs of the Main Hall. “When you see the Major, don’t tell him that you think his husband may be dead. He refuses to hear it, and will not believe it until he has it in writing, so we have decided not to mention this. Again. Not until we know that he is.” He shuddered. “Also, do you read ancient Maati or Yeleni by any chance? Or, do you know anything about birds?”

Maxim and Valery frowned. What?

&*&* 

_Nisdruna, 27th FF,_

_Hey,_

_I am a prisoner of your wolf cubs, Siuta! HELP!_

_They do not let me leave the hospital!_

_HELP!_

He started laughing. This was so ridiculous. 

“Sir?”

“I am fine, Michal. Just trying to write to my husband.”

Michal nodded seriously, while Evgeni and Carel smiled indulgently at him. He should never have told them about those dark days. They looked at him even more strangely than before. Almost as if they expected him to tell them a story from a romance. Argh. 

“Maybe we should get a carriage,” he told them. “It will make the trip more comfortable, especially if we can find one of the really expensive ones, the ones with the springs in the suspension, like the ones they use at court.”

“Sir,” Evgeni started.

“Not today. But, can you look into it? It would be nice if we left tomorrow or the day after, wouldn’t it? And then,” he looked at Evgeni, “as soon as we are further away from here, you too could write to your husband. Or do you think I haven’t heard that you haven’t written him in weeks? He will be worried.” He sighed. “And it would be nice to know how he is. I am afraid that Francis might have placed him under house arrest.”

Evgeni paled. “Really?”

“Had the thought not occurred to you? At all?”

“No. He’s an Ambassador.”

He felt bad. He should have mentioned that sooner, but, when he had been well, he hadn’t thought that something so obvious would need to be mentioned, and then he was not able to. “Maybe we can go to the garden and have tea there? It is another warm day.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Michal helped him up, and he was grateful for that. His back still hurt badly, although not as badly as before, and that meant that every movement hurt. “I hope Vasya is taking care of our garden. And our lands.” He grinned. “We have land,” he said, before the responsibility made him frown. “It’s been a very dry summer. Maybe we should tell everyone in our lands to start planting potatoes.”

“Sir?” Carel asked as he opened the door and they walked out. 

“The winter was the cold, with heavy snow in the beginning, but even before early Spring it had been unseasonably mild. And now this dry, hot summer. I was so worried about our plants these months, but this not just about a few plants here and there. Don’t you think this is bad for the crops? Our neighbours were worried about their crops during the winter, and hoped for a rainy summer.”

“I’m certain it will be fine,” Evgeni told him. 

“I hope you are right.” He waited until they were out and continued on his letter, while waiting for his tea.

_Siuta, it just occurred to me. The winter was mild, since before you left, and the summer hot and dry. I am worried about the crops of the people in our lands. I don’t think we will have a good harvest this year._

_Please, persuade them to start planting potatoes. If you can persuade more people, that would be even better._

_I am sorry, I should have thought of that earlier, but I was not well. Ah, Siuta, I do not know what is harder: acknowledging and accepting that I was ill or that our duties keep us from following what our hearts desire: a peaceful life in accordance to nature._

He looked up and saw that his men were there again. He smiled at them. “Let me finish this, and then I will tell you a story.”

_Until we manage to have that, though, maybe we can take a week’s leave and go hide from the world somewhere before the weather turns cold? I want to be with you. I want to be alone with you. Without anyone around us. We should find a small island, with a little forest with berries and fruits, so we can swim during the day, and then have fish for dinner and berries for dessert. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Just us, away from everyone, and everything._

_I am trying to persuade your wolf cubs to let us leave tomorrow, but they are so stubborn. They truly are your pack._

_As always, I love you and I want you and I miss you and I am yours, always yours,_

_Your Grisha_

He smiled at the men as he folded his letter and gave it to Evgeni for keeping. “What if I told you the story of the battle of Dereveni? But you will also have to participate. You all know how devastating that battle was for king Phyrrhias. Could you come up with a battle plan to make him win?” He gestured towards the men to his left. “You will take Phyrrhias’ side. And you,” he pointed to his right, “You will take Baeneus’ side, and try to counteract the plan of your brothers.”

“Yes, Sir,” they all shouted, grinning.

“I will remind you what happened first,” he smiled. 

&*&*

Since these were difficult times, Elik had decided that he would receive reports as soon as they arrived, no matter where he was. Although, perhaps that was a mistake.

At the sight of the officer saluting him from the entrance of the banquet hall, Princess Olga let out a scream and fainted. 

“The mutiny has started,” Princess Xenia shouted, causing panic to spread among everyone.

Elik stood up. “No, it has not. Has it?” he asked the officer. 

“No, Sire. I am bringing news from the Capital.”

“See? Nothing to worry about. Well, what news do you bring us?”

“The people of the Capital are worried about all the movements of troops and have started barricading the streets in anticipation of riots and mutiny.”

Princess Xenia fainted as well. 

He couldn’t remember reading of a mutiny in the Bosilik history books. Why were those two acting like that? He'd have to ask later. At that moment, he had more important things to worry about than old history. “Please, reassure the people that no mutiny is happening. Chancellor, Ministers of the Council, we will write a proclamation that all is well and that the troops are….” Having tea? What excuse could they use? 

Maxim and Valery saluted him from the entrance. 

“Ah, Maxim, Valery, tell us, what news from the Barracks?”

“The men have agreed to postpone their mutiny,” Valery said, making several Ladies and a few of his Gentlemen of the court start screaming. 

“Quiet,” Duke Okdranov shouted. “The mutiny is not happening now. You can scream when it starts, but not before.”

“Thank you,” he said to him gratefully as the courtiers fell mostly quiet and voiced their worry in murmurs. When they stopped talking completely, he asked again. “Do you know why? Do they have any demands of Us?”

Valery looked at Maxim.

“Well…” Maxim started.

“You see…” Valery continued. 

“Out with it,” Duke Okdranov cried out. Now he was panicking. 

After a deep breath, Maxim tried again. “They have decided to wait until they have confirmation that Major Lesnev is… I can’t say it, it’s bad luck.”

Elik felt his legs unsteady and he sat down again. “So, Grisha is really that unwell?”

Valery nodded. “He was on the 21st, Sire. We have…”

“We?” Duchess Andrejevich screamed. “You are with the rebels? Guards, arrest him.”

None of the Guards moved, and Elik was certain that even if he had ordered them, they would still not move. “Your Grace, this man is one of my Special Guards. Please, refrain from giving such orders. Valery,” he told him, “please keep your allegiance to the Major to yourself for now.”

“Yes, Sire, but…” Maxim tagged at Valery’s sleeve. “No, I will not be silent,” he continued. “We are not slaves, Your Majesty, we are free men, and His Majesty treated a free person as a slave. Any person believing in justice would find this intolerable, and so we all find it intolerable.”

Elik nodded. “I agree with you, Valery. What he did was wrong. But you cannot want him dead while the Major lives. I read about the Old Way, and even there, it says that only after the death of a victim, can those who seek justice in his or her behalf demand the death of his or her murderer.”

“That’s what the Captain said,” Valery said miserably. “More or less.”

“And that is why the mutiny is postponed,” Maxim added. “Because the Captain refuses to lead the men until he knows that…. I can’t say that. It really is bad luck.”

Elik stared at them horrified. “So, Vasya will lead the mutiny?”

“He is a traitor?” Duke Okdranov gasped.

“Of course, he is,” Duchess Theissen sneered. “What do you expect from someone who betrayed his family?”

“And who married a peasant instead of a most wonderful Lady,” Countess Naryniskina added and Countesses Breintoff and Volonskaya nodded. 

“Must you all still talk about that?” Duchess Larionova cried out as she stood up, sniffling. “It’s been years,” she screamed as he ran out of the banquet hall. 

Lady Ekaterina wrote on her tiny note book and opened it so he could see. _She was Vasya’s fiancée…_

Oh! No wonder she did not want to hear anything about Vasya. He couldn’t blame her. He’d be hurt and annoyed for years if someone as wonderful as Vasya had rejected him After their engagement. 

“No, you said ‘he refuses’,” Mark said quietly. “Maxim, did the men ask him to lead it?”

Valery and Maxim nodded.

Mark stood up and turned towards Elik. “Sire, I don’t care if they kill me. Please, allow me to go to Vasya.”

Filon and Artyom, who were standing behind him, grabbed him and pushed him down. “Shut up,” Filon told him sternly. 

“You are making Katya cry,” Artyom said. 

Elik raised both eyebrows as he saw that Lady Ekaterina was indeed hiding her face behind her fan. Katya? Shut up? Oh, their relationship was working more than well.

“But, Sire,” Mark continued, “They asked Vasya to think of life without Grisha. They are killing him, Sire. I…” He tried to stand up but Filon and Artyom kept him down. 

Elik took a deep breath. The thought came randomly and weirdly at that moment. Why had he wanted theatre, when his courtiers were all such great dramatic actors? He smiled. “Maxim, Valery, please, from the start. This is all very confusing.”

By the time Maxim and Valery had finished, most of the Ladies were drying their tears and all of the Gentlemen looked amazed. And why wouldn’t they? He was surprised thought, that he, who had only met Grisha for so little a time, had immediately realised the depth of the bond between him and his husband, while these people, who lived next to them, hadn’t noticed a thing. Was it because the Bosilik were so keen on fucking others to understand how marital love and fidelity surpassed all other kinds of love, except that of family members?

He was also surprised that people were amazed at how efficient and dedicated to his work Vasya was. Count Rasoulin and Vasya had taken them from the heart of Bosilke all the way to Sorain, and everything had been done so effortlessly and so easily. Of course, Vasya was efficient. 

And he knew very well how important it was to keep yourself busy when all you wanted was to lie in bed, hide under the covers and cry. Because, if he had heard that Nikolaj was dying a week earlier, that’s what he would have done. He would have probably cooked, though, instead of…

“They truly are a paragon of marital love,” he said with a sigh of admiration. If they survived this, he really would put up their portraits as examples of that. “And, yes, We grant them permission to use the Imperial Library at Ivanhof and the one in the Capital while conducting their research. Vasya really wants them to find one passage in a book that spans fifteen volumes?”

“A history book written in Yeleni and translated in Maati,” Maxim nodded. “I was surprised that there were several among the men who can read one or the other of the two languages, and that half the Majors do, but there are no copies of the Histories of the Last Free States in the Barracks, so, on behalf of the Captain, I want to thank you for granting them permission.”

“You are helping rebels, Your Majesty,” Princess Xenia gasped. 

“I am helping one of our officers improve our communications system. Duke Okdranov, you seem like you want to say something?”

“Yes. Your Majesty, it is more than clear that Lesnev belong in Development. Please, can you transfer him under my command?”

“Forget it,” Mark shouted. 

“He may still lead a rebellion if …” Duke Theissen reminded them. 

“Or he may not,” he cut him off firmly. 

“You seem very calm and certain of it,” Lady Ekaterina said, lowering her fan and smiling at him. 

“Because I trust that Vasya will never do anything against Our interests. Maxim, Valery, thank you for your report.”

Maxim approached him. “I also have this for you.” He gave him a folded note and saluted him. 

It was from Vasya! He opened it immediately.

_Barracks of the Reds, 27th of Fire Month, noon_

_Your Majesty,_

_Thank you for the custard buns that you sent with Asei and Fyodor. They were appreciated greatly by everyone._

He smiled. He might not have managed to get any of the courtiers into the kitchen, but he had enjoyed the experience of cooking with his brothers again!

_Please, forgive me for not attending any court functions. I should have apologised in advance, but I did not have the time._

_Rest assured that I am always your most devoted and loyal servant, and when this is over, I will place myself at Your Majesty’s mercy and accept any punishment for my crimes._

_Allow me to write the following to my brother, Elik, and not to my Lord._

_Elik, even though it seems that your Honoured Ancestors have rejected me, I will never forget your kindness and thoughtfulness in giving me something that I thought I had lost forever._

_Please, trust that I am not disloyal to you, and that I do not want to see bloodshed among our people. I will do best to protect you, Brother, and to keep the peace. We cannot have a civil war. Not now, not ever._

_Also, please, keep Mark safe and away from the Barracks._

_There are more things to write to you, Brother, but I will only write them when the time for them comes. Not before._

_Be well and stay safe,_

_Your brother_

_V_

He sighed. He wished he could share some of what Vasya had written in the note, but these words were really just for him. Vasya, if he had understood correctly all the reports, was going along with the men’s idea of a mutiny, but he was also stalling them, until… He sighed again as he stood up. 

“Ladies, Gentlemen, we are still facing a grave difficulty. The army is neither with us nor against at the moment, and at least, this we should consider our good Luck. Chancellor, Mr Ministers, let us write a proclamation to pacify Our people.”

He started walking towards the Council Meeting room. “What if I went to the Capital to deliver it myself? Wouldn’t that make the people feel reassured that we are not about to have a mutiny?”

“No,” the Ministers all shouted. 

“It is not safe.” 

“Not with a mutiny in the making.”

He huffed. He couldn’t go to Vasya, he couldn’t go to his people, he couldn’t go to Ustvela and punch Francis in the face for starting all this, all he could do was stay at home and write. This was so frustrating. 

“Then, can we offer incense to Luck afterwards?”

“That would be most acceptable.”

“Good, at least you are letting me do something.”

What else did Vasya want to write to him? 

Ah, why didn’t he have a husband as loyal and devoted to him as Vasya? He should have expected that; his husband kept wanting to fuck others all the time. Of course, he had never loved him. 

Oh, how he really wanted to support the mutiny. That would teach his wretched husband a lesson. But that was just wrong and selfish. 

“Gentlemen, we really can’t suppress it?”

“No, Sire. And while their demands are ‘justice for Grisha’, which we cannot give, then, there is not much we can do,” Duke Okdranov said. 

“We could flee,” said Duke Andrejevich.

“No. I was crowned Consort of Imperial Rank, and I will die as one. I will leave my place here only if His Majesty orders me.” 

Mark smiled. 

“I wonder, though. Could a man’s punishment and plight, no matter how well-admired he is, bring half the army to mutiny?”

“It did bring His Majesty’s army at Nisdruna to a standstill,” Duke Okdranov said. 

“We wonder, though,” he continued, “If the desire to mutiny hides other grievances.” He looked at Duke Okdranov and Mark. “You know how the men have already complained about their life-long service, and how this is one of the main points of the military reform bill. Valery mentioned being treated like slaves. Would it be possible to ask the men what else troubles them?”

The Ministers, and Mark too, looked at him exasperated. “Now? You want to do this now?” Duke Theissen asked him finally. 

“Sire, Vasya has them reading books in Maati and Yeleni and flying birds to keep them busy. Let us not ask about grievances at this time, or they may really mutiny when they realise what you have realised,” Mark told him. 

“I just hate doing nothing.”

“Sire, you are writing a proclamation with us,” Duke Andrejevich said. "Should we start on that, or wait until there is unrest in the Capital too?”

Elik sat down. “You are right. Let is start on that.”

This was all his husband’s fault! When he could, he would definitely teach him a lesson. 

And if Grisha did die… He shook his head. No, he would not think bad thoughts. It was bad luck.

&*&*

Maxim pushed his plate aside, realising that he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t touched anything. Even though their late lunch was truly late, he didn’t feel hungry. He suddenly missed having cold soup. “I think the Chancellor was right,” he whispered. 

“What?” Vadim asked him quietly. 

“There was something he said at lunch. That the men there were killing the Captain.” He looked at them. “Ask Roman and Nikita when they are back. The Captain… he was not himself.” Maxim took a deep breath. “It is bad luck to even think of it, much more to say it, but I will. I think, if the Major dies, he will die too. Speak up, Valery. You saw how he was, and that was at least an hour after anyone had suggested that the Major might be… you know.”

Valery nodded. “At least they also seem to realise that. Everyone I spoke to promised me that they will wait and be patient until they have confirmation of how the Major is.”

“Imagine if the Major gets better only for him to find the Captain sick,” Peter the Tall whispered. 

“Strange as it is, it makes me…” Maxim started.

“Yes?”

“I want to find someone who will want to lead an army rebellion for me,” he cried. 

Vadim and Valery snorted. “He’s stalling,” they both said. 

“But he will do it, if what I can’t think nor say happens,” Maxim told them. “Unless he dies of grief first,” he muttered. 

“That’s bad luck,” Sila said as he hit him on the back.

“Bad luck or not, it is true.” He stood up. “I think we should rescue him.”

“What?” Leonid asked him, stunned.

“We should go to the Barracks and get him out. We could hide him… I know how we will do it. We’ll go there, bringing more bread or buns from the Imperial kitchens all in a big box, and then we will hide him there, and get him out.”

“You’d need a very big box, Maxim,” Sila laughed.

“Or a chest,” Kolya smiled. 

“Roman and I can help, when Roman is back. Ah, if only Vanya were here,” Stepan said. “He would help you too.”

Ivan looked at Fedot. “We can help you too.” They raised their joined hands, showing off their matching wedding bands. “We’ll do anything for lovers in distress.”

“As the Captain always says, Love is wonderful,” Fedot smiled. 

“Even when it hurts it’s wonderful,” Stepan whispered. 

“And it gives you such strength,” Jan said. “Did he really say he was getting food thrown to pigs to feed them?”

“Not exactly, but how else would he know what food people throw at pigs? Or so Alexei said,” Valery told him. “And he didn’t think the Captain realised he was saying it.”

“Your friend Felix also said that,” Maxim added. “That he looked lost when he spoke.” He shuddered. 

Growing up without a father and with his mother working from before dawn to after dusk to feed him meant that he too had done things he didn’t like remembering or admitting. Things like begging or stealing, or accepting money from men when they liked him a lot, but he had never imagined that the Captain had been through that. But he was not surprised that the Captain had preferred suffering to taking money in exchange for his favours. The Captain’s favours were for his husband only. Oh, what it would be like to have someone love you like that? 

Leonid took a deep breath. “Maxim, I’m sorry for saying you were indiscreet yesterday. I think you did well not tell everything the Captain said to the Lords and the Ladies at Court.”

“It didn’t feel right to share these things with strangers, if he didn’t know himself he was saying them.”

“Even so, they were moved to tears,” Valery said and hugged Maxim by the shoulders for a moment. “You should have heard him. Maxim knows how to tell a tale.”

He grinned. 

“I was thinking,” Valery continued, “if I had been through that, I too would be loyal to the only family member who had helped me.”

“What are you saying?” 

“That maybe, if it does come to that, maybe we should not just warn the Chancellor and give him time to run.”

“What do you mean?” Vadim asked.

“Are you saying…” Bram started and then shook his head. 

“I am saying, we should help him. Make sure he is at a place where no one will find him.” He looked at them. “We can do this.”

“How?”

Ivan whispered something at Fedot, and Fedot raised his hand. “We will ask Quartermaster Sokolov. He knows more about the Captain’s network than we do. And the Captain does have a big network.” He smiled. “I bet he can make people disappear.”

“I’ll ask him,” Bram said. “Everyone knows I don’t like what the Chancellor did, so maybe if I ask, he will believe that we really need his help.”

“Or maybe not. No, we should send a committee.”

“Should we also write it in a report?”

“Maybe.” 

They laughed. 

“And what about rescuing the Captain from the Reds, and the others?” Maxim asked. 

“I think they learned their lesson,” Sila said. “And if not,” he glanced at Vadim. “I was thinking, at the next shift, we, we who were trained by the Captain, the Captain’s husband, should go with Savin and Boris, and talk to all our brothers. We will make sure they wait until it is time to move or disband peacefully, and they will make the others follow.”

“Yes,” Kornei suddenly laughed. “We cannot have the Captain get sick before we learn if that cameo we got him at Aedley is real or not.”

“Yes,” Peter the Tall grinned. “It was so fucking expensive too. I hope it is real.”

&*&*

The Major put his mug down. “It’s a good think we are practically alone on this floor. Why is everyone so loud?” he smiled. 

Carel opened the door and a short, but muscular young man, slightly older than him, and perhaps as old as Peter the Tall, pushed him aside. 

“Hey,” Carel shouted and Evgeni tried to stop him. 

The man ignored them as he ran straight for the Major. “Sir,” he cried. “Sir.”

The Major grinned and saluted him. 

“Sir,” the man saluted back. “Oh, Sir.”

“Stafik,” The Major laughed, “I know you can use more words than that. What brings you here?”

“Sir,” Stafik panted and Carel offered him a glass of water. He drank a little and then tried again. “Sir.”

Carel couldn’t help grinning. “Take your time. Sir is not going anywhere.”

The Major smiled at him. “That is true, Stafik. I have been confined here.”

“You are still unwell, Sir,” Evgeni reminded him.

Stafik finished his drink. “Sir, I am here on an urgent mission from the Coo… the Major. I am to go His Majesty’s camp, but when I heard you were hurt, I had to come here first.” He glanced at them. 

“You can speak freely in front of them,” the Major said. “In fact, you can speak freely in front of everyone in this room and the anteroom. Well?”

“Major Lesnev wants to know… Oh, Sir…” He seemed unable to look away from the Major, and checked him for his injuries.

“I am fine. What is your mission?”

“To find out if your mission got authorised or not by His Majesty.”

“Yes, it was,” the Major smiled. “Tell me, what else did the Major tell you? And how is he?”

Evgeni smiled at the how the Major’s expression softened when he asked about his husband.

“He is recovering well and is in good spirits.”

“What?” the Major paled as he stood up. “What?”

Evgeni looked at Carel. Carel looked at him. 

The Major looked at them. “You knew?” he asked them quietly as he sat down. “No, that is not the issue. Stafik, ignore that question. Tell me, what did he say, exactly?”

“Sir, the Major asked me to find out if your mission had been authorized. After I find out, I am to go to Ystrina, and meet the team sent by the Major, inform them that your mission was authorized, and wait for your team to return from Ustvela.”

The Major grinned broadly. “Wonderful news, Stafik. Most wonderful news. Kuzma, Fyodor,” he shouted and the two walked inside, closing the door behind them. “I hope you will not mind if I ask you to change your mission a little.”

“No, Sir. My mission was to find out if your mission was authorized or not. Now that I know, I have no need to go to His Majesty’s camp.” He frowned. “He really punished you?”

“Yes, but that is not the issue here. Stafik, when did Vasya send his team?”

“He was hoping to send them a day after I left, so I am thinking that they left either on the 22nd as planned, or the 23rd at the latest.” He grinned. “He is most efficient.”

“That, he is,” the Major said with the same soft expression. “Stafik, I want you to rest tonight and start tomorrow as early as you can for Ystrina. When you meet Vasya’s team, tell them that they must go ahead with the plan. I expect them to inform you about the details.”

Stafik looked at him with shock. “Your team? What happened to it?”

“There’s no ‘my team’. By the time His Majesty authorised the plan, I was too unwell to select a team. You can tell that to them. Also,” he said suddenly in Valentinois, “Stafik, meet Michal. He will teach you and the others how to speak like Ustvelan from the area of Svjetlski.”

Michal nodded and looked at the Major with a question in his eyes. 

“Yes, Michal, you can go home. I promised you. Kuzma, Fyodor, you heard Stafik. Please, prepare to leave tomorrow so you can meet Vasya’s team at Ystrina. I don’t know if he has prepared a cover story already, but if not…” he looked at Michal.

“I only have my mother,” Michal said, “but my father was the school teacher in our village, and when he died, she took his place. Everyone knows her, and respects her, because everyone has either been taught by my father or her or their children have. No one will betray me to the authorities in our village, because no one wants to hurt my Mama,” he sighed deeply. After a deep breath, he continued. 

“You are my comrades who defected with me,” he told Kuzma and Fyodor. “You have Krzydzov accents. You must speak faster, though.”

“We will practice from here to Svjetlski,” Kuzma replied in Ustvelan.

“Faster,” Michal told him, smiling a little.

“Michal is a very strict and serious person, but now I understand why,” the Major said in Ustvelan. “You must have learned that from your mother. What an admirable woman she must be. I hope you will find her well,” he told him earnestly.

“I hope so too.”

“As for Vasya’s team,” the Major continued. 

“They are a hunting party from the village of Voloskovo. The area of Svjetlski is famous for its deer, and Voloskovo is far enough that no one will know you, yet close enough that no one will be curious why you are hunting deer there,” Michal said. 

“Of course, if Vasya has already given the men other instructions, they should follow them. The main thing is that Michal is allowed to see what is going on at his village and meet his mother.”

“Yes, Sir,” Stafik saluted him. 

“Stafik, I would happily invite you for dinner but the hospital food is not great. Unless the Quhjani allow you to have sacred soup.”

“Good luck with that,” Carel grinned. 

“They insist it’s only for the Major,” Kuzma nodded. 

“And it smells delicious,” Fyodor added with a plaintive tone. 

“But there are plenty of taverns that serve really good food here,” Evgeni said. 

“And if you ask Ivan and Miron they will guide you.”

“They are here?”

The Major nodded. “They can also tell you all about His Majesty. Ah, but isn’t Vasya wonderful? He is so clever,” he said, smiling softly again. 

“Yes, he is,” they all said without hesitation. 

Evgeni smiled. The Captain was amazing. He would like to be more like him. 

“He really is the cleverest person I ever met in my life,” the Major continued. “And the most efficient too. If it wasn’t for him, there would be no trips. Ah, I can’t wait to go home. Stafik, you should get some rest, but first, tell me this. From what is Vasya recovering?”

“A small scratch,” Stafik replied immediately.

“I see,” the Major said patiently. 

Evgeni did not like the way he was breathing deeply. 

“I’ll ask again. From what is Vasya recovering?”

“He is fine.”

The Major stared at him. “This is exactly the kind of thing that got His Majesty angry enough to punish me. I am not His Majesty, and I had hoped that all of you knew that. I am disappointed in you. And I am worried. What happened?”

Stafik looked down, embarrassed.

“We heard that he was injured when someone tried to assassinate His Majesty,” Evgeni whispered. “It wasn’t a serious injury, but he still got hurt.”

The Major smiled. “Ah, I see. That is fine, then. I was worried that he might have done something stupid like fallen off a tree while trying to save my kittens. What? You doubt that he’s the kind of person who’d climb on a tree to save a cat?”

“No, Sir,” Evgeni managed to say. The idea of the Captain on a tree trying to bring down a kitten wouldn’t let him, though, and no matter how much he tried not to smile, he did. 

“Good. So, you say he should be well by now?”

Stafik nodded. 

“Ah, good,” he smiled again. “Carel, can you ask if there is some sacred soup for me? I would like to rest now. Will you come see me before you leave? I don’t want to say farewell to you now.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Thank you.”

Evgeni stood up and followed the others out. The moment he closed the door, they all heard the Major cry out. 

“Vasya, you…..”

Fyodor sighed. “We should give him a few minutes before bringing him dinner.”

They all nodded. 

“I will explain why we kept it from him,” Carel said. 

Evgeni looked at him gratefully. “Come, Michal. We have to make sure you have everything for the journey. You are going home,” he smiled at the younger man.

Michal looked at him miserably. “If I have a home,” he whispered. 

“At least you will know if you do,” Carel said. “Won’t that be something?”

“Yes. I’d rather have a painful truth than nice lies.” He shuddered. “Can we go get something to eat?”

“Of course.”

“But no drinks. We ride early tomorrow.”

“No, no drinks, Michal,” Kuzma said in Ustvelan, smiling. 

“Faster.”

&*&*

Elik signed at the end of the proclamation. “Gentlemen,” he said tiredly, “We would like to retire now.” It had taken them hours to write a document that would persuade the people that everything was under control, when it wasn’t. 

Duke Andrejevich took it. “I will make sure this is circulated first thing in the morning.”

“Not now?”

“It’s almost eight, Sire.”

“It’s…”

“It’s close to sunset,” Mark said. “By the time the messenger is there, it will create more panic to have people rushing out of their homes to hear what is happening. First thing in the morning.”

“Fine.” He stayed where he was. “You may leave, Gentlemen. Roman and Nikita will be here soon, so I would like to receive them and get their report first.”

“May I also stay, Sire?”

“Yes, Chancellor.”

The other Ministers shared a look. “We would like to stay too, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. Everyone else may retire. Thank you, Gentlemen.” He waited until everyone else was out, and he looked at them. “I would like to go to the Barracks of the Reds tomorrow. Or the Shrine of Ancestral honour.”

“Out of the question,” Duke Okdranov said.

“But I am still angry at His Majesty,” he told them. “I am as angry as I am miserable.”

“Why don’t you write to him?”

“Because I am too angry to write to him. Why hasn’t he written?”

Mark shrugged. He suddenly turned towards Okdranov. “Why are you so keen on stealing Lesnev from me? He’s happy where he is.”

“He would be happier in Development. And he could shoot things.”

“There are more things in life than shooting things,” Duke Vladimirov said with a smile.

“Not really.”

“Besides, he might still turn traitor,” Duke Theissen said.

Elik was pleased to see that everyone in the room glared at him. “I am certain he will not,” he told him. “He is my brother, and my most loyal subject.”

“Sire, with all due respect, when you call him brother, it makes others envious of the favour he enjoys,” Duke Theissen said. “Even at this moment, when everything shows that he is capable of betraying you, you still honour him with that title.”

“But he is my brother.” He ignored the horrified looks that Duke Okdranov and Mark gave him. “I think I can say it now, since… well…” he had been tired of hiding it! “I made him my blood brother according to our traditions. Quhjani, I mean.”

“What does that mean?” Duke Vladimirov asked him.

“That we shared blood, and now we share the same bond as brothers born of the same parents. I trust him, Gentlemen.” More than he trusted his husband. He sighed. “And I wanted him to have Honoured Ancestors again. Only… I don’t think it worked,” he said even more miserably. 

“Legally, though, what does it mean?” the Duke insisted. 

“I don’t think it means much legally. It doesn’t give him rights to my property, or voting rights in the Council, but he can stand next to me in battle, or a feast, or during sacrifices.” He suddenly grinned. “And he also gets to approve or not Irina’s chosen partner. I think that, considering how Irina already asked his approval of her official friend, that will not be a problem. Ah,” he smiled softly. “This summer had started so beautifully. How did we come to this?”

They stayed quiet, until Roman and Nikita were announced. Elik stood up the moment they were inside the room. “What news do you bring us?”

Roman stepped forward. “There was no talk of mutiny while we were there. Instead, we noticed that the four main teams identified earlier by Maxim and Valery have not changed. Teams Gambling and … Being Pleased continue as they were. Team Birds and Team Text have made progress.”

“Really?”

Roman nodded at Duke Okdranov. “Continuing their earlier work, where Team Birds had identified several owners of homing pigeons in the area, they established the maximum weight that can be used tied to the birds’ legs. Tomorrow they will start testing how far they can fly, as well as work on creating a harness to allow birds to carry messages on their backs. Depending on that, they will then proceed to create a network of cities where flying messengers can be housed.”

“Please?” Duke Okdranov whispered at him.

“No,” Mark huffed. 

“And Team Text?”

“They have found the passage, experimented with the torches to see how it works, and now they are working on creating a grid for the Bosilik alphabet.”

“Excuse me?”

“If I understood correctly,” Nikita said, “Each team of messengers has a table with a codified alphabet in a grid of numbers. That means that each letter is formed by a unique combination of two numbers, that is transmitted with torches. And… I think that’s the gist of it. There was talk of multiple tables, but I didn’t understand how it works.”

“Hm.” He wasn’t sure he understood how that worked either.

“They will try this tomorrow, they said.”

“I would love to see that,” Elik told them. 

Duke Okdranov and Mark nodded.

“But it is not wise,” Elik whispered. 

Roman and Nikita nodded.

“And how is Vasya?”

“Working with Team Text.”

Mark glared at them.

“He is… not well, so now, no one is allowed to talk of the Major because they are afraid….” Roman sighed. “I think no one wants the Major to… you know, but if that happens, they all agree that they want the Captain to lead them, as they know that the men will follow him.”

“So, they have to make sure he stays well.”

“Fuck,” Mark whispered. 

Elik nodded. 

“And, in any case, no one wants the Major to come back and find the Captain sick.” Nikita smiled a little. “Everyone seems scared of what he will do if he comes back and finds the Captain ill.”

“What will he do?”

Nikita shrugged. “I don’t know exactly, but everyone is really afraid of it. It might involve swearing, as everyone knows he swears a lot.”

Roman nodded. “They call him The Beast, Sire, so whatever he will do to them, it must be really terrible.”

Mark raised both eyebrows, clearly surprised to hear that. 

Elik smiled. How he wished Grisha were back soon, so he could ask him about it. 

“At least working on the passage and trying to figure out what it meant together with the others keeps the Captain occupied,” Nikita continued. “He really is the Original Beast,” he whispered admiringly.

Eh? 

“We thought we should send the dogs to him tomorrow. Maybe they will cheer him up,” Roman said before he could ask what Nikita meant.

“Maybe not,” Elik told them. “If he wanted them there, he could have asked for them.” He suspected that the dogs were keeping the kittens company and Vasya didn’t want to separate them. 

“But…” Nikita took a deep breath. “There were more messages from Nisdruna. The Captain’s fever was still high on the evening of the 21st, and everyone there was worried.”

“Everyone is really on edge, Sire. Depending on the messages tomorrow…” Roman turned to the Chancellor. “Your Guards will brief you.”

Mark paled. 

“We should all flee,” Duke Andrejevich screeched. 

“No,” Roman said very tiredly. “Sire, they want you.”

Elik stared at them. He was ready to die but, couldn’t that happen later? 

“As their Emperor.” Roman glanced at Nikita. “I know it’s a secret, but the Young Lord should know,” he hissed. “I think the Reds don’t care about the other ministers. Only the Chancellor is their target.”

Duke Vladimirov stood up. “Sire. If you intend to accept the crown from the hand of rebels, permit me to resign now and do with me as you will when you become a usurper.”

Duke Andrejevich nodded as well. “No matter how much he can be frightening, he is My Lord, Sire,” he said proudly. 

Elik collapsed on the chair behind him. “I would not… I could not….” He looked at everyone. “Never. Please, believe me.”

Roman looked at Nikita. “We will send a message to the Captain, Sire. He will know what to do.”

“Please. Thank you.” 

After saluting him, they left and Elik stared at everyone. “I wouldn’t,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t,” Elik continued. “I am angry at Him, but not like that. I am a good person, not a usurper.”

“I believe you, Sire, but… what will you do if they offer you the crown?” Mark asked him. 

“I hate ifs,” he muttered. “But if this happens, I know what I will do. I will say no.” He suddenly stood up. “I’m going to offer sacrifices to my ancestral spirits. They will not let this happen to me.” He ran out of the room, hearing the ministers sigh behind him and ignoring Vasya’s Quartermaster waiting patiently outside. 

Oh, how he hoped nothing would happen. 

Really, why was the postal service so fucking slow? Living at that moment where Grisha could or could not be dead at the same time, and everything, EVERYTHING, were possible, was just horrible!

&*&*

Vasily smiled at Ivan and Fedot. “I thought the next change of guards is in three hours,” he said. He looked at the other Majors. “What have I done to deserve a personal guard?”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, Lesnev,” Trebyanin smiled. 

“Sir, we wanted to consult you about something,” Ivan said.

“It’s personal,” Fedot murmured and glanced at his wedding ring.

“Oh. Gentlemen, with your permission.”

“What’s so secret?” Jones laughed. 

Ivan and Fedot blushed. “It is something that… Maxim said we should ask you.”

He stood up immediately. “If he said that, Gentlemen, then it must be really …”

“Maxim, you said?” Glinof asked. “Slim, with a small scar here?” he said, touching his temple.

They nodded.

“What are you waiting for, Lesnev? Go. Help your men. Have any of you met Maxim?” Glinof continued as he started following them Iva and Fedot of the meeting room. “Within a moment of being introduced to me, he asked me if I would sleep with him…”

He didn’t get to hear the reason that Maxim had offered, but he was certain it was because Glinof was the second son of a baron. Or because, after finishing with the nobles, he had decided to test and rate military ranks. Ah, Maxim. 

The corridor was busy too, and whenever he saw a closed door, he didn’t dare open it. “Maybe we should go to Grisha’s office. It is definitely empty.”

“I’ll check this…” Fedot opened the door next to them and closed it immediately, blushing. “Maxim hadn’t lied when he said that this is the biggest Orgy Hall in Bosilke now.”

“No. Young people, full of urges and energy. Ah,” Vasily smiled. “To be so young.”

“You are young, Sir,” Ivan said. 

“It doesn’t feel like it. Anyway, I think this room is empty.” He walked inside a small office, and when Ivan and Fedot were inside, he closed the door. “What can I do for you, Gentlemen?”

“Sir? The Young Lord.”

He froze. “Is he not well? What happened to him?”

“He is fine, but he just heard that if the mutiny happens, the army will want to make him sole Emperor, and he doesn’t want that.”

“Sir, he was crying.”

“When we left, he was offering sacrifices in the garden.”

“And then he said he’ll make sacred chicken soup.”

“Sir,” they both said, “he needs your help.”

He took a deep breath. Hadn’t His Majesty got Sokolov’s message? “You know what’s been happening here, and you saw them. If I leave, who knows what might happen.” He shuddered. “Tell him to be patient and stay there. The men listen to me because of Grisha, so maybe…” He leaned against the desk behind him before he could collapse. “If there are good news tomorrow, the mutiny will not happen. I am certain there are other issues that drive it, but, as Grisha says, that’s confusing two matters, and the men now seem to think that they want to rebel because of Grisha’s punishment, so it is best to let them think so.”

“And if there are bad news? We heard that you promised to lead the army to Oerestand.”

“Fuck, I did.” He stared at them. “I cannot raise arms against Nikolaj, even if Grisha dies because of his punishment. He gave me fourteen years with Grisha, when I expected to have only days, if not hours. I cannot, but I had to. If there are bad news, I will think of something. Maybe have a few more Guards around tomorrow, so that the men won’t notice when one of them slips out of the Barracks and…”   
He took a deep breath. “Ivan, Fedot, yes. Tell the men that, if they are loyal to me, then, I will need them to support me, even if I have to go against the rest of the army. I suppose I will have two of you watching me, right?”

They nodded.

“Ask ten of the men loyal to me to be here as well. If all goes well, then we can all have tea afterwards. If the news is bad, and the men will not listen to reason and rebel, then, I want the nine to provide a diversion, so that one of them can go to Sokolov. He will know what to do. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And…” He took out his notebook and started writing. Once he’d done that, he cut the page off, folded it and gave it to Ivan. “Give this to Mark.” He did the same. “This is for His Majesty.” He wrote one more note. “And this is for Sokolov.” He suddenly clasped their hands, making them tense.

“Sir?” Ivan gasped. 

He let them go. “If all goes well, we will see each other soon. If not…. It was a pleasure knowing you, and an honour having you under my command.”

Fedot paled. 

“Yes, Sir,” Ivan saluted him. 

“Sir,” Fedor saluted a moment later. 

“You should go now, and I must go back. Tell that to the others, please. It really was an honour for me. Thank you.”

They looked at him miserably. Then Ivan turned around. “Maybe we can go pray to our Honoured Ancestors when we are back,” he whispered to Fedot as they walked out. 

How nice was that, to have Honoured Ancestors. Sighing, he got out of the office and went back to the Mess Hall. 

&*&*

Roman hugged Stepan a little more tightly than usual that night. “They are mad,” he said.

“Who?”

“Everyone.”

Stepan kissed him. 

“Most of the men over there are mad because they follow the Reds and the Huntsmen blindly. The Reds and the Huntsmen are mad because they had to see the Captain lose himself in his grief before realising how far they had gone. The Captain is mad because he will die without his husband, he really will. The Emperor is mad because he has such a wonderful husband and he doesn’t care about him. The Young Lord is mad because he still loves his husband. Even Maxim has gone mad. He sees all this madness and wants to become mad himself.”

Stepan looked at him. “I like this madness,” he said softly. 

“It scared me, Stepan. The Captain… He was mostly fine, and he worked well, but there were a few moments when he would stop and his eyes would see nothing. He was not with us.” Roman pushed Stepan down and covered him with his body. “Stepan, I thought, this is what loving one person for a lifetime does to you, and it frightened me.”

“Why?” 

“Because, Stepan, I don’t want to do this to you, but I can’t promise you I’ll…” He didn’t want to break Stepan’s heart like the Major had broken the Captain’s. 

“Roman, I don’t want you to promise me anything. I want you to be with me. For as long as we can be together.” He smiled. “Let’s have as many wonderful years together as we can. Like the Captain and the Major. Didn’t you find that striking? That the Captain owed his loyalty to the Emperor not only because he saved the Major’s life, but because that led them to have so many wonderful years together.”

Roman smiled at him. “Why are you so wise, Husband?”

“Because love makes me. And I love you so much, Husband. Promise me this.”

“Yes?”

“That you will be with me for as long as you can.”

“I promise,” Roman smiled.

“And I promise it to you. I will be with you for as long as I can. And I will try my best to make our time together wonderful.”

Roman kissed him. What a clever husband he had. He really had to pass his review and be promoted so as to be worthy of him – if their world didn’t end soon. 

&*&*

Mark unfolded Vasya’s note under the gaze of Filon, Ekaterina, and Artyom, who were waiting for him to join them in bed. He started reading it out loud. 

_Cousin Mark, Cousin Ekaterina,_

_I am writing this since it seems you did not get Sokolov’s message._

Mark glanced at the packed travel bags at the corner and sighed.

_If things go to hell tomorrow, Sokolov will take you (and Filon and Artyom too, if they so desire) to safety._

_Please, be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. If things go badly, you won’t have more time than that._

_And PACK LIGHTLY. I MEAN IT! Everything you take should fit into a travel bag. No more than that._

_Ekaterina, I know you would rather spend this night differently, but maybe you should sew some of your jewelery in the garments you will take with you. Ask your Ladies to help, if you trust them. Or Artyom – he’s very good at sewing. ___

__Mark looked up, stunned. “How does he know these things?” Artyom had helped Ekaterina sew some of her jewelery in her clothes, after all._ _

__Artyom looked at him with equal surprise. “I don’t know.”_ _

___Filon, I know Mark and Ekaterina will really want to spend this night differently, so I kindly ask you to keep them focused to their task of preparing for tomorrow. When you are done, you may spend the time however you please, and if all goes well, you may all think me foolish and paranoid._ _ _

__Mark looked up again. Indeed, Filon had been the one to make sure they packed everything necessary before allowing them to relax. “Elik had this crazy idea that Vasya was a witch because he seems to know everything, but… do you think Elik might have been right? How does he know everything?”_ _

__Ekaterina shook her head. “It’s like when we were kids, and he would feed us before we wanted to eat.”_ _

__“Perhaps he is a witch, after all.”_ _

__Filon and Artyom groaned. “Perhaps he is very observant, and he is very sneaky,” Artyom said._ _

__Filon nodded. “Yes, he always appears when you don’t expect him.”_ _

__He shook his head. Observant and sneaky or not, his cousin knew things he shouldn’t know. How?_ _

___If all goes well, we will see each other soon. If not… we will see each other again. I know it._ _ _

___Your cousin who loves you all so much,_ _ _

___V_ _ _

__Mark shuddered. “He will do something very stupid if things go badly tomorrow.”_ _

__Filon and Artyom sighed. “Probably.”_ _

__“At least we have packed because we did get Sokolov’s message,” Ekaterina smiled, “so we can spend the rest of the evening as we please.”_ _

__Filon and Artyom kissed her on the cheeks._ _

__He grinned. “You are right. Just let me write this.”_ _

__He took a paper and started his letter to Nikolaj. How he hoped this would not be the last letter he ever wrote to him._ _

___Ivanhof, 27th of Fire Month,_ _ _

___Your Imperial Majesty,_ _ _

___Permit me to address you as my friend. Nikolaj,_ _ _

___Everything is going to hell here. Everything._ _ _

___I don’t know how things will be by the time you receive this. We may still be here, or not. But if we are here, I hope that you know:_ _ _

___a) You made Vasya sad. I wrote that yesterday as well, but today, it was even worse. Nikolaj, he is willing to die for you – how could you do that to him?_ _ _

___a) You made your husband miserable. He thinks you never loved him. Did you? I thought you did_ _ _

___b) I am miserable_ _ _

___c) Ekaterina is miserable_ _ _

___Nikolaj, if we are still here, you must explain yourself. If not to me or anyone else, at least to your husband. He deserves that much, doesn’t he?_ _ _

___And if we are not, then explaining yourself won’t matter anymore._ _ _

___But know that, despite of what you did, and how hurt we all feel, Vasya is still your Vasya, Elik still loves you, and Ekaterina and I are still your best friends (and I love you, Niko)_ _ _

___Your friend, always and forever,_ _ _

___Mark_ _ _

__“There, all done,” he told them. “And now, let’s party like it’s the Winter Solstice Ball!”_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Elik lay in bed and unfolded Vasya’s note when he was comfortable._ _

___Your Imperial Majesty,_ _ _

___I am writing as your Head of Security, since it seems you did not get Sokolov’s message._ _ _

__Elik looked at his traveling bag. Ah, how could Vasya think that his men would be so inefficient?_ _

___The situation is most dire, and we’ve always had a protocol in place for such eventualities._ _ _

___Sire, if the men mutiny, your ministers will tell you that you can either accept the crown and become a usurper, or deny it, and risk being killed by an angry, armed mob._ _ _

___There is a third option. I know you will not like it, but there is a plan in place to take you to safety. If things go that badly, you will be notified by one of the Guards to be ready to flee. Quartermaster Sokolov will have everything ready and he will make sure that you reach His Majesty’s camp at Oerestand as soon as possible._ _ _

___It is my professional opinion that you should go to His Majesty, even if his behaviour right now is truly hurtful and appalling to you. With you at the camp, the army will be divided, and perhaps the men will force their rebellious brothers to stand down because of the love and respect they all have for you._ _ _

___However, Quartermaster Sokolov also has instructions to take ~~Mark~~ … the Chancellor and Her Grace to safety, and, for them, safety can only be found outside of the country, until HM has secured his crown. If you wish it, you may tell S that, and he will take you out of Bosilke together with them. _ _ _

___Hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst, I now ask you, Sire, to pack a traveling bag with your necessities and be ready to leave at a moment’s notice tomorrow._ _ _

___As always, I remain your most loyal and obedient servant and will place myself at your mercy when all this is over,_ _ _

___V_ _ _

___p.s. if I may address you as my brother, I really want to hope that the morning will bring good news. I have no idea what to do if the news is bad, but I will not let you down, Brother, I won’t._ _ _

___If I think of other options for you overnight, I will let you know._ _ _

__Elik shivered. When he’d first received Sokolov’s message, his first reaction was to do go to bed, stay under the covers, hide his head under his pillow and cry himself to sleep._ _

__But if he stayed, he’d either be a usurper or dead. If he lived… then maybe he could help his friends. So, what choice had he had but to go to his rooms and pack?_ _

__At least now he could do as he wanted. He could close his eyes and hope. Ah, how he hoped the morning brought good news. He still had no idea what to say to his husband and, as it seemed from the lack of letters, neither did his husband. Yet, to him he would have to go._ _

__Why was his life like a drama?_ _

__How he wished, when everything was over, to find himself some isolated space or… better yet, take a ship and travel as far away from everyone as possible. How nice would that be!_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Nikolaj sighed. All he’d ever wanted was for Elik to be safe at Ivanhof and away from the battlefield. Yet, because he had fucked up so badly, he’d have to ask Elik to come to him because he really didn’t know what to write to him._ _

___On the way to Grodhold, 27th of Fire Month,_ _ _

___Darling,_ _ _

___How are you?_ _ _

___Today we faced some resistance. We took a fortress and two men were injured – one by accident._ _ _

___This is getting ridiculous. But I don’t mind. I will show Fredrik not to mess with me._ _ _

___I still need to write to you but I can’t. Darling, perhaps everything would be easier if you were here._ _ _

___Would you be so Utterly Wonderful and Wise and accept my invitation to come to me?_ _ _

___Your loving, but confused husband,_ _ _

___Your Nikolaj_ _ _

___p.s. when you come here, bring V L with you (I will explain that too when you are here)_ _ _

__& *&*_ _

__Irina looked at her letter one more time._ _

___Jedlowa, 27th of Fire Month,_ _ _

___My dearest Eli,_ _ _

___How are you? You haven’t written in a while. I am worried!_ _ _

___We keep hearing such strange things from Oerestand. First, that your husband was taking a stroll through the country, then that the army had stopped moving because they were all sick, and now two of the Regiments stationed at Quhjan have started moving towards our borders with Ustvela._ _ _

___It is all very worrying, and everyone asks me if I know anything – to which I only have one answer: I know nothing._ _ _

___But, brother, I am worried. What is going on?_ _ _

___Your sister,_ _ _

___Irina_ _ _

__Yes, it was good. And she hadn’t exactly revealed that everyone was everyone at the Council, who were too worried to actually write to him or his husband, for fear of learning that their country was about to be invaded._ _

__She yawned. It was quite late. At least, her letter was good, and she’d send it first thing in the morning. She too was afraid to learn if they were about to be invaded again but she had to know, so she could prepare!_ _

__If her brother didn’t give her the Alexandrov seat at the Council, she’d prove herself worthy and earn it herself!_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Vasily felt like a prisoner, escorted from and to Grisha’s office._ _

__“You should rest,” Boris and Savin said as they pushed him inside._ _

__“Fine,” he grumbled._ _

__One little scratch and one little dramatic scene in front of everyone, and suddenly everyone thought he was weak and in need of coddling. How annoying they all were. If they let him alone, he’d be fine. That was all he needed; to go home and rest and pretend…_ _

__Tears filled his eyes again. How could he pretend anything when all he thought, once his thoughts left work and things to be done, was this utter darkness? A life without Grisha. How could that be? It couldn’t._ _

__Still crying, he opened the closet to take out the mattress. Instead, he looked at Grisha’s clothes, removed the folding bed from there and went into the closet. Fuck them all. He wanted to hide, so hide he would._ _

__He hugged Grisha’s coat as he slid down and started sobbing._ _

__This was not even death in action. This was just pointless. So unimaginable. So horrible. And he had been to blame for it too. Why did he leave the decision about that fucking report to Mark? Why didn’t he send a separate one to His Majesty? How could he have been so stupid? This was his fault too, as much as it was Mark’s._ _

__He’d cry until he slept, he decided. Just as he had focused on the wonderful life that he’d had with Grisha all these years to make it through the day, he would allow himself to feel the guilt, the horror, and the emptiness of a life without Grisha. He had to accept all of the experiences and all his feelings, in order to know himself._ _

__In the morning, he’d get up and figure out the quickest and most effective way of learning what was happening at Nisdruna._ _

__Or he’d escape them all, and go find Grisha._ _

__Fuck them all. Grisha was so right._ _

__He sighed. But if he ran away, his brother would be in even greater trouble than he was. He would rather die than abandon his brother._ _

__He started crying again. Love. That was the last obstacle to finding peace and freedom. Only, he wasn’t certain if he wanted to overcome that obstacle yet. Not while Grisha lived, and his brother had been so very kind towards him._ _

__But when Grisha and he met again, he would tell it to him. Abandoning love, not finding self-knowledge. That was the key._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shroedinger's Grisha!!


	70. Chapter 70

28th 

Unlike Stafik, Kuzma, and Fyodor, who had saluted him, Michal hugged him and Grigori hugged him back. “You can come back, if you want,” he whispered to him in Ustvelan.

“Thank you, Sir.” Michal stared at him. “I will think about it.”

“You do that.” He let him go and looked at Kuzma and Fyodor. “You will take care of him as if he were your brother, you hear me?” he told them in Bosilik. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you. May Luck be with you.”

“And with you.”

After another salute, they left. 

“You really like him, Sir,” Evgeni smiled. 

“I do. He’s a good kid and… I don’t like doing what I do sometimes. I would much rather….” Grow things. He smiled. “Have you thought what you will do if your review is good and you are recommended for promotion?”

Evgeni smiled. “Not really. I need to talk to the Captain first. With all due respect, Sir, watching you with Michal that night made me think about what I want to do. Or rather, what I don’t want to do.” 

“Understandable.” He turned towards Carel. 

“What he said. I don’t want that kind of practice, Sir.”

“Of course.” He hadn’t wanted it either, but he’d been good at it, so he did it. “I wonder if we could have some coffee now. It’s not even dawn but I don’t think I can go back to sleep.” He started walking. 

“Where are you going?”

“To the kitchens. Coffee won’t make itself,” he smiled. And then, he would try one more time persuading the stubborn creatures that his husband had trained to let him go home! 

&*&*

“Where is he?”

“He didn’t leave, did he?”

“No one saw him get out of the office.”

“But where is he, then? The windows are also closed…” 

Vasily sighed. They were so loud. He opened the closet door and looked at them, making Alexei, Sila and Andrik scream. “Good morning,” he said as he crawled out of the small space and reached for his boots.

“Sir, what are you doing there?” Sila shouted. 

“Sleeping. What else?” 

They shared a panicked look. 

“I’m fine. I see you have letters for me? Give me five minutes.” Even prisoners had the right to use the privy. Before they could say anything, he hurried there, washed himself and came back. “Two more minutes,” he said as he wore one of Grisha’s shirts and coats. 

Alexei gave him a few letters marked Urgent Urgent, and the others brought in six bags. What was going on with those people? Half of them didn’t even know him. 

Ah, Grisha was so amazing! 

How he hoped these were good news there. He couldn’t stand it if there were bad news. He had no idea what to do. He unsealed Bitoulin’s letter, noticing that his hands shook. Fuck this. He didn’t have the time to…

_N, 22nd FF, morning_

_V!_

_Good news! No, GREAT NEWS_

_G’s fever is slightly down and he seemed much better today._

_Your men will write details of what happened, but know this: HM apologised (again), G accepted his apology (again), and HM approved of G’s plan. You know what I am talking about._

_After HM’s apology and G’s approval, we are all well, and we will be marching after offerings and sacrifices and deciding which of the men will stay behind to look after G_

_V, I am so happy, I could hug G right now, even though it would make you mad to see anyone touch your husband_

_I will not – don’t worry!_

He looked at them, hope making his heart beat frantically inside him. “Did you also…”

“Yes, Sir,” Sila and Andrik grinned. “Yes.”

Alec ran inside the office and hugged him. “Did you hear the news? Everyone says Grisha will make it.” 

He nodded. He’d read it, but still couldn’t believe it. 

Alec didn’t let go of him. “Come on, everyone wants to tell you the good news.” He grinned. “I mean it. Everyone.”

He let himself be dragged out of the office, and walked to the shooting range in a daze, allowing all these people he didn’t know to hug him and tell him how happy they were, all grinning like madmen, as if Grisha were their best friend. 

He was stunned. Grisha would probably survive his punishment and he’d come home. Home! 

The men wouldn’t have to mutiny, and he’d have to figure out what were their grievances and… No, that was now part of Okdranov’s military intelligence. But maybe he could help him? In exchange for shooting that really large cannon that hadn’t been used in a hundred-and-fifty years? 

Still dazed, he let Alec guide him to face the men of all the regiments who were gathered there. “You heard the news?”

“Yes, Sir,” they saluted him. 

“That was not weird at all,” Alec whispered behind him. 

“At ease,” he told them, and they obeyed. 

“With your permission,” he said, “I have more letters to read. I wonder….” 

“Is that from His Majesty?” Lanskoy shouted and everyone fell quiet. 

Vasily nodded as he opened it. Shivering, and feeling everyone’s eyes on him, he opened it. 

_Your Excellency,_

_Hereby, we authorize Count Lesnev’s plan and we entrust you to bring it to completion according to Lesnev’s instructions._

_We expect to see you in Our camp forthwith, so that you will form the teams necessary._

_Nikolaj I_

He stared at it and felt his mouth fall open. What? The? Fuck? 

Alec grabbed it from him and read it. “What the fuck?”

“What does he write?” Someone shouted. 

“Read it out, read it loud,” they started chanting.

Alec gave it back to him. “Official business,” he shouted. 

It only made the men shout even louder, and stomp their feet to the ground. 

“Read it out, read it loud.”

“They will attack us to get this fucking letter if you don’t read it to them,” Lazaref told him. 

“He’s right, Lesnev.” Glinof and Lanskoy read it over his shoulder. “Fuck,” they both said. 

He glared at Lanskoy. That was his fault. 

“Read it out, read it loud.”

Vasily raised his hand and they went quiet. “It is indeed official business and I am not at liberty to disclose its contents.” They started shouting and protesting and he let them continue for a few moments. “Enough,” he suddenly said loudly and they shut up. “These are direct orders from his Majesty. I cannot disclose them. But I can tell you this. There is no acknowledgment of his actions, nor repentance, let alone an apology,” he said angrily. Honestly! 

“Shame on him,” Roman suddenly shouted and the men around him started booing. 

“Great. We just avoided one mutiny, and now we’ll have another,” Trebyanin muttered.

“How far are we with the signatures?” he asked Lanskoy. 

“We have the ones from the first thirteen regiments and Auxiliary Units 1 to 3, and now we are waiting for those of the other regiments, starting from the 14th Regiment. Do you think we should wait for all of them or start sending them now?”

He smiled slowly. “I had thought it would make sense for him to receive them all, but he will be more irritated if he gets one set first, and then another, and then another…” He turned towards Glinof. “You served under him as well. What do you think?”

Glinof nodded, grinning. “He will be furious.” His smile fell. “But is that wise? Lesnev, your signature is first, and you wrote that fucking declaration that no one else is responsible for the protest and request document. His Majesty here may say what he wants, but we all know that you are the one who could get arrested for inciting mutiny, not him.”

“So what? I want justice, and I am willing to die for it.” He smiled. “Grisha would get it.”

“Madman,” Alec said in Aedleian. 

“No. Free men obey the law because it is right. Slaves obey because of fear, and I refuse to be afraid. I obey the law, and law means justice. I want justice.”

“If His Majesty arrests you, we will start the next mutiny, Sir,” Roman shouted at him. “Even if it’s just the Hundred of us against the whole of his might and his army, we will stand beside you.”

“Roman?” Leonid gasped. 

“Stand for Justice!” Roman shouted, raising his fist and bringing it over his heart like the Quhjani. 

“Stand for Justice,” the other Guards shouted, and so did the Huntsmen next to them. 

Alec stepped next to him. “I will stand beside you for justice, Lesnev. Reds?”

“We stand for justice,” the Reds shouted and moments later everyone did, over and over, stomping their feet or whistling in approval.

“And you?” he asked Glinof and the other Majors behind him. 

“He can’t kill all of us,” he snorted. “I’ll stand next to you, Lesnev.” He took a step forward, and so did everyone else, until they were all standing in one line. 

“Thank you. So, we start sending signatures as soon as we have them?”

“Yes. Let’s send the first set as soon as everyone gets quiet.”

Lanskoy laughed. “I haven’t been so excited since the Winter Solstice Ball. Also, I have heard rumours of a certain… Maxim? Might he be here?”

Glinof groaned. “That young man is frightening. You wouldn’t think a Bosilik so forward.”

Ross and Jones started laughing. “You think Bosilik are shy?”

Vasily ignored them. He opened Carel and Evgeni’s report and started reading it as the men started singing the original of Under one banner, following Roman and the other guards. 

Ah, Grisha would have been so moved to see how loyal the men were, and how much they admired Grisha. They admired Grisha so much, they had even listened to him. Vasily was so moved by their loyalty to Grisha, but he was not surprised. Grisha was just so amazing. He couldn’t wait for him to come back. 

Now that he felt certain that Grisha would get well and come back to him, he would write to him. Or figure out something even more effective. 

He sighed deeply. The Guards stopped singing and looked at him with worry. Moments later everyone was quiet and looking at him. 

“Grisha is so wonderful,” he told them, smiling. “May I read you what Evgeni and Carel have reported?” Not the state secrets, of course! 

Roman and the others sat down, as if they had done when they were about to share stories at the trip. The other men followed suit.

“Story time with Lesnev,” Alec grinned as he also sat down and motioned the other Majors to sit. “And I thought I was safe, since Grisha is away. Come on, Lesnev, read that to us.”

&*&*

Duke Okdranov frowned. “They did what?”

Elik stood up, grinning. “They sang _For the freedom of our land, we stand together_? How marvellous! And who taught them that? I had made sure that no one would hear it, since… I felt unwell for a whole month after singing that.”

Mark smiled at him. “But then you got better, and we were graced with an Imperial Consort most marvellous.”

“Thank you,” Elik smiled. “But, Lev, if there is no mutiny, what are they all doing there?”

Lev glanced at Pyotr and they both looked uncomfortable. 

“Everyone out,” Mark grinned. “Why do we even bother with having our secretaries and under-secretaries and guards here when they only stay in the room for five minutes? Should we have the meetings without them and have them in only when we need them?”

Duke Andrejevich glared at him. “I did not become Secretary of the Council so as to write Everything. No.”

Duke Vladimirov nodded, agreeing with him. 

“Fine.”

“Well, Lev? Pyotr?”

Pyotr looked at them even more awkwardly. “Two reasons. I think that whatever was in that letter that His Majesty sent to the Captain made him so mad that he wants the Regiments there so that he can make His Majesty realise that he will either have his apology or start a mutiny.”

Elik nodded. “That sounds like a very good reason to me. I will also stand for justice beside my brother, if it comes to that.” He could support a mutiny that wanted an apology, couldn’t he? And then Vasya would support him in his quest for an apology from his wretched husband!

“And the second reason?”

“Everyone wants to see the birds fly, and how the torch system works.”

Lev nodded. “Yes, they were saying that they would start experimenting after they finished having tea.”

Duke Okdranov sighed deeply.

“No,” Mark said firmly.

“I only meant that I want to see the experiments,” Duke Okdranov sighed. He suddenly stared at Mark with eyes narrowed. “I will ask Lesnev myself if he will work for me in Development. Just you watch me, Mark.”

“I would like to see the experiments too,” Elik sighed. “Are you sure we can’t go?”

“Well.. we should stay here, just in case….”

A knock interrupted him. 

“Enter.”

Kolya brought in a note for Mark. 

“Thank you, Kolya.”

Kolya stayed where he was. “I was instructed to wait until I have an answer.”

“You may wait outside, young man,” Mark told him as he unfolded it and started reading.

Elik nodded. “Thank you.”

With a sigh, Kolya obeyed.

Mark’s smile fell. 

“What is it? Read it out to us, Mark.”

“All of us?”

Elik nodded. 

“Can’t…”

“For fuck’s sake, Mark, read it,” Duke Okdranov shouted. “We can keep secrets.”

Mark cleared his throat. “ _Dear Cousin Mark, I am sorry for addressing you, but Lesnev is no longer your subordinate and sending this through the proper channels will take time we don’t have. I just received this from my latest informant – the assassin apprehended … was it two days ago? Three? You know whom I mean. As a matter of state security, it is up to the Chancellery to decide what to do (and, again, apologies for not sending it through your office but directly to you)._

_“If you ask my professional opinion? Politically, it would make sense to let His Majesty stay at Ivanhof, and so not be implicated in the mess that is happening here. Yet, even with the Guards and the Huntsmen stationed there, Ivanhof is too big and that man is not working alone anymore. I fear for His Majesty’s security, and even though it would implicate him and make him take sides, it would be safer for him to be here._

_“You decide._ ”

Mark looked at Elik. “And this is the note enclosed with the letter. _Lesnev, my contact at the Capital has just sent me the following order. I swear, I had no idea I had more cousins in the Capital. Lesnev, believe me, and stop us._

_“Dear Cousin,_

_“You will never believe what is happening here and outside as well. There are soldiers moving in and out of the Barracks of the Reds, and everyone is afraid of riots and mutinies. I hope things at Ivanhof are better and that nothing happens to His Majesty. Imagine, if anything happened to him today, like a sudden illness or an accident. Everyone would be devastated and the centre would collapse._

_“I hope you will not mind that two more of our cousins here will be paying you a visit later today since they feel unsafe at the Capital. Your cousin, B._ ”

Elik took a few deep breaths. Francis would get him first. Probably.

“Lesnev is Intelligence?” Duke Okdranov gasped. 

Mark shrugged. 

“Fuck,” Duke Okdranov muttered. “He will never agree to working in Development.”

“That’s not the issue right now,” Elik told them. “The issue is, do I let myself be killed by Francis now or His Majesty later.”

Mark smiled at him. “I don’t think His Majesty will do something so stupid, but, if you want my opinion? I would take my chances with Nikolaj, and go to the Barracks. Worst case scenario…”

Elik smiled slowly. “Lesnev will get me out of the country. Only I will not be able to be a famous singer then. I will be on the run. From His Majesty.”

“What are you talking about?” Duke Vladimirov asked them. 

“Our latest game,” Mark laughed. “What would you be, if you were in exile? I’ll start. Now that His Majesty will no longer be a singer, and I will be on my own, I will run an Orgy Hall.”

Duke Vladimirov laughed. “Why am I not surprised? I’ll play too… I will be…. No, I need more time. Dima?”

Elik smiled as he watched them. It was still morning, and Francis’ men would never be able to get into the council room. They could daydream for a few minutes while he thought what he should do.   
Stay here and look over his shoulder every second, or go there and worry that if a mutiny happened, they would crown him? There would be no Plan Freedom if he went there. He would be trapped, just like Vasya had been trapped in those Barracks for days. 

Duke Theissen smiled. “I’ll be whatever Mavra wants me to be. No, no, I know. Mavra and I will run an exclusive place selling only drinks. You will never guess how talented she is at mixing and making different types of punches. I’ll sell them to the customers, because she can be grumpy with people, but she will make them.”

But if Grisha was getting better, then… there would be no mutiny. 

“Hm,” Duke Okdranov said. “I am good at training dogs, so I will start a business doing that. Or maybe breeding and training lapdogs. Nathalia would enjoy that, and she does like painting, so she would be making the advertisements for our business. Or, she could paint portraits of dogs. Yes, she would like that even more. Adam?”

He had to trust in Luck, as the Bosilik said. But what was Luck? 

Duke Andrejevich grinned. “I would like to work in a newspaper and report the truth without fear. Agafia would just spend my money.”

How many things had to happen at just the right time for Luck to happen? 

“I don’t think you can make much money out of working in a newspaper,” Mark smirked.

“Ah,” he sighed, disappointed. “I’ll need to think about it more, then. Pavel, have you figured out what you will do?”

“No.” 

“We have time,” Elik grinned. What was Luck but training and knowledge and all the things he couldn’t control? 

“And you, Sire? What will you be?”

“I’ll be a cook. I’m great at making savoury things, so maybe we could still work with you, Mark? Vasya will be in charge of desserts and I will do savoury dishes.”

“I would love that. And, have you decided?”

Elik nodded. “I will trust in the professional opinion of my Head of Security. Gentlemen, shall we go see birds fly?”

&*&*

Grigori looked at the wolf cubs. “Have you looked into what I asked? A carriage with springs in the suspension?”

Evgeni stared at him. “You meant that?”

”Of course, I did.”

Carel ran out of the room, and Yulian walked in. “You will never believe this, Sir,” he said as he handed him two letters. 

He opened the first one.

_Dear Lesnev,_

_HM will not stop asking for you to join him. We have been trying our best to stop him but it has gotten so annoying that…_

_I am so sorry to ask you this but, if you are well enough to travel, could you join us for a few days? Maybe he can shut up after that, and stop bothering us._

_Your friend,_

_T. B. (writing on behalf of everyone)_

Ah, fuck, he sighed as he broke the imperial seal on the second one. 

_Dear Count,_

_I know I should let you rest but it would be so good if you could join Us for a few days. We have been thinking, it would be nice to have Our own security team with Us. Could you come and assess the men under my command? It will be quicker than asking Mark to send me some._

_With the utmost admiration,_

_Nikolaj I_

“Ah, fuck.”

“Sir?”

“I will never go home in time for making pickles,” he cried out. “And the kittens will have become adult cats.” At least Vasya will have fully recovered by then!

“Sir?”

“Evgeni, when Carel is back, can you please go and pack our things? His Majesty has ordered us to go to him.” He sighed. “Oh, well, we will go home eventually. Thank all the Honoured Ancestors we don’t have, that we have Dorofea Anishina. She always takes care of everything. Evgeni, what would be a good present for someone as capable and trustworthy as her? She and her children take care of our garden and animals. What should I get her?”

Evgeni smiled. “My mother always appreciates getting new shoes and aprons, but perhaps that is too personal a gift?”

“No, you are right. New shoes and clothes for everyone. And maybe…” He smiled. He’d ask Vasya when they were together where to give a plot of land to her, a plot big enough for her and her children and her children’s children. Or, they could support her children and send them to school. That would be even better. Or maybe both land and schooling? 

Vasya and he, they would figure out how to help her properly now, instead of just employing her. Oh, how wonderful!

&*&*

Elik stared at the famous Barracks of the Reds. From the outside, all one could see was a wall that extended far and wide, with a massive gate, built wide enough to let two carriages pass at the same time, and thrown open as if to welcome anyone.

He nodded and Nikita gave the signal to Gillis, Eynar, Selivan, and Andon to continue riding. 

The soldiers at the gate seemed more interested in sharing gossip, but the moment the one on the right saw him, he shouted, “Holy fuck!”

“Fuck!” shouted even more loudly the soldier next to him. 

Elik tried not to laugh. “I did not expect to be received like that,” he said to Valery and Maxim who were riding next to him.

“His Imperial Majesty,” the first four proclaimed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the first soldier continued screaming. 

“Major? Call the Major. Any Major!”

“They are very excitable,” Elik laughed. And they seemed afraid of him. That was just so funny! He had been so scared of them back at Ivanhof, and yet, they were afraid of him?

Gillis and the others suddenly stopped. 

“What is it?”

Nikita nodded and the four parted. He gasped. No, he had been right to be afraid of them. The courtyard from the walls of the Barracks to a massive, three-storeyed building a few hundred meters away was filled with soldiers all wearing uniforms of different colours, most of them in dark blue. 

“Maxim? Whose are the Blues?”

“His Majesty’s. Only the First and the Ministers’ Regiments have a specific colour. Everyone else is in dark blue, but with different insignia to separate them. The 7th,” Maxim nodded towards a group at their left, “has an old Bosilik 7 and three torches. The 8th,” he nodded towards another group, “has the old 8 and antlers.”

“Oh. I see.” He hadn’t paid attention to that when he’d visited His Majesty up at Oerestand the year before, but he had had other things in his mind then. Ah, how naïve he had been then.

And everyone was staring at him and the Guards so strangely. The soldiers at the entrance had seemed afraid, but these ones looked… cautious? Was that the right word? Elik stared at them as they stared at him, murmuring, their voices a low, almost threatening buzz. 

These men, these hundreds of men he could be afraid of. 

He waited and stared, and they too waited and stared, until suddenly, what felt like hours later, the men at the back of the crowd suddenly started to move, opening a path for the men coming towards him from behind the building. 

As they approached, he smiled. He recognized the quick gait of the blond man heading the group of others. “Brother,” he shouted happily and jumped down from his horse, ignoring how his Guards all gasped. 

“Your Majesty,” Vasya called back. 

“Please, let me through,” he told the men in front of him, and, surprisingly, they did, opening the path for him. 

He hurried towards Vasya, barely aware that Maxim and Valery were trying to catch up with him. He was not afraid of the men anymore. Vasya was there; no one would hurt him. And if they both ended up trapped, they’d figure something out. 

Finally, after a few minutes (how big was this courtyard?) the last of the men separating him from Vasya parted and he saw him.

Vasya tried to bow, and he immediately grabbed him by the arms and hugged him. “Brother,” he sighed, feeling such great relief. 

“Your Majesty?”

“No, no, I’m your brother, and I want everyone to know it.” He smiled at him. “I heard Grisha will recover, right? Our Honoured Ancestors heard you. You asked them to come back to you as he is. And he will.”

Vasya shuddered. “Yes,” he whispered. “He will,” he said, and smiled a little, like he couldn’t believe it.

“He will,” Elik nodded and released him. “So, Brother, I have not been introduced to anyone. And I heard… oh, I heard so many things.”

Vasya smiled. “Let me introduce you to everyone, then. We are at the back, at the shooting range.”

Elik nodded. 

“I will start with those who are here. Your Majesty.”

“Brother,” he cut him off. “I already told the Ministers,” he said, and Vasya stumbled. “What? I am proud of you, and I want you in my family. Fuck whoever doesn’t like it.”

“Language.”

Elik grinned. “See? You’re doing a great job being my big brother already.”

Vasya chuckled. 

Elik didn’t comment on how Vasya looked scruffy and tired. The man knew that. “So, who else is here?” 

“All the Regiments from the 2nd to the 9th .”

“And His Majesty’s Thousand Horsemen,” said a tall man to the right of Vasya, whose face would have looked stern if he didn’t smile.

Hm, he didn’t expect them to join the mutiny that was in the making. 

“This is Major Alec Smith, current commander of the Reds.”

“And eagerly waiting for my replacement to stay a little longer,” he grinned as he looked at Vasya. 

Elik studied Vasya. “Yes, red is a good colour on him, so we will see what we can do.” 

“And this is Major Kirill Lanskoy of the 7th Regiment,” Vasya said as he introduced him to the man on his left, a thin man with a handsome face and the most evenly curved eyebrows he had ever seen.

“Pleased to meet you, Gentlemen. I am Elik.”

“Your Majesty,” they both bowed.

He kept his mouth shut because he was about to tell them that he was there first as Vasya’s brother, and then as His Majesty’s disgruntled husband. No fucking apology? And still not a single letter to him? How dared he? Especially when Francis had assassins in their own Palace! How dared he? What did he take him for? 

Vasya smiled at him. “Cards,” he whispered.

“Oh. Sorry.” He grinned. 

He managed to not seem very annoyed until they reached the shooting range, and there he almost stopped walking. He’d been so naïve to think that the hundreds of men in the courtyard were frightening. No, these ones were frightening. Thousands of them in a space as the large meadow by the river and the forests at the end of Ivanhof, all standing in attention and waiting for them.

“Gentlemen,” Vasya said loudly and Elik shivered. These thousands were waiting for Vasya. “His Imperial Majesty and Regent has honoured us by visiting. Long live His Majesty. Long Live his Regent. Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah.”

Elik shivered. From the 2nd to the 9th Regiment, that was more than ten thousand men almost all in one space, all shouting hurrah in one voice, and stomping their feet. The earth trembled and he felt the sound of their cry in his body.

No wonder Vasya had wanted him to go to Nikolaj in the case of mutiny. They would have torn everyone at Ivanhof apart if Elik denied them. 

Elik nodded and waved at them as he’d been taught, and their cries became even louder. Perhaps Vasya and Mark were right; they seemed to like him. 

He grinned when they stopped. “Did you really sing _For the freedom of our land, we stand together_?” He asked Roman, who was standing at the front row. “Who taught you that?”

“Who else?” Maxim whispered behind him. “He who loves freedom and justice.”

“Ah.” It had to be Vasya, then. He smiled again. “How many marvellous things are happening here.” He turned towards Vasya. “I really want to show everyone how this is danced,” he grinned. “While it is sung.”

“Is that wise?” a Major with round, red cheeks and a smiling face asked him. 

“I stand here, beside you all, for freedom and justice,” he said loudly. “Of course, it.”

The men started cheering like mad. 

“May I have two swords? And…” he turned towards his Guards. He usually practiced with Evgeni or Vanya, but neither of them was there. Who would be the best partner for this? 

“If I may?” Vasya smiled at him. 

He smiled back. “Of course.” 

Since he couldn’t beat them, he would join them. And like Vasya, he would stall them. And hopefully, see the torch system and the birds fly soon! 

&*&*

After performing the sword dance with all the Guards present, and realising what an opportunity they had missed to make a truly Grand Entrance during the trip, it was time for more tea, and then, finally, to see the birds fly! From the top of the Main Building! 

From up there, he could get an even better understanding of the danger they were all in. More than ten thousand men, all angry and armed. He wondered how things were at the Capital. 

Ah, his stupid husband. Why couldn’t he have sent an apology already so that everyone could go home?

“Sire,” Major Trebyanin diverted his attention from below to the dozen men, not in uniform, but plain clothes, who were standing in a line and had various crates next to them. 

The moment they saw him, they fell to their knees. 

“Please, rise.”

“These are the owners of the finest homing pigeons in the Capital, Sire. May I present you Master Agapof.” 

“Pleased to meet you, Master Agapof. You must be so very proud of your birds. May I see them?”

The first of them took out a bird, held it in his hand, and showed it to him. 

“Do they have names?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. They are all such good birds,” the man said poudly.

He smiled. He was impatient, but this was important. They had all come to share their pride in their birds, and be of use. Even if it took an hour, he would talk to them all, and inspect all the birds. 

Major Trebyanin, he realised as he was being introduced to the third man, Master Petakof, was moving him along at just the right speed. It would not take an hour, and then he would see the birds fly!

“As you see,” Major Trebyanin said when the introductions were over, “Each bird has a small message tied to its leg.”

“His Majesty had said they can only carry tiny messages.”

“Indeed, so we are working on creating harnesses for the birds, so they can carry heavier and longer messages on their backs. The Masters,” he smiled at the bird owners, “have said that it could be possible with training.”

“I see. Forgive my ignorant question, but I thought that such matters, like the invention of bird harnesses, were things done at the Development Department of the Ministry of War.”

Majors Trebyanin and Soljenikin snorted. So did Vasya. 

“It’s a good department to have,” Major Soljenikin smiled, “but when it comes to dealing with needs that arise unexpectedly?” He shook his head.

“Why?”

“Because it takes forever for them to… Sire, if we had to do this properly, we would need to write a petition explaining the problem, and requesting them to find a solution. This would have to be approved first by our Colonel. In our case, the 6th,” Major Soljenikin said, “that would be Duke Andrejevich.”

“Alright.”

“Since His Grace is busy, it practically means that first our petition will be assessed by his under-secretaries, then his secretaries, and then him.”

Elik raised an eyebrow. 

“In the case of my regiment, the 8th,” said Major Trebyanin, “the petition needs to be first approved by our Colonel, then passed on to our Major-General, and finally our General.”

“After it gets approved by all the appropriate authorities, it is forwarded to the Ministry of War, where it is assessed by a committee to decide if it is an urgent or a non-urgent request. If it is urgent, then it is sent for approval to the Minister of War’s office, and then passed on to Development.”

“If it is non-urgent?”

The Majors shrugged. “No one ever hears of those petitions again,” Vasya said ominously. 

“We have a theory that…” Major Trebyanin cut himself off.

“Yes?”

“We think that Duke Okdranov uses them to line the beds of his dogs,” Vasya said quietly.

Elik started laughing. “He wouldn’t.”

“Who knows?” Major Trebyanin smiled. “He could. So, it really is quicker to deal with such matters ourselves when a sudden need must be met just as quickly as it arises.”

He really saw their point. 

“Gentlemen, I now have another question. You mentioned your higher-ranking officers. Where are they?”

The Majors shared a look. “We at the Regiments commanded by the Ministers, ignored them,” Major Soljenikin said proudly. 

So, these ones had really mutinied. 

“We got their approval,” Major Trebyanin said, making him realise, that no, everyone had mutinied, “but we decided that, since this was an offence against one of us, only the Majors would lead the troops here. Our commanders are waiting to hear if they have to lead us against His Majesty.”

Elik shivered. “So, you are still considering…” His husband was miserably wretched, but if there was a mutiny, then he would force his men to fight against their brothers-in-arms…. That would be so horrible! 

“Not really,” Major Soljenikin. “Not anymore.” He glanced at Vasya and then Major Trebyanin. “We just want an apology, Sire.”

Major Trebyanin whispered something at Vasya, drawing his attention to one of the birds.

“Also, the men won’t move before they are certain that the Major is fine,” Major Soljenikin told him fast and quietly. 

“Really? But it might take days for Grisha to be completely well, and days for us to find out.”

“Not that Lesnev, this one,” he said, sounding a little impatient. 

He nodded. “He does look awfully tired.”

“And yesterday he…”

“We are ready,” Vasya told them. 

Elik nodded, even though he was curious to hear what Major Soljenikin had wanted to say. But perhaps he didn’t have to. Vasya had performed quite the dramatic monologue there the day before. Truly, perhaps that was why the Bosilik had no theatre. They were all actors! 

The owners of the pigeons suddenly opened the cages. It was just birds being released to fly, but there was something so exciting about seeing them go. “Freedom is so sweet,” he whispered as he watched the birds fly up. 

Vasya nodded.

“Brother?”

“Yes?”

“I think the men want more than an apology,” he told him very quietly. “But the Ministers said I shouldn’t mention it now.”

“I agree with you, but I also agree with them. Let us wait until we have even better news from Nisdruna.” He smiled. “I want to hope we will.”

“You want to hope a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes. The opposite of hope is despair, and I don’t like that.”

“I know what you mean. I used to be so miserable, until I decided I wouldn’t be, and…” He smiled. “You know the rest. When we can, we must ask what the men also want. Valery gave me some ideas of what to expect, but I would like to hear their demands from themselves.”

“Of course, Sire.”

“Brother. So, now we wait until the birds are back?”

“Indeed. And we go test the torch system while we wait.”

“How exciting!”

“Indeed,” all the Majors grinned.

&*&*

Mark finished his tea. “Gentlemen,” he said quietly.

“Yes?”

“I have been thinking about what His Majesty said.”

“He said a lot of things, some of which were… almost mutinous,” Vassily smiled. 

Pavel nodded. “Can you blame him?” 

“If I did something like that to Mavra…” Dima shuddered. “She’s probably drown me in a vat of wine.”

Adam sighed. “His Majesty has behaved most cruelly to his husband. And he’s such a pretty husband too.”

They all nodded. 

“Yes, if he were my husband, I would lock him in our bedroom and… probably lock myself there too because I wouldn’t be able to leave him alone,” Mark said, smirking. 

“You would know, you fucked him twice,” Adam huffed. “I had one chance, and I messed it up.”

Mark was glad he was not the only one who remembered that morning that never happened. He wondered if the others felt the same guilt he had felt, and if they joked about it in order to make themselves feel better about what they had done. 

Vassily nodded. “Me too.”

Pavel grinned, “I didn’t.”

“Ass,” Adam and Vassily glared at him as they laughed. 

“Tempting though he is, I do prefer him as my friend,” Mark smiled at them. 

“And colleague,” Vassily said. “He is not like His Majesty.”

“Yes, His Majesty does tend to make us do a lot of work, while this one works with us,” Adam agreed. 

“That said,” Pavel grinned, “he does tend to disappear and skip work meetings a lot more than his Majesty.”

“Yes, His Majesty always uses afternoon tea time to do more work, while this one has tea!” Dima smiled. “And right now, it is understandable that he has gone to the Barracks, but really, having work meetings in the Garden, while his Guards pose around naked?” Dima shook his head, looking more confused than amused. 

“Nikolaj would never do that,” Mark agreed. “Although, if he hears about it, he might have naked Guards in the Council meeting room.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Pavel laughed. “And I wouldn’t mind either. The Guards are very easy on the eyes.”

“They are,” Dima agreed. “How is it going with… ? Have you tried any of the … is it apples or oranges?”

Pavel snorted. “Apples, but I seem to be as unlucky with them as I have been with the oranges. Really,” he said as he stood up. “Is there anything wrong with me? I have all my hair, all my teeth, all my limbs. I am rich, and I am of mild disposition. Why have all of my advances to potential mates failed? Why? Do you see something I don’t see?”

“Hairs from Zuzu all over your coat?” Adam teased him.

“Maybe it is not meant to be,” Dima told him kindly. 

Pavel sat down, sighing. 

“If it’s any consolation, just think of Their Majesties,” Vassily said. “We all thought that theirs was an unlikely yet admirable match and now… Nathalia thinks that His Majesty here must be the most unfortunate of men to have a husband with such a different outlook and desires than him.”

Mark smiled. Nathalia would have made a great diplomat. 

Dima nodded. “Even Mavra thinks that His Majesty here is most unfortunate. Especially since…” He shook his head, looking incredulous. “You will be as amazed as I was to hear this.”

“What?”

“She says that, since His Majesty here places such value on marital fidelity, he must be feeling even more miserable after the Lesnevs’ shameless display of disgusting loyalty to one another.”

Mark groaned. “Will she never stop disparaging her former cousin?”

“No,” Dima said simply. “But she has a point. The Lesnevs are weird, being so loyal to each other.”

“Ekaterina and I are loyal to each other,” Mark said. 

“Yes, but you also take lovers, like all Bosilik do at some point or other.”

Adam nodded. 

He couldn’t argue with them. They were right. “Alright, perhaps the Lesnevs are a little weird, but they are still my cousins, and you are not allowed to call them weird. Only I am allowed to do that,” Mark huffed. 

Pavel laughed. “Fine, fine. So, Mark, since we are not allowed to discuss how weird the Lesnevs are, why don’t you tell us what you thought about what His Majesty said?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said, you wanted to discuss something that His Majesty had said.”

Mark took out his notebook and had a look. “Oh, yes! He said how he wanted to ask the soldiers about their grievances.”

“And we all thought that this was not the right time,” Adam said.

“The same way that we agreed that it might not be a good idea if we all went to see the experiments. These are our troops that have mutinied against us. We have to pretend we don’t agree with them, even when we do,” Vassily sighed. “I do wonder about the torch communication system.”

“Yes, yes, I agree with these things,” Mark nodded, “but… What if we drafted an Imperial Decree addressing some of their known grievances? Wouldn’t that make them all happy and go home?” He looked at them seriously. “Gentlemen, the Reds have been feeding more than ten thousand men for three days now. Do you have any idea what a deficit this will create in the Reds’ budget? And…” He shuddered, “if they are still mad at me, they might make me pay for it out of my own pocket! Gentlemen, I already have to build a new Riding Hall for them, and thus abandon my plans to build a new palace for the cats I want to have. If I have to pay for the food these thousands of men eat, I will not be able to afford a new palace for the cats even next year!”

“Mark, surely you can use one of your existing homes for your cats,” Vassily told him. 

“Yes, I could, but I want this to be the most perfect cat palace that ever was. With high perches and corridors linking the top of the walls, and thousands of boxes of all sizes and hiding places everywhere.”

They all looked at him strangely. 

“What is so weird about that?”

“Mark, how many cats do you need?”

“Many!”

&*&*

The Captain looked down at his plate and then pushed it aside. Maxim frowned. He had to let the Cooks of the Reds know that the Captain only ate cold soup when he was unwell. What had they thought, bringing fish pies as the main course? 

The Young Lord glared at him. “Brother,” he said loudly enough for Maxim to hear, even though he was seated two tables away. 

The Captain said something quietly, and before the Young Lord could reply, he had risen from his seat, nodded to the others Majors at the table and started walking out of the Hall. 

Maxim was surprised at how quiet everyone went the moment the Captain stood up, and how their eyes followed him out of the room. 

Major Smith huffed. “What are you looking at?” He shouted. “He must reply to His Majesty.”

The Young Lord stood up. “And I need to find out what His Majesty wrote to him. Vasya,” he shouted as he ran out of the hall, Eynar and Selivan running behind him. 

Maxim sighed. “The Captain is not Oleg,” he said, sighing again and making Valery grin. 

“Who’s Oleg?” A tall, thin, dark-haired Major asked him. Hm. Maxim studied him. He was handsome enough. He was a little bit bigger than him, but not by much. He had dark hair and a pleasant smile. And perfectly curved eyebrows. Hm. 

Valery immediately slid a little further away on the bench, leaving space for the Major to sit between them. 

“Oleg is His Majesty’s dog,” Maxim said.

“Ah,” the Major laughed, “Lesnev is definitely not Oleg, then. Now, if His Majesty had a cat, that would be a different story,” he grinned. “Major Kirill Lanskoy, pleased to meet you. Maxim and Valery, right? I have heard so many things about you.”

Maxim smiled a little. “I haven’t, but I’m always willing to learn more about the person I am talking to.” 

Valery shifted a little more, grinning. 

“Well, I was in the same class as Lesnev and Lesnev, and…” He grinned. “I’m a simple person, really. I prefer honeymead to beer, I like good food, and sleeping in, when I have the time.”

Maxim nodded. “I like good food too.”

They stared at each other. 

“I’m not as good a cook as Vasya, I’m not even as good as Grisha, but I know all the good places to eat. Maybe…”

“Maybe,” Maxim nodded.

Valery frowned. 

Maxim studied Major Lanskoy. He was handsome. He was nice. He must have been a friend of the Captain and the Major, if he knew that they cooked well. Why was he thinking about it? He filled at least half of his criteria. He had to try him out. He stood up. “Why bother waiting until we can have dinner somewhere? We both know to what the dinner will lead, and we can do that upstairs.”

Major Lanskoy raised an eyebrow. “You are forward.”

“Yes,” he grinned. “Also, I am a very generous man. Valery?”

Valery studied Major Lanskoy. “Not bad. You want a second opinion?”

Maxim nodded. “If you don’t mind,” he told them. 

Leonid stood up from where he was sitting at the table behind theirs. “Do you want a third opinion too, Maxim?”

“The more, the better,” he said seriously. “Major?”

“Why not? Wouldn’t be the first time,” he grinned. “In fact, if you want to have more opinions, I am happy with that.”

Maxim grinned. Great, the man satisfied the ‘pervert’ criterion as well. He stood up. “Brothers,” he shouted, “Who wants to help me with some personal assessment?”

Major Lanskoy reddened. “You really are frighteningly forward,” he muttered. 

“Don’t worry,” Maxim heard Valery tell him, “We’ll try to keep the details out of Maxim’s report to the Captain. Unless, you want him to know. Do you?”

Lanskoy stared at them. “You really tell him Everything?”

“Of course, we operate on the principle of honesty between brothers.”

Lanskoy started laughing. “Oh, this is so good. This is hilarious. Ah,” he finally wheezed. “Tell me, why does His Majesty keep calling Lesnev ‘brother’?”

“I guess because we’re all brothers after our journey to the west, so why not?” Maxim told him honestly. 

“Yes, why not,” Lanskoy laughed. 

“You mind?”

“No, I just think it’s both funny that perhaps the shyest of our class has an emperor running behind him, calling him ‘brother’ and making him as red as his coat, and…” Lanskoy smiled a little, “and sweet too. Vasya likes having a family, and the more members it has, the better.”

“You’re not jealous?” Roman turned towards them and asked him. 

“Why? Vasya is my friend. I’m happy for him, the way he would be happy for me if that happened to me. Although, frankly, I’m glad this is not happening to me.” He grinned. “His Majesty seems very…”

“What?” they all asked, and Maxim could see they were all ready to beat him up if he dared say anything bad about their Young Lord.

“Very young,” he smiled. “And full of ideas. That’s not for me, dealing with young people who want to change the world.”

“You’re happy to fuck me, even though I’m younger than His Majesty,” Maxim said. “And I would like a different world too. I think you would too.”

Major Lanskoy studied him. “Yes, you are right. That makes me a hypocrite, doesn’t it?” He gave them all a very charming smile. “Gentlemen, we are united by our vision of a different world, but you are right, you are too young for me. Or rather, I am too old for you. I am really pleased to meet you, Maxim the Most Forward. I hope one day all Bosilik will be as honest as you. Gentlemen, I will see you later.”

Maxim stared as Lanskoy turned around and went back to the table with the Majors. “What happened here?”

“I think we just got turned down by a Man of Principles,” Valery said.

“I think you did,” Roman told them with a soft, understanding smile. “I’m sorry, Brother.”

Maxim shrugged. “Oh, well, I am certain that somewhere there is someone who will be right for me,” he said quietly. 

Leonid hugged him.

“Anyone interested in comforting me?” he asked them. 

“Maxim,” they all shouted, shocked, when several strangers from further down their table, and the tables on either side of theirs raised their hands. 

“How? You were only here for four hours yesterday. How?”

Maxim grinned as he started pointing towards the dark-haired soldiers raising their hands. “I’m not just Most Forward, I’m also Magnificent, and Marvelous.” He climbed on the bench, and from there on the table. “This body was made to be shared, Brothers!” he shouted, pointing at himself. 

Everyone around them started cheering.

“Why do you even ask, Roman?” Leonid smirked. “He’s Maxim!”

&*&*

Elik frowned. He listened to the noise coming from the Mess Hall, right next to the office they had commandeered for Official Business. Ah, how he missed the days when Official Business meant playing with kittens. 

“Why are they shouting Maxim’s name?”

“Because he’s Maxim,” Vasya smiled indulgently. “One does not wonder about Maxim’s mysteries. One just accepts them.”

“He is…” Words were not good enough to describe him. 

“Yes, he is,” Vasya agreed, still smiling. He looked down and his smile fell. “I still don’t know what to reply.”

“Will you go there, as he commands you?”

“Of course, not,” Vasya said, glaring at the letter. “Forgive me. I know he wouldn’t write this unless he was certain that Grisha will get well, but…”

“And still no letter to me,” Elik whispered miserably. 

“Do you need another hug?”

“Yes, please.” Vasya opened his arms and Elik hugged him. “I am so sorry, Vasya. He’s been so horrible to you.”

“He’s been horrible to you too.”

Elik sighed. “He has been, and I don’t know what’s worse. That he didn’t care if his punishment would kill Grisha, or that he doesn’t care that I live.”

“For me, both are equally bad, but, technically, it was within his rights to punish Grisha the way he did, so...”

Elik stepped back and looked at him. How tired he looked of it all. “How can you say that?” he shouted, not caring that his annoyance showed. They were alone; he could be as honest as he wanted. 

“He only gave Grisha ten lashes. That is the maximum a Master can give to his servant without a trial and judgment, and we are all His Majesty’s servants. The other ten were meant for me, and Grisha did not have to…” Vasya sat down and let his head fall on the desk. “Why didn’t I send a second report to him directly when I could?”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because protocol says that Mark…” He looked up at Elik, his expression one of utter misery. “I have broken rules before, when the rules made no sense. Why did I obey this one?” he sighed, and Elik was frightened that he was about to start crying. “Ah, but that is not the issue we were discussing. No, that was that he was more horrible to you, because it was within his rights to discipline a servant, but you are his Equal, his One and Only. How could he?”

“Yes, how could he?” Elik repeated, and he too sat down. “Vasya, I am so confused. I am angry and hurt and…” He sighed deeply. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to scream. And hit him.”

Vasya nodded. “Then scream. And you can try hitting me, if you like.”

Elik was shocked and horrified. “No.”

“Then, we have bags at the Training Hall if you want to hit something.”

“I do.” 

“Then, what are we waiting for?” 

Elik grinned. “Indeed, what? To the Training Hall.” He stood up and walked to the door. The moment he opened it, he saw that Selivan and Eynar were no longer alone. “Sorry,” he told them and closed the door again. “Vasya, there are so many people out there. Waiting,” he whispered.

Vasya nodded miserably. “They were bad when I first came to see what was happening, but they became worse since yesterday morning. I … I suppose you heard about it.”

“Yes.” He walked back towards the single desk in the room and sat down, making Vasya sit as well. “You are so lucky to have Grisha, and Grisha is so lucky to have you.”

Vasya looked at him strangely, and then shook his head. “You know,” he said after a sigh, “it took Lady Irina’s words to realise the great injustice between men and women, even though I should have been aware of it from when I was her age. My own father had suggested I keep Grishka as my concubine, when he learned that I was having an affair with him. If Natasha had been having an affair, and came unchaste to our marriage bed, I would have the right to divorce her, but I could go there, just as unchaste, and no one would say a word. Isn’t that unfair?”

“Yes, very much so, but I hope you don’t suggest that my sister should be having affairs before she gets married.”

Vasya reddened. “Your Majesty,” he gasped. “Her Excellency is still a child. Of course, I am not suggesting anything like that. I am just saying, our society treats men and women just as differently as it treats free people and slaves, and Bosilik and non-Bosilik, and that is wrong and unjust.”

“Ah.”

“In any case, we are losing complete track of what was the first issue,” he said, taking out His Majesty’s letter and putting it back on the desk, “or the second issue, which is how you will deal with your feelings about what His Majesty has done.”

“Yes, we are,” Elik agreed. If Vasya didn’t want to talk about things, he would not push. He suspected that if he did, then Vasya would start crying and that would be horrible. He much preferred Vasya smiling, but since that wouldn’t be happening these days, at least he’d make sure not to make him sad. Well, sadder than he was. 

Vasya took a piece of paper and started writing, reading his words out loud.

_Your Imperial Majesty,_

_Thank you for the authorization. A team is already on its way, so there is no need for me to join you at the camp._

_Your most humble and devoted servant,_

_V L_

Elik started laughing. “Your expression,” he said. “You look like you want to punch him.”

“Perhaps I do,” he said very quietly. 

“Well, you will have to wait, because when I see him, I will punch him. That…” he growled. “How could he do this to me?” He sighed. “Do you think he ever loved me?”

“Elik, he…” Vasya sighed as well. “I don’t know anymore. I thought he did. Elik, at Sorain he looked at you with so much desire and …”

“One doesn’t have to love what one desires,” he cut him off. 

“That is true,” he said quietly. “Do you still want to go to the Training Hall and punch something?”

“I’m not sure.” His stomach suddenly made a noise. “But I wonder if they still serve food at the Mess Hall. Vasya, I think I’m hungry.”

&*&*

Grisha bit his lips, but he couldn’t stop his moan. “Ah, I see now you why you insisted I get better before we set off,” he whispered to Evgeni and Carel. The slightest motion of the carriage jarred him badly, and made everything inside him hurt twice as much. No position was comfortable, no matter how he tried to sit. He’d ended up lying on his stomach on one of the two seats, but even that was uncomfortable. Perhaps he could try riding a horse whenever they stopped. Fuck, everything really hurt. 

“Should we tell you a story, Sir?” Carel asked him.

“Or sing you something?” Evgeni said.

He stared at them miserably. 

“Perhaps if you told us a story?” Carel grinned.

He moaned. “Perhaps that would be better.”

“But not a battle description,” Evgeni begged him softly. “We prefer love stories.”

Carel nodded, smiling. 

He grinned. “Yes, I can believe that. Maybe you should tell me a story, after all. I don’t know any love stories.”

“How can you say that, Sir? You and the Captain…” Evgeni sighed dreamily. 

He snorted. Yes, they loved each other, but their story was no different than the story of any other couple. “There’s nothing interesting in our love story. We met, we fell in love, we got married.”

He loved Vasya madly, with the same intensity as when he’d first fallen in love with him, but every year made his love even deeper, until they married, and then he realized how much Vasya loved him back. He’d ruined Vasya’s life, and felt badly about it, until he realized that Vasya didn’t mind, and he meant it when he smiled like Grisha was the only person that mattered to him. 

There was nothing to tell. “Why don’t you tell me more about your parties at Ustvela? These are good stories, and entertaining too.”

Carel and Evgeni grinned. “We can do that.”

“This time, I will start,” Carel said. 

He smiled. Ah, how happy he was that Vasya had gone to that trip. He must have had so much fun!

&*&*

Maxim stretched his whole body, rubbed his head against the chest of the man lying behind him, caressed the neck of a man with his left hand, played with the hair of another man with his right, and teased Valery’s belly with his toes. Valery grinned at him and untangled himself from the three soldiers wrapped around him. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” He shifted up the bed and slid between Maxim and the man to his right so he could kiss first Maxim and then the man. “What’s your name again?”

“Lyosha,” the man laughed. “Yours?”

“Valya.”

They kissed again and the sound was exciting. 

Not just for him, he realized when one the men who had been with Valery started kissing his left ankle and the other began running his fingers on his right calf. Maxim smiled at them. “Ready for round two? You know what we say?”

“Round one is for practice,” Valery and he said together. 

The man to his left laughed and the one on whom Maxim was lying shifted so they could kiss. 

“Ah, this is so much better than fighting,” he suddenly said. 

“Eh?”

“Making love, not war,” Maxim continued. “As much as I love the sneaky stuff, I don’t like war. Or killing.”

The soldiers stopped and looked at him strangely. “What a strange thought,” one of them said. 

“The Captain always says that Love is Wonderful,” Maxim told them seriously.

Valery laughed. “That’s not what he means, though, Maxim.”

“I think he should mean this,” he grinned. He caressed the men next to him. “Can you imagine if, instead of organizing mutinies here and there, the Captain and the Major had protested by staying in bed? Together? Naked?”

Valery grinned, but the soldiers of the Reds looked at him seriously. 

“I would pay to see that,” one of them suddenly said, with an excited look.

“Oh, yes,” the one behind Maxim groaned. “Remember the last time the Major, your Captain, was here for lunch?”

All the soldiers made a noise of agreement.

“What happened?” Valery asked, lazily caressing Lyosha.

“They looked at each other,” the one behind Maxim said. 

“So?” Maxim kissed the man to his left on the hollow of his throat. 

“You could tell that one imagined the other naked. And then we did,” he said, with an embarrassed grin. 

“Oh, yes,” the one kissing Maxim’s left leg whispered and groaned. “I would happily join a protest where they just lay in bed naked and stare at each other.”

Maxim shivered, just trying to imagine that. 

“And I would pay to see Their Majesties fuck. How were they?”

“Oh, let me tell you all about it!”

&*&*

Vasily suddenly looked up from his empty bowl of cold soup. He hadn’t expected that they would serve cold soup at the Reds’ Barracks, since he knew that Alec didn’t care for soups in the summer, and Grisha, despite liking good food, was happy with whatever one served him as long as it was decent, but how happy he was. Cold soup was so comforting in the summer. 

“It’s been a dry summer,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“No, nothing. I know it’s important, but I also don’t know why,” he grinned awkwardly. He looked at the men who were still at the Mess Hall and had another idea, one that made more sense. “Sire?”

Elik huffed, but didn’t protest. 

“Were you seen leaving Ivanhof? 

“Yes, of course.”

“I think you should go back.”

Elik stared at him as if he were mad. 

“Not you,” he said quietly. He looked at the men who were still at the Mess Hall. “I will need help.”

“What do you need?” Lanskoy asked him immediately. 

“Someone brave and loyal enough to risk his life for His Majesty here.”

Alec nodded. “The Reds are at your disposal.”

“It has to be someone with red hair and of similar build to His Majesty. Someone who will look like him from a distance.”

“What are you thinking?” Elik and Glinof asked him at the same time. 

“How to flush out my prey.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s simple, really. Gentlemen, we need to hide His Majesty while he is also visible. How do we do that?” He smiled. “Remember how Emperor Mikhail I was so afraid of being murdered that he had three men who looked like him in his employment? And no one knew if he was in a procession or audience or one of his doubles? Oh, I am slow these days. His Majesty needs a double, but he has to be visible and everyone must think it’s His Majesty. And he has to be brave and ready to risk his life, because…”

“Fucking…” Elik huffed angrily. 

Vasily looked at him exasperated. That was a fucking state secret! “Sire, language,” he cut him off. “Because things are so volatile, right now, and I am a little paranoid, as you all know,” he smiled. 

Elik looked embarrassed and he nodded. 

Trebyanin and Volonkof grinned. “Nothing wrong with a little paranoia when you’re an officer.” Volonkof touched his dagger. “This one gets more caresses than my wife,” he said proudly. 

They all nodded. 

Sorokin grinned. “I like the idea. Choose anyone from the 4th. We are light-haired. In fact,” He stood up and raised his hand. “Ilin, Gavrilov, come here,” he shouted. 

Two lieutenants rose and approached them. 

He really was slow! “Ah, of course, Viktor, Damien,” Vasily grinned. “Thank you, Sorokin.”

“Don’t mention it. Does that mean that I will have a new lieutenant now?” he grinned, glancing at Elik. 

“No, he will be with me. I think my Guard should be composed of Grisha’s men from this afternoon, don’t you think? With your permission, I need to go over a few things with everyone,” he said, nodding towards Viktor and Damien. 

“This is all so exciting,” Lanskoy laughed. “Imagine, if I were now with Maxim, I would have missed all this fun.”

Elik stared at him, stunned. “Maxim turned you down?”

“Oh, no, Sire, I turned him down.”

He and Elik were shocked. “You turned down Maxim? I did not expect that!” Vasily told him. 

Lanskoy laughed as loudly as he could. “Me neither. Gentlemen, I have grown up!”

&*&*

“Enter,” Mark shouted, annoyed. This was supposed to be a draft, why was it taking them so long?

One of Elik’s Special Guards came into the Council Meeting room. “Urgent message from His Majesty a….”

“Give it here,” he said and grabbed the note. “Do you need to wait for your answer here? Do it outside.” He sighed the moment he was out. “His Majesty is being too indulgent with those young men.”

“Only him?” Pavel grinned and winked at him.

“It’s not the same.” He huffed. 

“Well, read it to us,” Adam said. 

“Alright. _Dear Chancellor, We have decided to stay at the Barracks, but We will also be at Ivanhof. _That’s all.” They stared at him. “Really, that’s all it says.”__

__“What does he mean?”_ _

__There was another knock on the door. “Sir, I have another message for you,” the same Guard told him as he gave him another note, with an expression that clearly conveyed his annoyance._ _

__“Why didn’t you give it earlier?”_ _

__“Because you cut me off, Sir. How do those two put up with you is a mystery,” he grumbled in a low voice that was quite loud as he left the room and closed the door himself, letting it close with a bang._ _

__He shook his head and opened the note, instead of arguing with his friends and colleagues who seemed ready to start laughing it him. “It’s from Vasya,” he told them, and immediately they grew attentive. “ _Your Grace, His Majesty will remain at the Barracks of the Reds with us from this afternoon. We are sending back his double. Please, treat him as if he were His Majesty and allow him to roam the Gardens tonight and tomorrow as he pleases, as well as not appearing for lunch, tea, and dinner. I am hoping that this will neutralize the cooking cousin, but make the others two appear – as it would be stupid to send two men with the same specialization as the man already here. At least, that’s what I think.__ _

___“If you must conduct any official business with His Majesty, I can guarantee safe passage for Duke Theissen. I am sorry, Chancellor, but you are still banned from entering the Barracks, Duke Okdranov cannot be seen to endorse a mutiny among the troops, and Dukes Andrejevich and Vladimirov are known supporters of His Majesty there. It would be best if any official business could wait for a day, though._ _ _

___“I am certain Francis’ men will act today or tomorrow, while this mess is ongoing. If we have more good news later today and tomorrow, then the men will go back to their own stations peacefully soon. So, within a few days, the opportunity of creating more chaos among us will be lost. They have to act._ _ _

___If they do not act, we will figure something out. His Majesty cannot pretend to be Lieutenant Ilin for too long. Perhaps we should use doubles for him until the threat is gone. I will send a formal request to Duke Okdranov to use men from the 4th Regiment._ _ _

___“Your most humble servant,_ _ _

___“V L_.”_ _

___p.s. Mark? I just realized that this is all my fault. I am so very slow, Cousin. I almost caused Grisha’s death twice. Do you think he will forgive me? I can’t forgive myself before he does._ Mark sighed as he read it. His cousin was not slow; he was totally and completely missing the obvious! _ _

__“That’s good news, isn’t it?”_ _

__“There’s a post scriptum that is personal,” he told them. He glanced at the draft. “At least we have a day more for working on it.”_ _

__Vassily smiled. “And you can tell him that his request is granted.” He suddenly gasped. “If I ask for Lesnev in exchange for the men from my regiment, would that be abusing my authority?”_ _

__“Yes,” they all told him._ _

__Mark glared at him. Why couldn’t he stop trying to steal Vasya from him?_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Valery hugged Maxim as they walked out of the communal washing area. “So, what did you think of them?”_ _

__Maxim shook his head. “I couldn’t even remember their names. And who were those who came in during Round three? That was a bit rude.”_ _

__“You didn’t turn them down.”_ _

__Maxim chuckled. “They were rude, but appreciative. How could I?”_ _

__“Is that the Young Lord? Why is dressed like a lieutenant of the Greens?”_ _

__They hurried down the stairs, and yes, Valery had been right, it was their Young Lord coming out of a small office next to the Mess Hall, followed by their Captain and a young man he didn’t recognize.  
“Your Maj…”_ _

__He shook his head. “I’m a lieutenant now,” he grinned. “I’ve just been demoted,” he laughed._ _

__Their Captain and the man next to him sighed._ _

__“It’s the truth,” he laughed. “I was Commander General of the Quhjani army until fifteen minutes ago. Now that I am lieutenant, though, I want to do what lieutenants do. And that is not following Counts around. That is for privates.”_ _

__Their Captain sighed again. “Sire, I just want to keep you safe.”_ _

__“And I want to know what the men think. Maxim, Valery, you mingled with them. Tell me, what do they think?”_ _

__Maxim felt his cheeks grow warm. Valery looked at him with wide, pleading eyes._ _

__“Maxim, what is the matter? What has turned you speechless?”_ _

__With a deep breath, Maxim approached the Young Lord. “Forgive me,” he said as he leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “The Reds think that the Major and the Captain together are a beautiful couple, and they would love to see them naked. Together.”_ _

__The Young Lord nodded. “I completely agree,” he told Maxim just as quietly immediately._ _

__Together, they stared at the Captain until Valery suddenly hit him. “What?”_ _

__“Enough.”_ _

__The Captain looked at them all. “Out with it, Maxim,” he said patiently._ _

__“Well…. The Reds would like to see you and the Major naked, because they think you look good together.”_ _

__The young man next to him nodded shyly. “Not just the Reds,” he muttered._ _

__The Captain stared at them. “They do? Us?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Oh.” He shrugged. “Oh, well, if they want to, they have to wait until the Winter Solstice Ball.” He suddenly let out a sigh even more miserable than any of the Young Lord’s during the trip. “If we have one.”_ _

__“You will,” they all said._ _

__“That is…” the Captain smiled at them a little. “What time is it?” He checked his watch. “Four. We could practice with the torches some more, and see how the harnesses for the pigeons look.”_ _

__“Or we could go and play for trifles,” the Young Lord grinned. “I want to practice my playing cards skills. Oh, Maxim,” he continued, taking him by the arm, “Valery,” he said, also linking their arms, “You missed the great news! I am here and on my way to Ivanhof now! I’ll tell you everything,” he said as he started to lead them back into the Mess Hall._ _

__& *&*_ _

__Peter the Short stood up the moment Filon and Artyom came into the hall. “Seriously, how can you stand him?”_ _

__Everyone stopped and stared._ _

__Filon and Artyom stood behind their seats. “He’s not bad,” Filon said._ _

__“Not at all.”_ _

__“He’s rude,” Peter the Short continued._ _

__Stepan smiled. This was how he used to imagine a council meeting of Elders to be, with each member of the Council giving their opinion freely and without fear. Even six months later, it amazed him to see this freedom of speech among equals in the Imperial army. He’d never have imagined that._ _

__Filon and Artyom shared a look as they sat down, and whispered something._ _

__Peter the Short, shaking his head, took his seat again._ _

__“He’s very worried about the Captain,” Filon said quietly. “Very.”_ _

__“But the news was good today, right?”_ _

__“Yes, but that was the morning’s news, and there’s a messenger at around seven or eight with more news. What if the news is bad?”_ _

__Stepan spat three times on the floor._ _

__“Don’t you say that, it’s bad luck,” Roman said. “The Captain still looks so miserable,” he sighed._ _

__Filon and Artyom nodded._ _

__“It’s bad enough that the Young Lord is now trapped at the Barracks too,” Nikita whispered. “We need good news!”_ _

__Gillis nodded._ _

__“And now Viktor is putting himself in danger as well,” Sila said, looking worried._ _

__Jan sighed. “I really hope they catch those… cousins.”_ _

__Stepan nodded, even though he knew as well as everyone else that the Young Lord would be safe only when they stopped their leader._ _

__Bram suddenly ran into the Hall. “The cousins,” he panted._ _

__They all stood up. “What?”_ _

__Bram ran out and they followed him, Stepan with them, in time to see a man with his hands tied being led to the basement._ _

__The young man who really looked a lot like the Young Lord from a distance, tried to follow them down, but two of the Quartermasters stopped him._ _

__Bram and Sila ran towards him. “Viktor, how are you?”_ _

__“I’m fine,” he smiled as they all surrounded him. “I never thought I’d find such excitement in the palace,” he grinned._ _

__Stepan studied him. Even up close he looked like the Young Lord, but he was not as pretty._ _

__“What happened?”_ _

__“Can you tell us?”_ _

__“Must you return to the palace immediately?”_ _

__Viktor glanced towards Quartermaster Neimar. When he nodded, he grinned. “Maybe I can join you for dinner?”_ _

__Sila grabbed him by the arm. “Come. So, what happened?”_ _

__“As per my orders, after changing clothes, I went to the gardens. I walked around for a while and then told Flor and Simeon that I wanted to be alone.” He grinned. “Flor and Simeon were very loud in protesting, but they did leave me. So, I went to the Conservatory and walked around some more… Do you think the Captain has been there? He would love it.”_ _

__“Viktor,” Bram whined._ _

__“Yes,” he laughed. “I was strolling around, admiring the plants, when I heard someone behind me. So, I knelt down to look at some flowers, and when he tried to strike me, I fell down, kicked him down him down, and tied him up with my garters.”_ _

__Stepan stared at him._ _

__“It doesn’t sound very heroic when I say it, does it?” Viktor continued laughing. “Bram, maybe we can show them?”_ _

__“With pleasure. But if you dare hit me for real, I will hit you back.”_ _

__Selivan grinned beside him. “Want to bet that these two will miss dinner because they’ll mock fight?”_ _

__Stepan shook his head._ _

__“Roman?”_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Elik was shocked at how quiet everyone became when the messenger came into the Hall. “Letters from Nisdruna,” he shouted. “In the Reception Hall.”_ _

__Within moments, everyone stood up, abandoning their card games in the middle and ran out. “Won’t you go and see if there are letters for you?” he asked Vasya._ _

__“No, they bring mine to me.”_ _

__He hadn’t even finished when the messenger approached their table. “Here, Sir.”_ _

__“Only these?”_ _

__“We put the others in the anteroom of the Captain’s office.”_ _

__“Thank you.”_ _

__“I wonder if His Majesty has written to his husband,” Elik said quietly as Vasya opened the first of the letters that were given to him._ _

__“I asked the Guards who will come here tomorrow to bring your correspondence here.”_ _

__“Ah, thank you.” Vasya always thought ahead. He sighed. How he wished he had a husband like Vasya._ _

__“Irina is so wise,” he whispered._ _

__“Hm?” Vasya looked up for a moment._ _

__“Nothing.” She really was. She hadn’t been impressed by His Majesty, but the moment she had seen Vasya, she had realized his worth. How he wished he had had some of her wisdom. He snorted. As if he had had a choice in the matter. Well… he had but… this was too confusing. He turned to look at Vasya instead of thinking of his marriage._ _

__Vasya read and read, with a strange expression (it was as if he looked guilty, but why?), until suddenly it changed, and Elik could not guess anymore. “Sire,” he said as he stood up, “I must talk to the men.” He looked at the messenger. “Georgi, can you tell them to gather at the shooting range?”_ _

__“Of course.” He ran out._ _

__“Sire, please, be patient. The men only need a few words about Grisha, but we really need to talk.”_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Mark finished reading the latest report from Vasya, including the letter from Carel and Evgeni, to the other ministers._ _

__“This is…” Adam shivered. “Maybe we should do as His Majesty did, and offer incense at the Shrine of Ancestral Honour tomorrow.”_ _

__He nodded. “I agree.”_ _

__“We will need His Majesty, though,” Pavel said. “The real one, not his double.”_ _

__“I agree,” he said again._ _

__“At least, that means that they will disband soon. Doesn’t it?” Vassily asked them._ _

__“I think so. If His Majesty’s men have agreed to get so well as to start moving, then the men here will also have to go back to their posts and barracks.”_ _

__“And the people of the Capital will stop barricading themselves. No shops or taverns have opened in two days, and no one seems to have left their houses. It’s so frightfully empty they tell me,” Dima said, frowning._ _

__He nodded. “I will write to them and let them know.”_ _

__“Thank you.”_ _

__He started writing his reply even before they had left the council meeting room._ _

___Dear Vasya,_ _ _

___I wonder if you have received Sokolov’s report. Perhaps you haven’t – he wouldn’t send you a report in progress. One of the cousins has been apprehended while trying to murder ‘His Majesty’ and is being interrogated as I write. I have no idea if they will serve him cake, though._ _ _

___After receiving Carel and Evgeni’s report, and given the seriousness of the situation, the Ministers and I have decided to offer incense to Luck tomorrow. We will send Ilin back in the morning and escort His Majesty from there to the Capital. I’m sorry._ _ _

___This would be your chance to escape the Barracks, Vasya. Say you want to offer incense – no one will disagree with that._ _ _

___In reply to your question: we have not received any letters for His Majesty here. Neither have I, for that matter. Vasya, what is Nikolaj thinking? He clearly cares about his husband, he clearly feels regret for what he did to Grisha, he finally realized that his idea of royal brotherhood is not one shared by his brothers. Why hasn’t he written?_ _ _

___And, in regard to your post scriptum from your earlier letter – Vasya… If Grisha hadn’t forgiven you (as if he has something to forgive), would he reject yet another promotion for you? Would he ask for immunity for you and your team? Sometimes I wonder about you, Cousin._ _ _

___I really hope you will relax a little tonight._ _ _

___Your cousin Mark who loves you very much_ _ _

__When he looked up, he saw Filon and Artyom waiting for him by the door. “You are not supposed to he here,” he told them._ _

__“You mind?” They asked him seriously._ _

__Somehow, he felt that he was being tested. What was the right answer?_ _

__Ekaterina would tell him to do the proper thing. Follow protocol and kick them out – if not discipline them._ _

__Nikolaj would follow his lust and drag them over, lay them on the table, and fuck them._ _

__Vasya would get up and follow them._ _

__What was he to do?_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Vasily sighed as soon as Elik finally left Grisha’s office. Elik was getting too attached to him, and he was just as fond of him. This was not good._ _

__He started writing._ _

___Barracks of the Reds, 28th FF_ _ _

___My dearest Grishka,_ _ _

___I am only writing this now because finally I have more than hope that it will find you well._ _ _

___Here, everything has been crazy. Alec calls the Barracks ‘the Madhouse’ and it has never been a more apt description than now. You probably have learned already that your Reds, as well as the other Regiments in and around the Capital organized themselves and decided to mutiny._ _ _

___Somehow, I found myself their leader. Actually, this is a lot more complicated. You may say that I positioned myself to be their leader, and the troops admire and respect you so much that they allowed it. I know the Guards are making detailed reports of everything here, and so do your Huntsmen, so I will ask them to compile everything they have recorded and remember and make one proper report of everything that has happened here because, right now, I do not have the energy and it is a long story and…._ _ _

___Or, you could wait for the copy of the report I will give to my immediate superiors, who are Their Majesties. I am hoping to start working on it tomorrow._ _ _

___Grishka, I am so sorry! Not only did I agree to lead the men, I also said that I would kill HM if your punishment killed you. I really am a traitor. You shouldn’t want to be with me. Not when I get rightly punished for my crimes. Promise me?_ _ _

___Also, the men REALLY listen to me, because they REALLY ADMIRE YOU! It is frightening. Grisha, I fear that we are proper Problems! We have been called troublemakers in the past, but this is us causing trouble to an unprecedented degree._ _ _

___At least you haven’t done anything wrong. Perhaps HM will exile you, and then you can travel the world, as we’ve always wanted. You will travel for me too, my husband, won’t you?_ _ _

___I admit to being tempted to ask Sokolov to spirit you away, but I know that you would not want that and…. I am SO VERY SLOW, Grishka. I only realized now how selfish I truly am, and that I ruined your life. If it weren’t for me, you would still be living peacefully and quietly near Zhalemnye forest. Instead, I made you marry me, I almost got you killed, gave you a life of war and secrets, and now I almost got you killed again._ _ _

___Mark wrote that you must have forgiven me, or you wouldn’t ask for immunity for my team but…. Unless I hear it from you, I will not, no, I cannot allow myself to believe it. I have been so very selfish that I completely ignored how I had ruined your life._ _ _

___I am so sorry._ _ _

___I am so sorry, this is so disjointed a letter, but it is late and I am tired._ _ _

___You see, Grisha, yesterday I realised that in order to have peace, we need more than self-knowledge, or to abandon desire. We need to abandon love itself, for that is the most selfish of desires. And the most deceitful too, for when we love, we think we act for the good of the beloved, when in reality, we are fulfilling our most secret and selfish desire to keep the beloved close to us. Worse still, love creates bonds in us that keep us in the world of strife and struggle._ _ _

___It makes sense when you think about it. So, last night, I realised that love was selfishness and this morning I realised the extent of my selfishness when it comes to you. My love for you made me ruin your life. And I am still so very selfish, Grisha. I love you and I want you to live for me (if HM allows it)._ _ _

___But I also need to know that you forgive me._ _ _

___Ah, I really am a most horrible and selfish person. We have been here for a week, and I still haven’t been home, even though you asked me to look after our garden. Your new roses will be past their bloom by the time I go there. And, what is worse…_ _ _

___Grishka Grishuka? You were right all along; dogs are not for me. I have been so neglectful and wanting them has only been a selfish desire. Dogs – especially dogs like the ones I want – are not for me. They want a lot of time and a lot of attention, and I don’t have that. I must admit that I always wanted big dogs because I grew up with them, so this was yet another selfish desire of mine. And you, instead of telling me to grow up and accept that I was no longer able to have big dogs, you just agreed to not having cats._ _ _

___Grishka, I used to think I was the luckiest person in the world that you chose me, but now I see that I don’t deserve you. You truly are too good for me. You knew we could have cats, because they are self-reliant and, even though they can be playful and affectionate, they don’t need their owners as much as dogs do. Yet, you agreed with me._ _ _

___I have been so very selfish FOR YEARS. Forgive me._ _ _

___When this is over, and I place myself in His Majesty’s mercy for my crimes, I will also give him the dogs. I don’t deserve them either since I can’t take care of them. But this time, I will not expect you to renounce your cats because of me. I will ask Mark to take care of them until you are back._ _ _

___They are such cute kittens, Grisha. You will love them._ _ _

___I so wish you were here. I so wish I hadn’t destroyed your life with my selfishness. I so wish I could stop being selfish when it comes to you, because I still…_ _ _

___Grishka Grishuka? These days I realised that, had that unthinkable happened to you, I would not be able to lead the men against N. He did give us fourteen wonderful years together, and you made my life worth living. And life without you, is not a life worth living. I am that selfish that I expect you to do what I can’t._ _ _

___Forgive me._ _ _

___If you forgive me, I will try to be better for you._ _ _

___I will give Sokolov instructions to take you out of Bosilke, if you wish it. I will not order him to do this against your will._ _ _

___Grishka Grishuka? I may write more tomorrow or in the next days, but I may not. The situation here is ongoing, and everything else, it’s just three words: I love you._ _ _

___I love you so much._ _ _

___Even if you don’t forgive me, I will still be now and always and forever,_ _ _

___Your Siuta_ _ _

__He folded it, sealed it, and left it on the desk with a note to be sent to Grisha Urgent Urgent._ _

__Then he went into the closet. He really wanted to hide from the world again._ _


	71. Chapter 71

29th 

Mark tried not to laugh, but it was impossible. “I really prefer tying others to being tied up. How about releasing me now?”

Ekaterina glanced at Filon and Artyom. “Should we?”

Filon shook his head, and Artyom did the same. 

She nodded. “Then, we will not.” She leaned over him and started kissing his chest, making him shiver. “Mark? Can we all go to the Shrine with you?”

“All, as in….”

“All the Ladies. We miss being with our Empress. He is lovely.”

“He prefers being called Consort of Imperial Rank,” Filon and Artyom said together as they shifted on the bed, Artyom settling between his spread legs, and Filon next to him. 

“I am not sure if this will be wise.” With assassins at Ivanhof and possibly the Capital, he would rather have as small a procession as possible.

“I think it will be.” She smiled at him. “We have already signed that document asking Nikolaj to apologize publicly. Why can’t we be seen supporting Elik? Mark,” she looked at him seriously, “this whole thing is a mess. Even if everyone goes home today…”

Filon and Artyom looked at her. “Must we talk about this?”

How he longed to pet their hair. They were such good, loyal men. “We can’t hide our heads in the sand,” he told them. 

“He didn’t punish anyone at Nisdruna,” Filon said.

“As far as we know.”

Artyom shook his head. “If he were to punish someone, he would have done it already. Instead, he was in that hospital room for days, talking to the Major. I don’t think he will do anything to anyone here either.”

“The men there said they were sick. They did not abandon their posts and tried to march against him.”

“And the Captain stopped them.”

“After promising to lead them.”

“He was stalling. Half of the army knew it then, and everyone knew it afterwards.”

“I think everyone wanted to be stalled,” Filon concluded. “Who in their right minds would want to march against their brothers-in-arms led by an emperor who’s never lost a battle?”

“Maxim wrote us this crazy note, that everyone would prefer a naked protest, but that’s Maxim, you know?” Artyom laughed. 

Mark was impressed.

“Why are you looking at us like that?” Filon grinned before placing a kiss on the head of his cock.

“We are Intelligence too, you know,” Artyom laughed as he slithered further up, and his breath caressed his balls, making him tremble. 

“Indeed, you are.” Mark looked at Ekaterina. “You and all the Ladies can come to the Shrine. And so will all the courtiers. If we are all united, he will…” He smiled. 

Ah, how he wanted to believe in Filon and Artyom, but they didn’t know Nikolaj. If he were in a good mood, he might even laugh about his men trying to start a mutiny. In a bad mood, though… 

Ekaterina started kissing his shoulders. “You’re getting tense again,” she whispered.

“And I don’t like it when you are tense,” Filon said.

Artyom nodded. “Last night, you also looked just as tense for a moment.”

They smiled at him. “We are glad you decided to follow us. We still like you, after all,” Filon said, as Artyom started licking his balls.

“I am so glad you do,” he sighed happily. 

After the offerings at the Shrine of Ancestral Honour, he would lead them all to his own family’s shrine. Perhaps his own Honoured Ancestors would help him figure out how to persuade Nikolaj not to punish the ring leaders of this mutiny that was being postponed all the time. 

&*&*

Elik stared at the ceiling of the guestroom he was in. He hadn’t noticed it the night before, but with the light coming in from the windows, he could see it had a coat of arms in the middle and several garlands around it. Hm. Whoever had decided on that had more taste than whoever had decided on those heavy decorated ceilings of Ivanhof. 

He hadn’t expected that he would sleep so well either. Perhaps screaming at his wretched husband had been good for him. 

“Your Majesty?” Sila asked as he knocked on the door.

“Enter.” For a moment, he missed Oleg. “Good morning, Sila, Cornei.”

“Good morning, Sire.”

He sat up. “What is that?” he asked, looking at the bundle in Sila’s arms. 

“Your new robes and your cuirass,” Sila grinned. 

“It has been checked against various firearms and will withstand firing from fifty or a hundred meters.”

“Maxim tried it on to see if it will fit you, and it has passed his test.”

“He said it was very heavy, though.”

Oh! For Maxim to say that, it must have been heavier than the diamond dress. “I thought I was getting a chainmail shirt.”

“No, it was judged ineffective against firearms.”

“Ah.” His Head of Security was truly paranoid. “And… how is Vasya?”

Sila put the bundle down on a chair and made a disgruntled noise. Cornei looked just as exasperated. 

“What? You can speak freely.”

“This morning, we went in the Major’s office to wake him up and….” Sila shook his head.

“The office seemed empty, but there was one single letter for the Major on the desk, with a note.”

“Which was strange and a little disconcerting, because the Captain hadn’t written to him all these days, or even to anyone else at His Majesty’s camp, while we’ve all written to our friends there.”

“So, we thought of looking in the closet,” Cornei continued.

“And he was not there either.”

“The closet?” What on earth was Vasya doing there? 

They both nodded, looking worried. “So, as we were starting to panic, he showed up behind us.”

“And made us scream,” Sila huffed. “He needs to stop being so sneaky,” he muttered. 

Elik nodded. “He is very sneaky, I agree.”

“I don’t even know how, but he got his own uniform back from our Barracks.”

“And he’d woken up early in order to wash.”

“And shave!”

“I’m glad he did,” Elik said. “I don’t think he looks good with a beard.”

Cornei laughed. “He looked different, that is certain.”

Sila shrugged. 

“And did you have any letters for him? Or me?”

“Just for the Captain. I’m sorry, Sire.”

Elik sighed. “I should start getting ready, then. When is Lieutenant Ilin back? We would like to hear from his own lips how he defeated that dastardly fiend!”

&*&*

To his surprise, none of the Majors who were in the breakfast room of the guesthouse thought anything of his robes, that Mark had called ‘old-fashioned’. Instead, they all wanted to see his cuirass and he obliged them. 

“Isn’t it heavy?” Major Ross asked him as he circled him. 

“Not really. We still wear full-body armour for ceremonies and rituals at Jedlowa, so we are used to practicing with them. This weighs nothing compared to that.”

“Really?” Major Lanskoy said admiringly. “It looks heavy.”

“Do you want to try it?” With Sila’s help, he took it off and helped the Major wear it. 

“Fuck, it’s heavy,” he grinned. “You can keep it.”

“I will,” he said. As if he had a choice. 

“How is it fighting with the full body-armour?” Major Glinof asked him as he wore it again and sat down to have breakfast, some type of porridge with fruits and honey unlike what they had either at home, or Ivanhof.

“Yes, and is it easy to move?”

“During the reign of Viktor, His Majesty’s Most Esteemed and Wise Grandfather, the officers would wear them for parades, but His Majesty’s Most Noble Father, Ivan V, stopped that custom.”

“Which is a shame. I think they look nice.”

Suddenly they stopped commenting and all looked at him. “Well, Sire?” Major Borisjuk asked him. “How is it fighting with one?”

“And how long does it take to wear it?”

“Are they easy to maintain?”

“And do they ever start creaking?”

“Lanskoy, what a stupid question was that?” 

Elik smiled. “One question at the time, Gentlemen, and I will answer all of them.”

Ah, breakfast with the Majors was definitely more fun than with the courtiers! And then, he’d go collect Vasya and find out why he’d been in a closet. And tell him of his Most Wretched Husband! Who still hadn’t written to him. 

&*&*

Elik waited until they were alone in Grisha’s office. He looked at Vasya miserably. “Still no letter,” he told him.

Vasya nodded. “Do you want to scream again?”

“And try hitting you?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for last night.”

“You were upset, that’s understandable.”

Elik looked down, ashamed. Upset didn’t begin to cover what he’d been when he’d realized that even though Nikolaj had approved Grisha’s plan and had even agreed to give Vasya and his team immunity for their planned regicide, he still hadn’t written to him. What was he to his husband? He felt his anger and his despair fight inside him. “Hug, please?”

Vasya opened his arms and Elik let himself relax there. The night before, Vasya’s arms had been a prison that he couldn’t escape while he screamed and shouted at his husband. That morning, they were his haven. 

“I wish Nikolaj were like you."

“No, you don’t.” He smiled at him. “Nikolaj is not that bad. And he is more suitable for you than you think.”

Elik looked at him. Vasya looked even more tired than the day before, with even darker circles under his eyes. “He’s been horrible to me and to you, and I wish you would stop making excuses for him.”

“I am not. He is not perfect, but he is not that bad, and I do owe him. I want to see the good in him.”

Elik glared at him. 

“Elik,” Vasya told him tiredly. “If you want to be angry and upset, it is your right. His behaviour warrants it. As for myself, I have no time for that. We can agree to disagree, and….” Even his smile was tired. “You can continue screaming at him, and trying to hit me.”

“Are you well? You were mad at him yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.”

“I am well, but… don’t you see? He would never have told me to go to his camp if he thought that Grisha was dying. Being mad at him when I owe him so much is… it Is not helpful.”

“You are weird,” Elik muttered.

“I know. Everyone knows,” Vasya smiled. “Now, the Guards all have strict instructions to make sure you are covered at all times. I wish we had time to make a really nice helmet for you.”

“Oh, no, I am glad you haven’t. This cuirass is quite heavy already,” he lied. He would not hide in front of his people!

Vasya smiled a little. “Then, it will do its work.”

“Wait, does that mean that you are not coming to the Shrine with me?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?” Elik huffed, annoyed. Did he want to hide in the closet again? No, he wouldn’t let him. “You must come. Our Honoured Ancestors have accepted you. If you don’t come to pray to them with me, they will be offended.” He grabbed Vasya’s hands. “You are coming with me.”

“Sire,” Vasya told him full of regret. “I can’t. I have work to do.” He glanced at the papers on Grisha’s office. 

“You will, or Our Honoured Ancestors will be angry at your behaviour. If not them, then my ancestral spirits will, and believe me,” Elik shivered, “you don’t want to make them mad.” He tried to pull him out of the office. 

“Alright,” Vasya sighed, with an expression as if he were forced into prison rather than a short trip to the Capital. “Elik?” he suddenly smiled. “You are very assertive, you know.”

“Yes,” he smiled. He could be, when it was important that he was. 

“Good. I’m glad. You should keep on being assertive when you must. And I think that…”

“What?”

“Nothing. That is not the issue right now.” He smiled. “Let’s go.”

“Good.” He walked out and smiled at the Guards and Grisha’s men and the Majors. “He agreed.”

“Hurrah.”

“Why are you all acting like that?”

Sila glared at Vasya. “One word. Closet.”

“Closet?” Major Lanskoy asked. 

“Yes, Sir, we are certain that he was sleeping in the closet,” Sila said, looking worried. “Again.”

“It’s a great place for sleeping. It is dark and quiet in there,” Vasya protested.

As they all stared at him, Major Lanskoy started laughing. After frowning for a second, Major Smith joined him, after making a strange sound that Lanskoy repeated. 

Vasya glared at them. “We are going to the Capital, right?” he said as he started walking towards the staircase. 

Major Lanskoy made a hissing sound that made Major Smith laugh even harder, and several of the other Majors hurried into Grisha’s office. Elik counted eight of them running in before giving up. A moment later he heard them laugh just as loudly as Majors Lanskoy and Smith.

Elik stared at the other Majors who looked just as bemused as he was. “They’re really close,” Major Ross told him. 

“Yes, comes with being in the same class,” Major Dobrov said. “Or serving together.”

“They have their own little jokes,” Major Ivin said with a smile. 

“Sire,” Vasya said from the top of the staircase, “We cannot leave without you.”

Elik nodded and hurried. “What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

Major Lanskoy hissed again.

Vasya shook his head. “Idiot,” he grinned. “You have yet to grow up, Kirill,” he shouted as he started walking down the stairs. 

Hissing, strange sounds, sleeping in closed and dark spaces. Who did these things? Or rather… “They’re saying you’re like a cat,” Elik grinned.

“I am not. I like dogs.”

“You can like an animal, but be like another. Dogs are great, but cats are good too.”

Vasya huffed. “Do you prefer cats or dogs?” he asked him, clearly not wanting to discuss this further.

“Neither, I love birds!” How he used to enjoy their singing back home, trying to find their nests in the garden, or spotting them on the trees, or watching the ducklings swim after their mother in the river. “But I can’t bear to see them captive, now even more so than before, so I never kept any. Oleg is wonderful, though! And he’s been such a good companion to your dogs. Are they really called Dogs One, Two, Three, and Four?”

Vasya nodded. “You may name them as you’d like, Sire.”

“I thought you’ll name them with Grisha.”

“Oh, look, they brought your carriage. Do you mind if I ride together with the Guards?”

Elik frowned. “Yes, no, I mean no. You may ride with the Guards.” Vasya was being truly weird. How he hoped that Grisha would be well enough to travel soon. Vasya really must have been so worried about him that he wouldn’t rest until they were together!

Ah, how he wished his own husband was a little bit like Vasya or Grisha. Just a little bit like them, and he’d be happy. Sighing, he got into his carriage. 

&*&*

_Dear Siuta,_

_How are you?_

_We are am slowly moving towards HM’s camp. I think your wolf cubs were right; it would have been better if I had waited a few more days. But, oh, well, now we’ve started, so now we will go up._

_The situation is truly interesting. This area of Oerestand is truly loyal to Queen Adelaide. At the town where we stopped overnight, we paid in crowns with HM’s portrait, and got back coins with Queen Adelaide’s. And this morning, at the bakery? HM’s Guards were given free cookies, only because they were HM’s Guards._

_They also shared them with me and they were delicious. Lemon and cardamon! I loved them and took the recipe._

_Even better, I learned a new soup recipe yesterday where we stayed for dinner: it had peas, potatoes, and onions in a broth thickened with milk, flour, and butter. It really was delicious. I got that recipe too!_

_Traveling is fun._

_I am thinking – since HM seems to hold us in such high esteem, maybe we could ask him to post us somewhere as diplomats? You could be an ambassador, or a military attaché and I would be… fuck if I knew what I would be; right now, I just want to be with you and nothing else._

_Siuta, I know that by you know you know everything that happened, and I hope that you also know I’m getting better and stronger every day. Can you write to me when you get this? You must think this a strange request from me – I was against you writing to me when you were traveling, after all, since I could learn your news from your reports, but… I find myself missing you so much._

_Maybe because it was strange to be ill without you. Or maybe because the wolf cubs told me you were hurt. Or maybe because I wanted to be with you so much for our wedding anniversary, but with HM dragging me to the camp, I doubt I’ll be home in time for that._

_We already missed one anniversary this year, and now we’ll miss another._

_And we won’t be able to host our autumn Feast either. Will you apologize to everyone for us and let them know so they can make other plans? You know how Lanskoy plans his whole week around that! Glinof had promised to bring the twins this year since they can eat proper food now, not whatever mush they feed babies after weaning…. Have you seen them yet? They are so cute!_

_I am trying to think what else needs to be done. Sorry, Siuta, I am making you our secretary!_

_I love you and I miss you and I want you so much!_

_Your Grisha_

He smiled at everyone as he sealed the letter. “So,” he said, handing it to Yulian for sending it Urgent Urgent, “Shall you tell us what happened on your last day at Krzydzov?”

Evgeni and Carel grinned. “I’ll start,” Evgeni said. 

&*&*

Elik waved at the people, grinning when he saw the courtiers all waiting for him. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to surprise them with his new clothes! He did find the Quhjani robes a lot more comfortable than the Western-style waistcoats and coats. 

The carriage came to a slow halt in front of the Shrine, and Elik waited until Sila opened the door for him. Grinning, he stepped down, enjoying the look of surprise at everyone’s face. He gestured for them to rise and walked past them up the stairs of the Shrine. “Do you like my new robes?” he laughed. 

“Your Majesty,” lady Ekaterina smiled. “They are wonderful.”

“They really suit you,” said Duchess Theissen, looking surprised but approving. 

“Thank you.”

He walked quickly up, where Mark and the other Council members were waiting for him. 

“You should go inside now,” Vasya told him quietly from behind him.

“Yes, I will,” he said, “but I always wave to the people here,” he said as he turned around and making the Guards part a little so he would wave. He could see what what relief after all these days of unrest everyone looked at him and shouted his name. 

“Not today, Sire,” Vasya insisted. 

“Brother,” he said, turning to face him, annoyed that Vasya still didn’t get it. He felt something hit him on the side of the chest and he fell forward, and into Vasya. “Oh. I’ve been hit.” 

“Alive, I want him alive,” Mark shouted, while Vasya and Sila grabbed him and carried him into the shrine. Mark’s voice mingled with the screams of others but was not as loud suddenly. 

“How thick are the Shrine walls?” he wondered out loud. 

Sila stared at him as he started removing his robes. “Sire?” he whispered.

“I think I’m fine.”

Sila nodded. “Look, Sir,” he said, looking at Vasya, who was still behind him, and lightly touching the cuirass. “Oh. It’s hot.”

Because of the position where the bullet had hit him, he could see the area of impact, and the bullet itself, a dark deformed mass against the shiny breastplate. “Can you take it off so I can see it better?”  
Vasya said something quickly that made no sense but sounded like a curse. “No,” he said a moment later. 

“But…”

“Sire, please. I am trying to think,” Vasya told him.

He went quiet, but pointed at the impact point. “Sila,” he mouthed, “can you….?”

Sila shook his head.

Mark walked inside. “No one is allowed here, and the doctor is on his way. How are things?”

“I’m fine,” Elik said. He tried to stand up, but his legs refused to move.

“Sire?”

“I…” He looked at Mark. “Mark, how lucky was I? If I didn’t wear my cuirass, I’d be dead now.”

Mark fell down next to him. “Fuck.”

Vasya just made a little noise, clearly agreeing and too shocked to complain about language. 

Elik started shivering. A moment later, Vasya wrapped him in his robes. “I… There’s no safe place for me, is there?” he gasped. He didn’t want to die. He was ready, but he didn’t. It was one thing to die in battle, and another to feel trapped and hunted like an animal. 

Vasya hugged him, while Mark looked at him miserably.

“I have an idea,” Vasya said, “but you will not like it.”

“What is it?” Mark asked.

“We say His Majesty was severely wounded today. No one knows about the cuirass except for us, the Ministers, the Guards, and the Majors at the Guesthouse, who will never, ever betray His Majesty.”

Nor Vasya, Elik thought. 

The Shrine attendants around them all nodded. “We will be forever silent. This we vow.”

“And?”

“And, His Majesty will be unwell until Francis is dead. I don’t think the cousins will make a move while their … you know. They will wait, especially if His Majesty is constantly under guard.”

Mark took a deep breath. “Do you know the chaos that will follow such a statement?” 

“Chaos or public grief?”

“Wait, wait,” Elik said, “what do you mean I’ll be unwell? I will be locked in Ivanhof again?”

“It’s just an idea,” Mark said, glaring at Vasya.

“What’s…” He started and then stopped. 

“Yes?” Mark and Vasya asked him at the same time.

“I’m trapped either way,” he said quietly. “If I become unwell, at least I will not be hunted for a while. And if I get bored of being trapped, I can always get better,” he continued, trying to smile a little. “Mark, do you think it will make things worse in the Capital if we say that I got wounded? And what about the army?”

Mark and Vasya shared a look. 

“I think the men will be devastated.”

“And the people of the Capital too.”

“And if I walk out?”

“The next cousin will aim for your head,” Vasya told him quietly. 

He shuddered. “I’d rather be unwell than dead.”

“And everyone, I mean it, everyone in the police forces and security teams will abandon everything and focus on finding Francis’ assassins.”

Elik nodded as he heard a soft noise. What was that? 

“What are you doing?” Mark suddenly screamed.

“What does it look like? We need blood stains.”

“You don’t need to cut your arm, you idiot.”

“Too late.” He turned around to see Vasya bleeding on the floor, Sila looking horrified next to him. 

“Vasya, you are not just weird, you are crazy, you know that?”

“Yes,” Vasya chuckled. 

“I agree with Mark,” he said, noticing how Mark was growing paler and paler while Vasya pressed his arm against the hole in his robe. 

“Here,” Vasya said, giving him a medium-sized flask. “You may have a drink. And then pass it on to Mark. He needs one.”

He took a swig and coughed as the liquid burned his throat. “How can you drink this thing?”

“It’s good.”

Elik gave it to Mark, who drank it with a frown. “Fuck, cousin, do you distil your own wine of life? This is not a drink, this is…”

“Medicinal,” Vasya laughed. 

“Do you?” Elik asked him. 

“What?”

“Distil your own wine of life?”

“Of course. My family could not deprive me of three things when he who was my father disinherited me,” he told them proudly as he wrapped his wound with a strip from his shirt. “Life, the wedding ring I gave to Grisha, and knowledge. This was made with my Grandfather’s own secret recipe.”

Elik laughed. “This is a very strong drink, Brother.” He took the flask from Mark, and took a tiny sip. “Very strong.”

“Thanks. Sila, you look curious. Here.”

Sila shook his head. “No, thank you, Sir.”

“Should we wait for the doctor, then, or take His Majesty to Ivanhof?”

“Ivanhof,” Mark said. “I can trust our own doctors to keep a secret, but not whoever is coming.”

“Alright.” Vasya started dressing him again. “Can you close your eyes and look unwell now, Sire? Sila and I will carry you to your carriage.”

Elik nodded. “Maybe I should have drunk more of your medicinal wine. That could have knocked me out.”

“One, two, three, Sila? And, Sire, please, no more joking until we are in your carriage.”

Elik closed his eyes. He hated being unwell, but he hated the idea of being dead even more. Ah, when he saw his husband again, he’d teach him a lesson. He didn’t know what, but he would!

He felt Sila grab his legs and lift him up, while Vasya lifted him by the arms, with Mark supporting him, and heard the Shrine attendants open the doors. The muffled screaming and crying he could hear while they decided stopped suddenly. 

Even though he couldn’t see anything, he could feel everyone watching him being carried down to the steps. He was supposed to be unconscious. Did unconscious men moan in agony? He was certain that if he were conscious and wounded, he’d in such pain at that moment, even though Vasya and Sila were really gentle. 

“We are taking His Majesty at Ivanhof,” Mark shouted in a trembling voice. 

Really, they were all such actors! 

“Death to the traitors who hurt our Lord.”

“Death.”

“Death.”

Elik shivered. The crowd around the Shrine sounded as frightening as the ten thousand men at the Barracks. How glad he was they were on his side.

“Justice will be served,” Mark told them loudly. 

He heard the door to his carriage open and then they were going up instead of down. They jarred him again, but moments later, he was being laid out on one of the seats. 

“Stay down,” Vasya reminded him unnecessarily. 

“I know,” he whispered. “They are crying and shouting at the same time.”

“Of course. They love you, Sire,” Sila told him.

“And I love them. Please, promise me that you will find who did this so I can be well soon.”

“We will do our best,” Mark said. “There should be a committee meeting in an hour to co-ordinate which team will do what, if everyone is on the case.” He started writing a few notes.

Vasya didn’t reply for a few moments. “Yes.”

Once done, Mark knocked on the door of the carriage. Elik closed his eyes. “Young man, send these where they must go.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’s Kolya, Mark, not ‘young man’,” Elik smiled the moment he heard the door close again. 

“It’s not my job to know who they are,” Mark grinned. 

Elik sighed as the carriage started hurrying out of the Capital, and he could hear all that noise. “How did it all come to this?”

“The team should be at Ystrina tomorrow, and from there, it’s only a few days to Svjetlski Castle and Krzydzov. With luck, you should be able to get well by the end of the month.”

Elik didn’t want to know what might happen if Luck was not with them. “A whole month,” Elik sighed mournfully. “Where am I to be confined? Ivanhof? I don’t want to. That place is miserable.”

“Where, then?”

“The retreat His Majesty made for us. Even though it has no books. Can you ask them to move the books from my rooms there, and also to bring copies of the latest romances published?” 

They looked at him strangely.

“I’ll be severely wounded and someone will be reading them out loud to me,” he grinned. 

“Yes, of course,” Mark smiled. “Any other requests?”

“I would like Oleg to be with me. And do you know if there is a secret corridor linking the kitchen with the bedroom? I like cooking when I am unhappy, and if I am going to be unwell for a month, I will be very unhappy.”

“We will try to keep you busy enough to keep you happy, Sire.”

“Excuse me?” 

“The Ministers know about your cuirass and will learn the truth of this morning’s events. The Council can continue working with you.”

He smiled. “Oh, that is something.” He sighed as he looked at the sky. “Really, how?”

Mark looked at Vasya strangely.

“Sila, you still look curious about my wine of life. Do you want to try it?” 

This time, Sila nodded with a smile. 

“It is strong,” Elik warned him. 

Grinning, Sila took the flask from the captain, opened it, took a swig and spat it out as he coughed. “Fuck.”

“Told you.”

“Ah, fuck,” Sila muttered. 

Elik nodded. Fuck, indeed. 

&*&*

“I am most unhappy,” he told Sila once doctor van den Berg and everyone else had left his bedroom.

“Sire,” Sila smiled at him. 

“I am, it is true,” he complained. “Vasya is working, Mark is briefing the Council, Lady Ekaterina is pacifying the Ladies and the Gentlemen of the court, and what am I doing?”

“Being severely wounded.”

“Indeed.” He sat up a little. “I should write to His Majesty, shouldn’t I?”

“The Chancellor will do that.”

“Yes, but…” He sighed. “I still don’t know what to write to him, Sila. Kolya? Do you have any idea?”

“Maybe you can start by saying that you are well?”

“And,” Sila stood up, “maybe I can find a romance or two? And some decks of cards?”

Kolya and he nodded gratefully.

“And, please, tell the other Guards that I will start receiving them. Only… maybe they should come two at the time? And we can all meet at the Kitchens after dark?”

“That is an excellent idea,” Kolya smiled. 

“Then, so we shall! Gentlemen, think of what we should make tonight!” He picked up a piece of paper. 

_Ivanhof, 29th of Fire Month,_

_Dear Husband of mine,_

_Despite what you might hear, I am well. For now._

He put his quill down. “I really don’t want to write to him.” 

_your loving husband,_

_Your Elik_

Kolya smiled sympathetically. “When Sila is back, I will send this Urgent Urgent.”

“One of you really intends to be with me at all times?”

Kolya nodded. “That is our order.” 

He sighed as he stood up. “Even in the privy?”

“Well, not there, but let me double-check there is no one there first.”

Paranoid! He liked them!

&*&*

_My Beloved, My One and Only, My Grishka Grishuka,_

_The events of the last days have not left me with a lot of time, so I was unable to write to our friends. I have asked Sergei to write to them so as not to force this duty upon you._

_I have already written you most of my latest thoughts on peace and love and selfishness, but since this morning, I have also been thinking: could love be mutual selfishness? How I wish you were so I could ask you, and discuss this with you._

_Forgive me this too, for I do not regret my actions these last days. You will have your justice, my love._

_Please, find enclosed a document transferring all my rights to our property to you alone, as well as whatever was bestowed upon me by Their Majesties. Since this is effective from this noon, your rights and property are guaranteed, even if His Majesty executes me now. I’ve already taken everything from you once; this time, I know better than to do this again._

_I miss you so much, and I love you so much, and if you forgive me, we will meet again. I will know if you do._

_Be well for me, my One,_

_Your Siuta_

He closed the locket with Siuta’s portrait and wore it again. Just as he was sealing the letter, someone knocked on the door. “Enter.”

“Sir?”

“Ah, Sergei. How did it go… No, I don’t need to know anymore,” he smiled. “I’m finished with that. Give these to Grisha, please,” he said, giving him the letter and his recipe book. “And this is for you,” he said, giving him a small book. 

“What is it?”

“My secret recipes for interrogation cakes and cookies, as well as for the Very Special pre-Solstice Night Punch, and the even more secret recipe for the Cure for After the Very Special Punch,” he grinned. 

Sergei suddenly hugged him. “Sir,” he whispered miserably.

“No. I behaved treacherously and I deserve this.” He took a deep breath. He deserved this, but how he wished he could see Grisha one more time. In the flesh. “I need to say good bye to every one now. Are they all at the Hall?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Great. After that, we will have tea, and I will show you how everything is organized and what is in the folders.” He smiled. “You can figure it out yourselves, but this will be quicker. Oh, and Sergei? Please, know that the Guards all passed their review already. If you are not their interim captain, please, notify my successor of the fact. I did not have time to write it in their files yet.”

&*&*

Maxim and Nikita came to visit him as they were starting their dinner. 

Elik smiled at them. “Mark, my Lady, Filon, Artyom, would you mind terribly if Maxim and Nikita joined us?”

Filon and Artyom shook their heads, grinning. 

Mark smiled. “Please, it would be an honour. So, what news from the outside world?” he asked them as they took a seat. 

“The Captain is still at the Barracks,” Maxim said.

Still? He hadn’t even gone to the meeting with the other Heads of Security, letting his Quartermasters handle everything there. 

“After he gave the news to the men and led them to offers of incense to Luck at the Main Altar of the Barracks, he returned to his office to work,” Nikita continued.

“The men are still offering incense. I think they will continue until tomorrow morning.”

“And then, they will disperse, and go to their Barracks and stations.”

Mark let out a great huff. “Finally.”

Maxim and Nikita nodded. 

“I’m also glad this mutiny that almost started never did,” he said. “And…”

“Yes?”

“I do envy Grisha a little, and would like to have a husband as loyal as Vasya,” he sighed.

Maxim nodded. “I would like that too. Only…” he grinned. 

“What?”

“Well… I would like to be a bit less weird about it.”

Mark and Lady Ekaterina frowned. “I’m the only one allowed to call my cousin ‘weird’, young man.”

“With all due respect, Sir, you are not that old to call me ‘young man’,” Maxim smiled. “I just fucked a Major who was older than you, and he didn’t call me ‘young man’.”

Lady Ekaterina raised her fan and laughed behind it.

“Maxim,” Nikita nudged him, “shush.”

“Why?” he asked curiously.

Elik looked at him. “I would like to know too,” he said. “What do you mean by ‘less weird’?”

“Well, the Captain and the Major are so loyal to each other, they haven’t taken other lovers ever. That is not the Bosilik way. That is weird.”

Lady Ekaterina nodded. “I did tell you, Sire, when we are at war, we all try our best to make sure there will be enough Bosilik to continue our people.”

Nikita smiled, glancing at Maxim. “Even men who only like men use that as an excuse to take more lovers.”

“Yes,” Maxim said proudly. 

“You really don’t believe in marital fidelity? At all?”

“We are loyal to each other,” Mark said, touching Lady Ekaterina’s hand. “But in a Bosilik way.” He placed his hand over Artyom’s and Lady Ekaterina over Filon’s. “When we take lovers, we let each other know.”

“Yes,” Lady Ekaterina agreed. “If I am to sleep with someone just for fun, then why tell Mark? It doesn’t matter, the way that scratching an itch doesn’t matter. But if I am serious about someone, then I always tell him. And Mark does the same.” She glanced at Filon and Artyom. “We are loyal to each other.”

“And I want someone who will be as loyal to me as the Captain, but will also understand that I was not made to be with one man only,” Maxim said, grinning. 

“I will be loyal to my wife, when I marry,” Nikita said, “but I won’t mind if she does take lovers when we are at war, and I hope she will not mind when I do the same. That is how we are.”

“I see.” Loyalty the Bosilik way was nothing like loyalty he had been brought up to expect. Even though Lady Ekaterina had told him about it, he had never believed that everyone believed in that. He’d thought it was a court thing. “But you still admire Vasya and Grisha’s loyalty to each other.”

“Oh, yes,” they all sighed, smiling dreamily. 

“We love romances,” Filon said, and Lady Ekaterina nodded. 

“Songs, poems, and books about love are our favourites,” Artyom added. 

“And the Captain and the Major, their life is a romance,” Nikita smiled. 

“Now, after knowing about their early years, even more so,” Maxim told them emphatically. 

“Think about it, two lovers overcoming all obstacles to live happily together,” Lady Ekaterina sighed deeply. 

“Yes,” the others sighed as well. 

“It’s beautiful,” Maxim said, “but also, not for the rest of us.”

“No, the same way you wouldn’t want to face such hardships as being disinherited and carrying your sick husband around for days,” Filon said. 

“But when you read about it, you think that love is so wonderful to give you such strength,” Artyom smiled. 

“It is inspiring,” Nikita said with a nod. “But I wouldn’t want to live it.”

“Me neither,” Lady Ekaterina said seriously. “And to come unchaste to my marriage bed. Oh, the horror of it. I don’t know how Vasya didn’t care.”

“Yes, his family is very strict about that,” Mark continued. “Most noble families… they only care about the chastity of women, but not his.”

“Vasya did mention that as another form of injustice in the empire. That society treats men and women as differently as slaves and free and Bosilik and non-Bosilik.”

“And he is right,” Maxim shouted. “I don’t care if people think he’s weird for saying it, but I agree with him! Everyone should be equal, and men and women should be equal too and fuck freely in the mother land.”

“Really, is there such a song?” Nikita asked.

“There should be,” Elik replied, smiling.

“Maybe we should all write it, since we’re here,” Mark suggested. 

“Yes, let’s,” Elik smiled. Anything to pass the time without thinking about Everything!

&*&*

They were all playing cards after dinner, when Quartermaster Sokolov came in, looking utterly miserable. 

“What bad news do you bring us?” Mark asked immediately. 

The man shook his head and let Vasya in.

“What happened?”

“They found the shooter who tried to assassinate His Majesty. Dead, unfortunately, but both the informant cousin and the other one recognized him. Neimar is now on his way to arrest Cousin B., the man giving them orders here.”

“That’s great news,” Elik said excitedly. Perhaps he could recover from his severe wound earlier than he thought. 

“Yes, and depending on how the investigation of B. goes, then we may be able to have a few days of peace. Sokolov will let you know about it.”

“Great.” Vasya and Sokolov didn’t look very happy about it, though. “You still have bad news, though.”

Vasya shrugged. “Bad or good depends on how one perceives them. News is just news.”

Mark groaned. “Well, will you share them?”

With a nod, Vasya started taking off his sheathed sword from his sword belt. He gave it to Sokolov, then took off his dagger, his pistol, and a set of throwing knives, which he also handed to him. Once he had finished, he knelt in front of Elik and handed him a folder. “Your Majesty, I place myself at your mercy for my involvement in the army’s mutiny and attempt at insurrection. I behaved treacherously against you and His Majesty, and I deserve to be punished for my crimes. Here is my report.”

Mark and Lady Ekaterina gasped. 

“Also, will you take care of Dogs One to Four? Mark, I have sent the kittens at your rooms already.”

Elik stared at him, trying not to notice how Mark looked like he was about to faint, while Lady Ekaterina hugged him, and Filon and Artyom looked pleadingly at him. His first reaction was to grab Vasya and start shaking him for his idiocy, but he was not a child; he was His Majesty, and more importantly, he was Emperor-in-the-place-of-the-Emperor and he had to behave like it. 

Ah, fuck it. That wasn’t him. He knelt down and hugged Vasya. “Brother, if it weren’t for your involvement, I’d either be running from ten thousand angry armed men to take shelter with His Majesty, knowing that civil war was inevitable, or I would have been crowned sole Emperor, and the civil war would have started already. Why are you being like this?”

“Because I did promise to lead them against His Majesty, and I did say that I would kill him if I had to,” Vasya whispered. “That is treason.”

“Well, these days, he’s made me mad enough to want to kill him to,” he smiled as he stood up, pulling Vasya up with him. “I forgive you for your crimes, since I know you nothing wrong.” He suddenly grinned. “However, if you want to be punished, and you are at my mercy,” he grinned, “There, now you know not to do this again, or I will pinch you even harder,” he continued, pinching him on the left arm and making him wince. 

“I have a better punishment,” Mark suddenly grinned as he stood up, and Elik could not believe how happy he sounded. He slid his hands under Vasya’s coat, making him shriek with laughter. “Let’s all tickle Vashenka.”

“I’m not five,” he protested as he slid away from them,

“No, but we can still play let’s all catch Vashenka and tickle him,” Mark continued with the same joyous expression. 

“What an excellent idea,” Elik laughed. 

Vasya stared at them shocked for a moment, before turning around and running away towards the other rooms of the house. Mark and Lady Ekaterina grinned and went after him.

Elik smiled at Quartermaster Sokolov. “Leave his weapons here. He will need them soon. Do you want to join us in catching Vasya?”

“You should give him an official pardon, Sir,” he said seriously. “Or His Majesty there can punish him.”

Elik nodded, feeling ashamed that he wanted to put playing over duty. “You are right.” He heard them laughing from one of the whatever-you-want-to-do-with-them rooms. “I will do it as soon as the Chancellor is back. But surely they can enjoy themselves a little first?”

Filon and Artyom nodded seriously. “He’s been so very worried.”

“And the Captain really spent all day today preparing for his execution, finishing his reports, making sure we were all up-to-date with everything, settling his affairs,” Sokolov said, as he started tearing up. “He even gave me his recipe book for the Major,” he whispered, suddenly crying in earnest. 

Maxim nodded, also crying. “And he said goodbye to us all, but made us promise to be of good cheer, and not lead the army against anyone.”

Nikita hugged Maxim. “It was horrible,” he murmured, also crying. “We had to come here and pretend to be joyful while he…” he sniffled. 

He sat down, sighing. “He is very sneaky.” 

They all nodded, still looking miserable. 

And possibly he was a little foolish too. How could Vasya think that he, Elik of both Quhjan and Bosilke, would put rules above the life of his most loyal servant and his very own blood brother? Yes, technically, Vasya had taken sides, but it was all to prevent a rebellion. He would never punish him for that.

He suddenly realized that perhaps Vasya had not been foolish at all. His Majesty there would probably punish Vasya for treason, even though Vasya had not really done anything. Technically, he had taken sides. Well, he would write his official pardon, and if His Majesty there tried to do anything, Elik would have Vasya’s back. 

He went to his bedroom and came back with a stack of papers with the imperial emblem on top. “I will write that pardon now. Maxim, can you go to the men in the Barracks and let them know? And Nikita, maybe you can go to the Barracks of the Reds and let them know as well? I would prefer it if Vasya announced it officially tomorrow morning, but our men deserve to know now.”

Maxim and Nikita shared a look. “Can I go to the Reds’ Barracks?” Maxim asked him. “I am still looking for love, and that place is full of men ready to share theirs.”

Nikita playfully hit him, while Filon and Artyom chuckled. Even Sokolov smiled. 

“Of course, Maxim, you may go there.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

Nikita and Maxim grinned at him as they saluted him before leaving. 

Sokolov put down a little book over the weapons. “Please, give this to him too, Sire.”

“Of course, I will. Thank you.” He smiled. “Filon, Artyom, will you stay?”

“If you don’t mind, Sire, we would like that.”

“So, tell me something, you two and the Chancellor and his wife, how does that work?”

Filon and Artyom grinned. “Marvelously, Sire!”

He smiled. Seriously, no one would ever tell him? He focused on writing the decree officially pardoning Vasya and all the other Majors for their participation in the mutiny and the attempted insurrection. 

“Ah, Vasya,” he said as he saw them come back in the dining room, “Did you trust me so little that you thought that I, your most grateful and thankful Emperor-in-the-place-of-the-Emperor and brother, would punish you?”

Vasya looked at him tiredly. “Not you, but the law, Sire.”

“When the law is just, then I will uphold the law. But when it is unjust, I will change it.” He smiled. 

Mark grinned. “Indeed, Sire. Since you are working, may I also bring something else to your attention.” He ran out of the room, leaving them all looking perplexed. 

Ten minutes later, he returned, bringing a folder with him. “Sire, we have started working on this draft of a decree in order to pacify the troops, and show them that we have been listening to their concerns.”

Elik grinned. “I wanted to do the same, but… ah, this is wonderful. Come, sit, let’s make this into a decree.”

They had barely finished the draft they were all happy with, when Andrik came in. “A letter from His Majesty, Sire. And one for you, Sir,” he said, giving a letter to Mark. 

“Yes, thank you.” He took it and looked at them as he broke the seal. “Oh, for ….” He glanced at Vasya. “I will read this to you all and then you will tell me, should I or should I not call the men to arms and go punch him? _23rd of Fire Month,_

_My Husband!_

_Praise be to Luck for preserving your life (and to Lesnev)! We could not be more relieved to hear of it. We are SO GLAD!_

_We offered thanks to Luck for saving you!_

_Your loving Husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

_p.s. after a short stay at Nisdruna, we are back on the move. No resistance! We are overnighting at a village and moving onwards tomorrow morning. Wish us Luck, as we wish that for you!_.” He glared at the letter. “Can you believe it? What is this? What is this?” 

Elik started pacing around the room. “He must have known of the attempt on my life from the 20th and it took him three days to write something about it?” He screamed. “And this. This! Is this the letter of a husband who feels relief that his darling is safe?” His scream turned into a cry. “What does he even mean by this?” He sat down heavily, put his arms on the table and let his head drop there. “I don’t know anything anymore,” he sighed. “What did he write to you?” he asked Mark. 

Mark broke the seal of his letter. “Why are you still here?” he asked Andrik.

“I have no secrets from my Guards,” Elik said, frustrated. “What does he write?”

Mark read it out loud. “ _23rd of Fire Month,_

_Dear Mark,_

_I hope you are well. I am… I don’t know how I am._

_Mark? I messed up. You will never believe how much I messed up. When we see each other, I give you permission to punch me._

_I cannot write anything more on the matter right now. Just know that I made a huge mistake, and my only hope is that Luck will help me rectify matters._

_Your friend,_

_Nikolaj_.”

Elik raised his head and stared at Mark, annoyed and frustrated and miserable. “He can write to you that he messed up but not to me?”

“Perhaps he feels shame,” Vasya suggested. “And, he may find it easier to speak to his friend than to his spouse.”

“It shouldn’t be so,” Elik shouted miserably. Vasya told everything to Grisha. 

“You are right,” Lady Ekaterina told him soothingly, “but Mark and Nikolaj have known each other for all their lives. It may be easier for him to talk to Mark than to you.”

Elik looked up at Vasya pleadingly. “Hug?”

“You should hug Oleg, Sire. Not my married cousin.”

“Your cousin is my brother,” Elik insisted.

Vasya too ignored Mark’s protests, sat on the chair next to him and hugged him. “Do you want to scream?”

“No. I want to cry,” he said.

“You’re not a child,” Lady Ekaterina said a little harshly. “Sire,” she sighed, softening her tone, “Please, calm yourself. Nikolaj really must feel regret for what he did, but he can’t say it to you.”

He didn’t care about that. He cared that Nikolaj hadn’t written it to him. Nikolaj didn’t love him, did he? And why couldn’t he stop loving him? Why? Why couldn’t he get completely angry, but instead, he felt like Nikolaj was slowly killing him? 

He really wanted to be alone. He didn’t even feel like baking with the Guards anymore. 

“Andrik? Could you please leave us alone? As you can see, the Young Lord cannot have any more visitors. Not even his brothers, the Guards,” Vasya said softly. 

Elik moved away. “Actually, I think that maybe that would be nice. I don’t want to think about Nikolaj right now. Vasya, may I have a drink? A medicinal one?”

“No. You should not use drinking as a support for when you are miserable.”

“But you let me drink other times that I need one.”

“Right now, you don’t need one. If you start, you won’t stop, even when I tell you.”

Elik studied him. “You may be right,” he said. “Andrik? Can you tell the Guards to meet us at the kitchen, as planned? Mark, Ekaterina, how do you feel about pies?”

Mark looked at him stunned. 

“Pies would be wonderful, Sire,” Ekaterina told him. 

“It’s Elik after dinner, didn’t I tell you?”

&*&*

“Our Captain really is the Imperial Nanny,” Filon said quietly to Artyom as they checked that everything in the kitchen was clean after their brothers had left, the team that was guarding the Young Lord had gone to the ground floor, and Mark, Katya and the others had gone upstairs. 

“And he is good at it,” Artyom added. He glanced up the stairs leading to the rest of the retreat. “Do you think we should join them? They were all weird today, not just the Captain.”

“I think Mark really misses his cousin,” Filon said. 

“And his childhood. I mean, playing ‘let’s catch Vashenka and tickle him’ as if he were five?” Artyom snorted. “And the Captain and Katya played along!”

Filon chuckled. “As if we are all responsible adults. Ah, I can’t for Vanya to be back. Unless married life has changed him.”

“At least, I don’t think Maxim will ever change,” Artyom smiled. 

Filon nodded. “So, what do we do? Go up or go back to the Barracks?”

Artyom shrugged. “I’m no coward, but these four together, tonight? They frighten me.”

“Why?”

“They are not themselves.”

“Or perhaps they are,” the Captain said from the door, startling them and making them scream.

“Sir,” Filon gasped, “You must stop appearing like that.”

“Like what?” He smiled. “I came to make some lavender tea,” he said. “Would you like some?”

“Yes, please,” Artyom said. He walked up to Filon and stood close to him. 

Filon stepped a little to the left, so there was no distance separating them and he could feel Artyom’s warmth. He watched as the Captain started putting more woods to the stove. “What do you mean, Sir?”

“If you decide to stay with Mark and Ekaterina, you will see for yourselves. I agree, Mark misses his youth, but so do I and, I dare think so does His Majesty. Or, maybe they all miss the family we had. I know I miss my brother so much,” he told them seriously as he filled a pot with water. “And I miss Cousin Mark, even though we are not serious at all when we are together. Or, perhaps that is why I miss him.”

“And His Majesty? What does he miss?”

“Friends.”

Filon stared at Artyom. “He’s a bit close to his friends.”

“Asking for hugs from you, Sir,” Artyom whispered.

The Captain snorted. “As if you weren’t close to each other, even before you decided to consider my suggestion to play with Mark, if Mark asked you to.”

Filon reddened. He always asked Artyom for favours, when he didn’t feel like pleasing himself, and Artyom always asked him. 

“I’m not saying that you are like Ivan and Fedot, who couldn’t figure out they loved each other for months,” the Captain continued. “I’m saying you are friends, who asked for more than hugs every now and then. If you want an example of friends who just give hugs, take Sila and Maxim. Sila now also hugs Maxim often ever since they came back from Krzydzov, even before that used to be mostly Valery’s job.” He shrugged. “It happens. We are working together a lot, and we have just spent six whole months living next to each other. It is to be expected that we have grown close to each other.” He stared at them. “A little too close, in some cases. Understandable.”

“So, His Majesty…” Filon started.

“His Majesty shared this camaraderie with his friends, who almost all died in one day. He came here, where His Majesty kept him in a gold cage, and then he got out, saw you, and…” he smiled. “Is it any wonder he wants friends?” 

“He’s closer to you, though,” Artyom said. 

“One need not have friends close to his age only. One of our best friends is Major Smith, and he’s six years older than Grisha and me. As for Prince Krzyzanowslavski, whom I hold in the highest esteem and I am so proud to call a friend, he’s twenty years older than me. I think, as time passes, His Majesty will come closer to some of you. I would bet on Valery and Maxim,” he smiled. “Evgeni too. Ah, the water is starting to boil.”

“So, what do we do?”

“You could come upstairs, if you want,” he said as he brought down from a shelf a large teapot and six matching cups. “We might be weird, though. Sometimes, I can’t stop being Cousin Vasya to Cousin Mark, and this is one of those times.” He shivered.

“Why didn’t you trust us and tell us?” Filon suddenly asked. “That you expected His Majesty to…”

“Because I didn’t want Mark to think you were lying to him. I’m sorry.” 

Filon sighed. The Captain had done the right thing. Even though he wasn’t sure where this relationship was going, he cared enough for both Mark and Katya. And those two would never forgive them if they were joking about romances while they knew that their cousin was saying his goodbyes. 

“Apology accepted,” Artyom said after a few moments. 

“I’m glad he didn’t,” Filon smiled. 

“So am I. He’s grown close to me, and it would have been hard for him to… you know.” He sighed. “I really hope he makes more friends at Ivanhof. The life of a ruler is hard enough as it is, he doesn’t need solitude as well.” He put dried lavender buds and linden tea in the teapot and filled it with water. “Well, I do hope you will join us upstairs. If not, I wish you good night, Gentlemen.”

Filon watched as the Captain walked upstairs. “Well?”

Artyom also looked at him. “I am curious,” he said quietly. “Are they themselves now, or were they themselves before?”

Filon nodded. He too wanted to know. 

Hurriedly, they followed the Captain upstairs. 

“My Lady, My Lords, Your tea,” they heard the Captain say in Valentinois. 

“You are most kind,” Katya said in the same language as they walked into the dining room. 

“Sweet zephyr brings with it the smells of spring,” Mark grinned, also speaking to them in Valentinois. “Delicate lavender and sweet thyme, and roses too, sun-kissed and…” 

The Young Lord stared at him, smiling. 

“Our Tutor in Valentinois would torture us with such verses,” he continued. “He was so horrible; he’d hit us on the palms if we missed an adjective.”

“Unlike you, I never had such problems,” the Young Lord said a little smugly. “I always was a very good student. And you, Vasya? Filon, Artyom, how nice of you to join us.”

“I was good, but only because of Grisha,” he smiled as he poured tea for everyone. 

“How come?”

“Grisha,” he smiled, “was so curious about languages, so I had to teach him Valentinois, but in order to do that, I had to learn it well myself.”

“Ah,” the Young Lord smiled dreamily. 

“Love is so wonderful, isn’t it?” Mark smiled. 

“It is.”

“Yet,” the Young Lord asked, “you would rather obey an unjust law rather than…” He pulled the papers and brought them in front of him. “Let’s have another look at these drafts before I write them out well and sign them. We don’t want to miss anything, do we?”

“We can look at them in the morning,” Mark said tiredly. 

“We should go back.”

The Young Lord looked at them. “Must you? It is late, and… Nikolaj left me with a bed that fits six. I wonder if it does,” he said, sounding annoyed. 

“Sire,” Mark gasped, while Katya yawned behind her fan. 

“What? It’s not like I’m asking you to do anything other than sleep.”

“I’m happier sleeping on the floor,” Vasya told them. “I find beds uncomfortable.”

“You’re lying, the way you say that you find closets comfortable,” the Young Lord said, annoyed. 

“You went hiding?” Mark looked stricken. “Ah, I really will punch Nikolaj when I see him.”

“At this point, there will be a line of people wanting to punch Nikolaj. You will have to wait,” the Young Lord said seriously. He stood up. “Well?”

Lady Ekaterina was the first to get up. “I’m sleepy and tired, and I prefer a bed to the floor. I don’t care what anyone will say. I’m tired.”

Mark followed her and grabbed the Captain by the arm, making him gasp and grimace. “Sorry,” he said, not looking very sorry, and grabbing him by the right arm, “Up you go,” he said, and pulled him up. 

Filon shrugged. They were weird, but … he was also tired. He stood up. 

“This is wrong,” the Captain said. “I’ll take the sofa there.”

“If you do, so will I,” Mark grinned.

“And if you do, so will I,” said the Young Lord. 

Artyom stood up and pulled the Captain together with Mark into the Young Lord’s bedroom. 

“It is a big bed,” Filon said. 

“I know. What was he thinking?” 

“He’s a big man, he likes to stretch his limbs.” Mark jumped on the bed and spread both arms and legs, showing them. “Like that.”

“There’s still space,” Lady Ekaterina grinned as she too jumped next to her husband and snuggled next to him. 

Elik lay on one side. “Yes, there is,” he said, stretching his arm and showing that his hand did not reach Mark’s. “I think this bed fits more than six people,” he said. 

While they were playing, the Captain had been opening all the closets and dressers in the room. Finally he must have found what he was looking for, because he stopped, took out a couple of blankets and several sheets and went back to the living room. 

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Mark said, springing up and running after him. 

They heard the noise of scuffle from the room next door. 

“If he’d rather sleep on the sofa, let him,” Katya shouted. 

The noises stopped, but neither Mark nor the Captain returned to the bedroom. They waited for a few minutes, and finally Artyom went out of the room to see what was happening. He came back grinning. “Actually, I will also join them,” he said as he went to get more blankets.

Curious, Katya rose from the bed. A moment later, she was back, smiling, and going for the blankets.

“We should join them,” Filon said, even though he had no idea what they were doing.

The Young Lord nodded, picked up the comforter from the bed and dragged it out. “Oh, yes,” he shouted, excitedly. 

Filon took the last of the blankets out and went into the living room, where Mark and the Captain were trying to make a tent in the middle of the room using the sheets and some ropes that the Captain had found who knew where.

“Filon, let’s bring the mattresses from the guest rooms over,” the Young Lord grinned. 

“This is so much fun,” Katya laughed from where she was watching them.

Filon followed the Young Lord out. It seemed that he’d just got himself involved with some really big children but… there were worst things in life than building tents indoors. 

&*&*

_Still moving, 29th of Fire Month_

_Darling,_

_Those Oerestandish people are mad. Today they let me walk into the town of Krevenholm. The army left the town undefended, gates thrown open, and the ships burning in the harbour. All fifty of them._

_That was the only thing they burned. Not houses, not storage rooms, no nothing._

_Crazy people._

_We should be at the Capital in a month. You will be with Us, won’t you?_

_Your very loving, but still very confused husband,_

_Your Nikolaj_

Ah, if only he would talk to Him!

Sighing, he started the next letter. 

_Dear Vassily,_

_I hope you are well._

_You have been asking me to transfer Lesnev to your command, and ordinarily, I would not deny you anything. However, I have chosen him to keep my One and Only safe and I would like him to continue doing that. This means that he must work closely with Mark, more closely than with you._

_I hope you understand._

_Your friend,_

_Nikolaj_

That was easy. And it had only taken him … nine? Ten? Days to reply?

Ah, fuck. 

_Dear Vasya,_

_I hope you are well._

_By now you must have received my invitation to come here that I sent through my One and Only._

_Vasya, I hope you will come and will have forgiven…_

Did Vasya even know what he had done to Grisha? He probably did, but what if he didn’t? He crossed out the letter and didn’t bother starting a new one. 

Why was this stroll across Oerestand the only thing that was easy in his life?


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, for the formatting errors... might fix them tomorrow

30th 

“So, what are your plans for the day?” Mark asked Vasya as he sipped some tea. 

“I will go to the Reds’ Barracks.”

Again?

His question must have shown on his face, because Vasya smiled at him. “I expect them to have finished offering incense for your quick recovery and to be ready to depart. I would like to see them off. Also,” he grinned, “I want to read out your most magnanimous decree pardoning us all and your even more marvelous decree with the reforms. If Mark hadn’t insisted that we have breakfast together, I would have been there already.”

Elik smiled at him. “I hope both decrees will be well-received.”

“Oh, they will be, Sire. Thank you. And your plans?”

“Dukes Theissen and Okdranov will visit me, so we can work. I wish I could be there with you but…”

“Soon, Sire. I have every trust in my team that their interrogation of cousin B. will be most fruitful.”

“I hope so.”

“Captain?” Lev shouted from the ground floor. 

“With your permission.” Vasya didn’t wait for it, and ran down. Moments later he was back, smiling apologetically. “A letter from His Majesty.” He handed it to Elik.

With a deep breath, he opened it. “He says he’s sorry,” he whispered, “and that there is something wrong with him, but he will fix it.” He looked at them. “It feels too little, too late,” he sighed. 

“He’s trying,” Lady Ekaterina told him kindly. 

“He really is. It’s hard for him to say he’s sorry,” Mark said. 

“But once he sets his mind to do something, he does it,” Vasya reassured him. “If he says he will fix whatever the problem is, then he will.”

“You have a lot of faith in him.”

They nodded. 

He looked at Filon and Artyom. “If you love him, you should have faith in him too,” Artyom said.

He did love him, but trusting him… Not so much. “I will try,” he said. 

Vasya finished his tea. “I will be on my way now, but I will be back for lunch.”

“Oh, no, you won’t,” Mark smiled. “You are having lunch with me. At Ivanhof.”

Vasya paled. “But…”

“You’re not scared of the courtiers, are you?” he continued. 

“Or the Ladies?” Lady Ekaterina grinned.

“Well….”

Elik smiled at him encouragingly. “You must start showing up at lunches and dinners at Ivanhof, Vasya, or We will be very disappointed when We are well.”

“Fine,” Vasya murmured as he stood up. He picked up the folder from the table and saluted them before leaving. 

Within moments, everyone had finished breakfast and left him alone.

Elik sighed. He couldn’t understand anything anymore. He couldn’t. 

He picked up a piece of paper and started writing. 

_My Love, My Heart, My Nikolaj,_

_How are you?_

_I am very well, but things here have not been well at all._

_You must have heard of the general unrest in the army in the last three days and so, even though We and the committee are not finished with the work on the Military Reforms Bill, We have decided to issue an Imperial Decree with the following three points:_

_1\. Abolition of corporal punishment in the army for everyone. No more will a superior officer be allowed to punish a subordinate by whipping for minor offences, or disciplinary purposes, nor will this be a punishment after inquest, trial, and judgement. NONE of the superior officers means that even you, My Dear Heart, cannot punish your officers anymore, as you used to._

_2\. We have changed the lifelong service to the army to service of 25 years_

_3\. We have granted the right to soldiers and officers to request early retirement when there are extenuating circumstances, such as the ones specified in your drafts of the bill (caring for dependent family members, for example)._

_My Husband, We had to take these measures in order to mollify the troops, because there was fear of rebellion among ALL the Regiments, starting from those stationed in the Capital._

_We have also issued a decree pardoning all the officers who took part in the mutiny as the army never intended to rebel but they only wanted justice for one of their own. One officer, in particular, did everything he could to stop the mutiny from becoming a rebellion, and We would like to honour and reward him, but We have not decided how yet. If you have any ideas, please share them with Us._

_My Heart, as you can see, I have chosen to push forward with the main points of the reforms bill as this time was most difficult here. Our Most Trusted and Loyal Friend is now on his way to read the decrees to the troops and We hope this will pacify them and make them disband peacefully and go to their posts. Furthermore, the Council and I all agree that only such assurances can make the army happy and perhaps prevent another such occurrence in the future._

_Your loving husband,_

_Your Elik_

He put that letter aside to give to Count Rasoulin. He wanted a copy of this in the archives. 

Then, he started his personal letter. 

_My Heart, My Love, My Nikolaj,_

_I have promised to be honest with you in all things, and so I shall._

_The unrest of the troops was caused by news of your unjust and harsh punishment of G. I was certain that V’s husband would be someone worthy of him and admirable, but I had no idea to what extent he truly is, and how loyal the soldiers and officers are to him. Especially those of his own regiment, but also of all the other Capital regiments._

_V managed to stop them from outright rebellion in the first two days of the unrest, and he only left the Barracks of the Reds yesterday, when he escorted me to the Capital and then…_

He stopped. How could he write about these things?

_Nikolaj, if I hadn’t turned at that particular moment that I turned, the bullet of Francis’ assassin would have hit me in the heart. I would have survived, but I would not have been able to lie that I am unwell. I would have had either to reveal that I survived, or pretend that I was dead._

__

Everything is in the reports you must have been getting. I am still feeling too upset over everything, and your letter telling me that you will explain? 

What do you want to explain, and how will you explain this to me? 

G went to you on his own in order to ask you to save my life. I am hurt, Nikolaj, I really am that you would punish someone so loyal to Us in this manner, and also that my life matters so little to you. I had been told that you like ‘noble’ things and what G had proposed was not ‘noble enough’ but I had hoped that… 

I was told that G came to see you on the 20th, but you only authorised his plan on the 22nd. 

You claimed to love me, Nikolaj. Why did it take you three days to decide that my life was worth saving? If I had been told that your life was in danger, I wouldn’t have waited for a single second. 

Or, does your silence mean that you do not love me anymore? You have not written to me in days, and I know it takes 9 days for a letter to reach us from Nisdruna, where you were (and I have no idea what witchery G’s contacts used to get their information to V within 6 days instead of 9). If that is so, then so be it. 

I still love you, My Husband. If you have forsaken me, I will do as you please. But if you haven’t, then, please, explain this to me. 

Your hurt Husband, 

_Your Elik_

__He read both his letters, and then crossed the personal one out. He really didn’t want to write to him. He needed to think about it more._ _

__“Your Majesty?” Flor said. “You have visitors,” Ilya said with a grin._ _

__“Yes, yes.” How he loved having visitors! Anything to distract him from what needed to be said between him and his husband._ _

__& *&*_ _

__Vasily finished reading the second of the decrees and took a deep breath, bracing himself for the cheers._ _

__“Hurrah for the Regent,” they all started shouting for several minutes._ _

__“Let’s offer incense for him!” someone from the middle shouted the moment they had calmed down and they all started shouting again._ _

__“Won’t they ever stop being so excited?” Maxim whispered behind him._ _

__“Hush,” Alec said. “Lesnev, you want to lead them to the Altar?”_ _

__Vasily looked at the men. “And then what? Have them gambling and drinking and using the Main Building as an Orgy Hall?”_ _

__“It’s worked well so far,” Lanskoy laughed._ _

__“Is that the right attitude for soldiers?”_ _

__“Vasya,” Glinof cried, “You’re back!” He suddenly hugged him, and the men went quiet._ _

__“Our Captain is well,” Roman shouted excitedly. “He wants proper behaviour!”_ _

__“And order,” Peter the Tall shouted just as loudly._ _

__The men around them laughed, as the Guards saluted him._ _

__“I want what is right,” he told them, as more and more of the men began standing in attention. “We have been heard,” he smiled at his friends, “We have been pardoned, and we will get His Majesty there to listen to us and apologize. This I vow to you. Now, we must return to our duties.”_ _

__“But we want to know how His Majesty is.”_ _

__Vasily sighed. “He has been wounded on the side, and when he wakes up, he is in pain most horrible. Yet, as you witnessed, in those moments, his thoughts were first to us, his men, and how best to show his love towards us. Will we let him down by wasting our time, instead of doing our duty in turn?”_ _

__“No, Sir,” they all shouted._ _

__“Still weird,” Alec whispered behind him._ _

__Yet, no one moved, not even the Majors._ _

__“You want to stay here?”_ _

__Lanskoy nodded. “Yes? Just one more day? If I win a few more eggs, I will have enough to bake cakes for my battalion.”_ _

__“And the news from the Capital yesterday stopped our game in the middle. I was winning too,” Dobrov said._ _

__“That is not appropriate behaviour, though,” Vasily protested._ _

__“What do you suggest we do, then? Ivin asked him._ _

__“With your permission, Alec, can I tell them a story?”_ _

__“As long as it doesn’t start with ‘we were young, we were in love’,” Alec laughed._ _

__“But those are the best stories,” Trebyanin said._ _

__“Yes,” Lanskoy agreed._ _

__“Please, Sir?” Maxim and Valery asked him._ _

__He took a step forward. “You know the battle between kings Laurus and Dvina, right?”_ _

__“Yes, Sir!”_ _

__He raised his hand. “To my left, Team Laurus, and to my right, team Dvina. Teams, take a step to your right and to your left respectively.”_ _

__The moment they did, a path opened between them._ _

__“As you know, the battle was a swift and decisive one, with Laurus defeating Dvina within hours, but… Grisha and I always thought that Dvina could have won, if only….”_ _

__“If only?”_ _

__“You will tell me what,” he grinned at them. “Men, you have thirty minutes to decide on your leaders, which was exactly the time Laurus had to defend himself from Dvina’ sudden advance on his camp. Then, you will march there,” he pointed to the fields beyond the shooting range, “Take your positions, and your leaders will lead you to battle. The objective is not to recreate the battle, but to redo it, and figure out how Dvina could have won. You may mock-fight, or you may discuss your maneuvers.”_ _

__The men stared at him for a moment._ _

__“This is going to be even better than talking strategy at a Trip,” Alexei shouted excitedly. “Team Laurus, follow me!”_ _

__“Someone has decided to be the leader, just like Laurus took the crown for himself,” Vasily grinned. “Team Laurus, do you accept your Leader?”_ _

__“Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah.”_ _

__Team Dvina had split up in smaller groups and they were talking among themselves, clearly preferring a different process to choosing their Leader._ _

__“Well, Gentlemen,” he told Alec and the others, “that will keep them busy in a manner befitting soldiers for a while. Then…”_ _

__“They can return to the Orgy Hall,” Ross grinned._ _

__“Indeed.”_ _

__“And you? Will you stay?”_ _

__“No. The Chancellor has ordered me to appear at court for lunch, so it makes sense to go back to Ivanhof and work,” he sighed miserably. “Lunch at court,” he sighed deeply._ _

__Lanskoy and Alec stared at him, shaking their heads._ _

__“Poor you,” Trebyanin said. “Getting to eat at court instead of the Mess Hall.”_ _

__“You don’t know what the courtiers are like,” he shivered. And his cousins would be there! “But I will be back in time before dinner, to find out who won.” And if he were lucky, he might avoid dinner at court!_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Duchess Theissen stood up the moment Vasya walked in. “I refuse to sit in the same room as traitors,” she shouted. “Dima, up,” she told her husband._ _

__Duchess Andrejevich did the same. “Adam,” she told him. “Get up.”_ _

__Everyone started murmuring and pointing at him behind their fans._ _

__Vasya stared at Mark, both helplessly and frustrated. Oh, no, Vasya was about to run! He would not have that._ _

__“Enough,” Mark suddenly said loudly, standing up. “You, come here,” he told him. “And you,” he turned towards Duchess Theissen, “Come here.”_ _

__Warily, Vasya approached Mark. At least Mavra seemed just as uncomfortable._ _

__“This man did more to stop the mutiny from becoming a rebellion than all of you together,” Mark said when Vasya stopped next to him. “And His Majesty, in a brief moment of lucidity, signed the decree the Council had prepared pardoning him for any involvement he had. So, I will not hear another word against him and, believe me, neither will His Majesty, when he is well. Understood?”_ _

__“Yes, Chancellor,” they all replied, looking somewhat embarrassed._ _

__“As for you, Mavra,” Mark told her, “You may not be the Head of the Main Branch of the Stanjisnki House, but you are the Head of the Second Branch, and your word matters. I do not expect you to forgive Vasya, but you must show respect to Lesnev in recognition of his services to the Crown, understood?”_ _

__She stared at Mark blankly._ _

__“If I may,” Vasya told them. When Mark nodded, he continued, “I am sorry for marrying without the blessing of He Who Was My Father. I should not have done it, but...” He sighed dreamily. “I was really in love with Grisha.”_ _

__Most of the Ladies let out a soft sigh._ _

__“I still am, for that matter,” he told her seriously._ _

__Mavra frowned, but even more of the Ladies sighed, including Ekaterina._ _

__“I hope you can forgive me for betraying my family. I only did it because I had to heed the call of love, the most powerful and wonderful force in the universe, that which guides nature itself.”_ _

__Everyone sighed, and Mark did as well. Ah, even if his cousin gave them the Love is Wonderful lecture, this time he would let him say it._ _

__Mavra sighed as well, but not as softly or dreamily as the other courtiers. No, it was more of a resigned huff. “I guess… I can forgive you that,” she muttered. “At least you are good for something, unlike your brother.”_ _

__“Hey,” Vasya protested._ _

__“It’s the truth,” she said forcefully. “Sasha is good only for writing… stuff.”_ _

__That set the courtiers murmuring again._ _

__“You don’t know if he still writes… stuff.”_ _

__She snorted. “He must be. What else can he be doing up there?”_ _

__“Fucking?” someone laughed._ _

__“He has more concubines than Mikhail II. Or so they say,” another said loudly._ _

__“Both male and female,” a third added._ _

__Vasya glared at her. “See what you’ve done now?” he whispered._ _

__“It’s not like he’s here to be offended,” she sneered._ _

__“Children,” Mark shouted at them. “Enough. What do we say?”_ _

__Mavra huffed. “On behalf of the Second Branch, I forgive you, Cousin Vasya.”_ _

__“And I gratefully thank you for your forgiveness, Cousin Mavra,” Vasya glared at her._ _

__Mark made a gesture for them to finish this._ _

__With a put-upon sigh, Mavra kissed him on the cheeks and he kissed her back, huffing._ _

__“Finally,” Mark grinned as he embraced them both. “At last.”_ _

__They both huffed and glared at him, but then Vasya sat quietly next to him, and Mavra returned to Dima’s side._ _

__“Fuck, I need a drink,” Mavra said quite loudly as she sat down._ _

__Maybe they could start having some alcohol at lunches and dinners now that His Majesty was severely wounded and not attending them with them._ _

__Vasya sighed. “Cousin Mark, pass this on to Cousin Mavra, please?” he asked him, giving him his flask with that odourless, very subtly flavoured liquid that burned. With a nod, he took it, gave it to Ekaterina who was at his left, she passed it to Dima, and he to Mavra._ _

__She looked at it suspiciously for a moment, glanced at Vasya, but her desire to have a drink won over her caution. She opened it and, under the curious gazes of everyone, she took a sip. And then another. And another. Suddenly, she stood up, looking emotional. “Cousin Vasya, this is Great Uncle Yaroslav’s Secret Fortifying Elixir!” She took another sip. “I never thought I’d drink this again after Uncle Pavel…” she sniffled and drank some more._ _

__“Grandfather gave me his recipe,” Vasuya said simply._ _

__Mavra’s eyes widened. “Did he also give you the recipe for his Secret Punch of Happiness for Special Days?”_ _

__Vasya nodded. “Yes, but I only serve it before the Winter Solstice Ball.”_ _

__Mavra sighed deeply. “I have been trying to recreate it for years with no success. Cousin Vasya, will you share the recipe with me?”_ _

__“Of course, Cousin Mavra,” he smiled at her._ _

__With a happy sigh, she sat down and continued drinking that liquid fire._ _

__Mark looked at them. If he had known that all he had to do to make the Stanjinskis shut up about Vasya, would be to get Vasya to get them drunk, he would have done it. Ah. What an idiot he’d been. They were all fucking Stanjinskis. Naturally, they would reconcile over drinks with Vasya._ _

__“Cousin Vasya?” someone said timidly from the end of the long table to their right, “Cousin Yuri, from the Fourth Branch. Do you also have the recipe for the Secret Punch For All Days? I haven’t had that in years,” he said, and his voice was full of hope._ _

__Vasya nodded. “I think that would be a good drink to have today. With your permission?”_ _

__Mark nodded._ _

__“I will go to the kitchens and make some,” he told them as he stood up. As he started walking out of the Small Banquet Hall, Mavra whispered something to her husband and then hurried after Vasya. The moment she stood up, she was followed by all the Stanjinskis in the room. They all left, chatting among themselves quietly, and possibly about drinks._ _

__“Stanjinskis,” Pavel marveled to his right._ _

__“Yes, if I had known that all Mavra was trying to do all these years when she was mixing punches was to recreate the recipe for the…”_ _

__“Secret Punch of Happiness for Special Days,” Filon whispered behind him and he repeated it._ _

__“I would have asked you to ask Cousin Vasya years ago. Although, she has come up with some wonderful punches during these years,” he grinned._ _

__“I remember the Punch for All Days,” Ekaterina smiled. “Remember how there would be a children’s version for us?”_ _

__Mark nodded._ _

__Adam grinned. “I remember that too. It had compote in it, didn’t it? Usually cherry, but remember the times it had strawberry?”_ _

__Even though it was hard to listen to what Adam was saying because of the noise in the hall, he let the courtiers murmur as much as they pleased while they waited. It kept them from thinking too much about His Majesty and being all miserable that they would have to be even more solemn from then on._ _

__The Banquet Hall doors opened again and Vasya stepped in next to Mavra. Behind them were four from the Minor Stanjinski Branches, each pair carrying a tray with a massive glass bowl filled with the Punch for All Days. The other Stanjinskis followed them in a line._ _

__“It really is like the days of Old Pavel,” Pavel said, stunned. “He’d do the same.”_ _

__Mark nodded, and he was not the only one. It was so odd to see Vasya taking his father’s place. So odd, and so right too. Ah, he really had to figure out how to restore his inheritance to him. Mavra was right; Sasha was only good for writing… stuff. He would never make drinks for them._ _

__Vasya and Mavra stepped aside so that the others could put the trays down in front of Mark._ _

__“The Punch for All Days. It would have been better if we let the flavours infuse for a while, but,” Vasya grinned, “we were impatient.”_ _

__“But we made more for dinner,” Mavra said happily. “You will see how much better that will be.”_ _

__“And of course, we made the adult and the children’s version.”_ _

__“Hurrah,” Adam shouted, laughing. “May I have some of the children’s version? Please?”_ _

__“And I will mix the two,” Mark said proudly. Now that he was an adult, he could! He smiled. He had to write to Nikolaj that he’d been right to want Vasya back at court. He’d be fun to have!_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Elik laughed as Maxim finished the story of the Great Reconciliation. “I’m glad this happened,” he said as he drank a little of the children’s version of the Punch for All Days. The adult version was good, but the children’s version was better. “Look, a cherry,” he said as he lifted his cup to see it better._ _

__“Yes, they make it with fruit compote.”_ _

__He finished his drink. “And the others?”_ _

__“Still at the Reds’ Barracks,” Valery told him. “Team Dvina is trying hard to beat Team Laurus.”_ _

__“Why couldn’t they just go home?”_ _

__“Because they are now worried for you, Sire,” Maxim smiled._ _

__“At least, they are playing war. That is more fitting for soldiers than gambling,” Valery said._ _

__Elik nodded. “But we can still play cards, right?”_ _

__“Of course, Sire.”_ _

__Jan smiled from the entrance to the room. “You have guests, Sire.”_ _

__“Let them up. The more the merrier, right, Gentlemen?”_ _

__“Indeed.”_ _

__And the more they were, and the merrier they behaved, the less he’d think about his husband._ _

__& *&*_ _

__“Master, Master,” Masha told him gently, waking him up from his post-lunch nap._ _

__Sasha opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Hey,” he said, sitting up and taking her in his arms. “What is it, darling?”_ _

__Masha pointed behind her. “The messenger with the summer letter from His Grace is here.”_ _

__“From Duke Pervert?” He made a gesture. “Tell him to go back where he came from.”_ _

__“I can’t,” Masha whispered. “He’s here.”_ _

__Sasha looked past her. She was right. A messenger wearing a red livery was standing in attention by the door. “Go away,” he told him. “I refuse to engage in conversation with imperial pigs and dogs.”_ _

__“My instructions were clear, Your Grace. Either you read this letter yourself, or I will read it out loud to you.” He took a step forward, and several soldiers in red walked in his bedroom. “If you resist, I have orders to tie you down and make you listen.”_ _

__Sasha huffed. “Fucking imperial dog,” he muttered. “Fine, give this shit to me. I will read it.” The moment the messenger gave the letter to him, Sasha tore it to pieces. “There,” he said triumphantly. “What will you…”_ _

__His glee ended abruptly when the messenger took out another letter and nodded._ _

__The soldiers approached him._ _

__“No, no, wait, I will read it myself,” he cried. The men ignored him. One of them moved Masha away from him, another woke up Karl gently and told him to go elsewhere, and a third carried a crying Nadya off the bed._ _

__“I promise, I will read it,” he cried again. “What are you doing to Nadya, you beast?”_ _

__“Taking her outside. This letter is for you only, Sir.”_ _

__Making a soft noise of protest, Sasha extended his hand. “Please, let go of my servants and give me this thing.”_ _

__The messenger did, and the soldiers released his bedmates. They all hugged him as he opened the letter and started reading and reading and …. “Was Vasya really hurt? Or is he lying to me?”_ _

__The messenger huffed. “Why would His Grace lie to you, Sir? You are his cousin. Yes, it is true, Count Lesnev was injured while doing his duty.”_ _

__That stupid man… Sasha felt like crying and Karl started kissing his nape soothingly, while Nadya petted his hair._ _

__He continued reading the letter, as well as the document that Mark had enclosed in it. The more he read, the more tears he had. Oh, how he missed Vasya! Did he really grow up like that? And that was Grisha? Did they look like this?_ _

__Vasya looked so much like Mama in her Great and Official Portrait in that last drawing; same soft expression, same noble, gentle, handsome features. Oh, how Vasya had grown. And Grisha… Fuck, if Grisha weren’t his brother-in-law, he would totally try seducing him. Vasya was one lucky man._ _

__Looking at the last drawing, he sighed again. If Vasya weren’t his brother, he’d try seducing him too._ _

__Ah, fuck! Why did his family have such handsome men? That wasn’t fair!_ _

__But they were his family, and, he’d rather have his brother and his brother-in-law than another bedmate. He had plenty of those but only one brother, and one brother-in-law._ _

__How much he wanted to see them again, and talk to them. He sniffled and tried not to get the story all damp with his tears with the help of the handkerchief that Karl had given him._ _

__“Master,” Masha said when he finished reading, her soft, plump hand caressing his cock, “What if you wrote back to His Grace this time?”_ _

__Sasha looked at her. “Masha, you are right. I will write to him.” He pushed them all aside and grabbed his dressing gown. “But first, I must do something else. Vera, Zurik?” he shouted._ _

__Vera and Zurik appeared immediately. “Yes, Master?” they asked, bowing deeply._ _

__“Please, treat my guests to tea, and anything else they may desire. Masha, Karl, Nadya, we have work to do!” He had to calm himself before writing, and, as always, work was the perfect remedy for his anxiety. “Oh, Zurik? I will also need Martin. Can you please tell him to join us in the study? And… Ah, call everyone. I need help. A lot of help!”_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Vasily looked up from Stefan and Sergei’s report at the knock. “Enter.”_ _

__“Sir, letters for you.”_ _

__He looked at Andrik with despair. “How many bags this time?”_ _

__“Only one.”_ _

__He sighed with relief. “Finally.” He had to start replying to them soon. Maybe he would organize all the letters according to sender, instead of by date. That way, if he had multiple letters from one sender, he could save himself the trouble of sending multiple replies._ _

__“And these,” Andrik said, handing him a few letters separate from the others._ _

__The first was from Evgeni and Carel, one from Lady Irina, and the last was from… “Grisha wrote to me,” he gasped._ _

__Andrik nodded happily. “What does he write, Sir? If I may ask.”_ _

__Vasily broke the seal and read it quickly. Oh._ _

__“Bad news?”_ _

__He looked up. “No, not at all.” But Grisha was not really writing to him. He was writing to his men._ _

__Oh, well. At least some of the contents were for him. Sasha was getting pardoned! What would he tell Sasha? And what would Sasha tell him? How could he face Sasha without Grishka to hold him and tell him what to say? He didn’t know what to say to him._ _

__He looked at the letter again and smiled. “I must go to the Reds’ Barracks and read this to them. It’s from Grisha! Andrik, with me! You need to hear this with the men.”_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Elik smiled. “What do you think of this vanilla cake?”_ _

__“It is excellent, Sire,” Mark said._ _

__Ekaterina nodded, still chewing._ _

__“One of your best,” Filon smiled._ _

__“Can I have some more?” Artyom asked, offering his empty plate._ _

__“Of course. You know,” he told them, “I need to find another hobby. I will grow fat if I keep making cakes and pies while I am unwell.”_ _

__“I am certain His Majesty won’t mind,” Mark grinned._ _

__Elik frowned. “Who cares what he thinks? It will be bad for myself.”_ _

__Mark and Ekaterina shared a look._ _

__“Will you go back to Ivanhof or stay the night here?” He grinned. “We could make a new tent, one big enough for everyone in the retreat.” He was certain that the team below would love it!_ _

__“We could,” Ekaterina smiled._ _

__“You have guests, Sire,” Peter the Short suddenly said._ _

__“Let them in. At least I have guests. It makes the time pass more pleasantly. Ah, Vasya. We missed you at dinner.”_ _

__“I’m sorry, Sire, but I had great news, so I had to share them with the men and they wouldn’t let me leave.” Vasya sat facing Mark. “Also, I have great news for you too. The men have agreed to leave the Barracks after offering more incense for your health.”_ _

__“Finally,” Mark gasped. “About time.”_ _

__Elik smiled. “Can you share your other great news?”_ _

__“Yes. Grisha wrote to us. Mostly to the men, but to me too, and… Oh, Sire, he is so wonderful. He asked them to forgive His Majesty, and they did. They even took a new oath of loyalty to him, to show that they only mutinied for justice and not because they wanted to overthrow him.”_ _

__“Hm, I wonder who had that idea,” Mark muttered._ _

__“I wonder too,” Vasya grinned._ _

__Elik’s expression fell. “You really are so lucky.”_ _

__“Sire…”_ _

__“It’s after dinner.”_ _

__“Fine. Elik, Grisha and I have been together for fourteen years. Of course, we work better as a couple, but we too had our difficulties at first. We still do, only we have made a conscious decision to discuss what bothers us, instead of letting it destroy our relationship.”_ _

__“Surely nothing bothers you,” he said miserably._ _

__“Oh, many things do.” Vasya smiled at him. “Grisha was jealous of you, Elik. He even asked me if I had fallen in love with you, and for him to ask, that meant it really bothered him.”_ _

__Elik was shocked. But everyone knew Vasya was crazy about Grisha. How could Grisha have worried about that?_ _

__“And everyone at Nisdruna keeps writing about this Michal.” Vasya frowned. “I am a little worried about him. Grisha says he doesn’t know what he’s doing with him, but everyone writes how he takes care of him, and he’s been really protective of him and…” He looked at them, and his worry was obvious. “What if he’s falling in love with him?”_ _

__Elik chocked on the piece of cake he was eating._ _

__“Grisha? No,” Mark protested._ _

__“No,” Lady Ekaterina also said, with a shocked expression._ _

__“I hope you are right,” Vasya told them seriously. “So, you see, Elik, when I see him, that will be the first thing I will ask him. Or rather… the second.”_ _

__“What’s the first one?”_ _

__“If he forgives me for destroying his life.”_ _

__Everyone gasped._ _

__“I did. I made him marry me.”_ _

__Elik frowned. Vasya looked so honest when he said that, and so miserable, even though Mark and Ekaterina’s expressions had changed from shocked to exasperated. Filon and Artyom looked at them with interest, as if they were trying to figure something out._ _

__“I would rather not talk about this before I talk about it with Grisha. Please.”_ _

__“Of course.” So, even Vasya and Grisha, who were madly in love and madly devoted to each other, could have doubts and worries like he did about his husband? He hadn’t expected that._ _

__“What’s that?” Mark nodded towards the letter in Vasya’s pocket._ _

__“Oh, that’s from Her Excellency.” Vasya’s smile fell. “Elik, did you write to her that you are well?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__At everyone’s gasped and shocked ‘what?’ he huffed. “She’s a child. She can’t keep secrets.”_ _

__“I beg to disagree, Elik. She is not an adult yet, but she is growing up, and she will be very worried. I think you should write to her.”_ _

__“I’ll think about it. What does she write to you?”_ _

__Carefully, Vasya opened her letter. “Oh,” he muttered. “She writes that since I was so delighted to receive her story written with Lady Katya, she sends me the one that Lady Olga wrote.” He groaned. “Why?”_ _

__“You are not delighted?”_ _

__Vasya looked at Mark. “Not really,” he said, turning to Elik. “It is a bit embarrassing.”_ _

__“May I see it?”_ _

__“That’s even more embarrassing,” Vasya said._ _

__Mark laughed. “You are so red in the face, Cousin. It must be a good story.”_ _

__“As you can see, I haven’t even looked at it.”_ _

__Lady Ekaterina grabbed it from him. “Then, I will.” She started reading out loud. “ _Major Grigori was so glad he was not a woman. While they spent so much time struggling to decide what to wear, with what jewellery, how to make their hair, and how to best apply their make-up, he only had to open his closet and pull out a full-dress uniform_.”_ _

__“Oh, no, please, stop,” Vasya whined._ _

__“Lady Olga and Irina have written a story about Grisha?” Elik gasped. It was odd, and he would never have expected that from his sister, who was so pragmatic and practical, but… She was his sister! He would encourage her, if that was what she wanted to do._ _

__Lady Ekaterina read quickly along. “Oh, no,” she giggled. “It’s a story about how the most suave and eloquent Major Grigori, serving as a military attaché at the Bosilik embassy at Aedley, goes to a costume ball organized by His Majesty, King Richard, and there gets tongue-tied at the sight of the most dashing and handsome man he has ever seen.”_ _

__Vasya hid his face behind his hands, sighing, while Mark was trying to contain his laughter._ _

__“My sister and her Official Friend wrote a romance?” Elik grinned. “I can’t believe that she did! With your permission,” he said, reaching for the letter._ _

__“This was addressed to me,” Vasya protested and grabbed it from Lady Ekaterina. “Her Excellency did not give me permission to share it, and so I will not.”_ _

__“Oh, Vasya, you will protect my sister’s privacy?” he smiled._ _

__“Yes, Sire. She is a most admirable Young Lady, and I will not betray her will.”_ _

__“If you want to obey her will, though, and not betray it, then you must read her story,” Mark smirked._ _

__“Yes, Mark is right,” Lady Ekaterina nodded._ _

__“I agree,” Elik said. “If you really find it that embarrassing, though, and you don’t want to read it, I would be happy to,” he smiled. “I love romances, and I have never read one where both protagonists are men.” Even though it would be a little weird reading a romance that his sister had written, he could always pretend it wasn’t written by her!_ _

__“Yes, that is true,” Filon said. “It’s always a man and a woman who find love in romances. Never a man and a man.”_ _

__“That’s unfair,” Artyom added._ _

__“Very.”_ _

__They all stared at Vasya. “Fine,” he muttered and began reading it quietly. The more he read, though, the more miserable he looked. “I need to check something,” he suddenly told them, leaving the letter on the table and running out of the drawing room._ _

__They all looked down at it._ _

__“So, do we dare?” Elik asked them. “He is right; Irina did not send it to be shared.”_ _

__“But…” Lady Ekaterina whined. “I want to know what happened once the Major finally got his nerve and approached the dashing stranger.”_ _

__“They probably kissed,” Mark smirked._ _

__“Yes, probably, but still….” Giving them all a daring look, she grabbed the letter and continued reading. “Her Excellency is a very talented artist.”_ _

__“Yes, she is,” he said proudly. “She drew pictures? Oh, you must let me see!”_ _

__“Your Grace?” Peter the Short said shyly from the door, “maybe you can read it to all of us?”_ _

__Smiling, Lady Ekaterina picked up the letter and started walked towards the stairs._ _

__“If we are reading things,” Mark grinned, “Let me get something from my office. Don’t read anything until I am back, I want to hear what happens too!”_ _

__“We will wait for you,” Elik smiled. “I will apologize to Irina when I write to her.” Oh, he really had to tell her the truth now. Or she would never forgive him!_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Vasily walked into His Majesty’s retreat and no one was in the anteroom. A little surprised, he followed the sound of voices to the ground floor dining room. The moment he stepped inside, everyone stopped and stared at him strangely._ _

__Half of them sighed._ _

__That was even worse and stranger than when the courtiers had done it at lunch time. “What is going on?”_ _

__“Nothing,” Elik said, clearly lying._ _

__He let it slide. He had other things to wonder about. “Sire? Chancellor? I request permission to leave.”_ _

__“What?” Elik shouted. “You can’t leave.”_ _

__“I can ask for a leave to visit ill family members.” He smiled a little. “I could even request to retire in order to look after my ill and severely hurt husband.”_ _

__Elik looked devastated for a moment. “You wouldn’t,” he whispered._ _

__“No, I would not, but Sire.” He knelt before Elik. “I need to go to Grisha, Sire. Please? Being away from him right now, it is… ” It was killing him. Seeing Irina’s drawings from both stories, reading how those pure Young Ladies had understood his emotions of longing so well … He needed to go and see him and ask forgiveness and talk to him and figure out what to do about Michal, who was clearly so important to his Grisha, but most importantly, he needed to be with him._ _

__They had already missed one anniversary that year. He could not, he would not spend their wedding anniversary alone in their bed, damn it, waiting with their dogs and cats for Grisha. Either he’d bring Grisha back, or be wherever Grisha was! Even if they were in that hospital room where Grisha was, they’d be together._ _

__He sighed, and everyone sighed deeply, even Elik._ _

__He really couldn’t understand them. “Sire? I am sorry to ask this of you, but I will be leaving you in excellent hands and…”_ _

__Elik suddenly stood up. “Oh, no. I’m coming with you,” he said, looking fierce and proud. “If you are going to see Grisha, who’s right next to where my husband is, then I will come with you and then go up and demand a fucking explanation from him.”_ _

__Vasily was shocked. Not from the language, but the intense emotion in Elik’s voice and eyes. “Sire, I will take you there myself. You do deserve an explanation.”_ _

__“I do, don’t I?”_ _

__All the Guards nodded and started saying that ‘yes, of course you do’._ _

__“But His Majesty is severely wounded,” Mark said._ _

__“Lieutenant Ilin can take my place,” Elik said. “If someone must. I mean, no one sees me but the Guards and the Ministers, and they can live without me for a few weeks.”_ _

__Vasily nodded. “He can do that. Chancellor, what business do you have with His Majesty that cannot wait?”_ _

__“The punishment of the Semyonovs and the …”_ _

__“That can wait,” Elik cut him off. “What else?”_ _

__“The Ambassador of the Bright Empire still waits for a response.”_ _

__“He can wait a little more,” Elik smiled. “He probably hopes that my injury kills me, so his precious Jade Princess can marry my husband.” He spat on the floor three times. “Well, depending on how things go with Him, I may give her my blessing myself when I am back. He can wait.”_ _

__“Yes, Sire,” Mark told him, looking a little surprised._ _

__“I am angry,” Elik told everyone, “And I love him.” He sat on the floor next to Vasya. “You understand, don’t you?” he asked, taking his hands and squeezing them._ _

__“I do,” he said and there was more sighing from the Guards._ _

__“So, when do we leave?”_ _

__“In the morning. I need to prepare my team for my absence, and notify Ilin and… Sire, which five Guards would you like to join us in our trip?”_ _

__“Must it be five?”_ _

__“I want a small team so that we can move quickly. It would be great if we could have more, but the more we are, the more slowly we will move.”_ _

__“And you won’t mind?” Elik asked the Guards that were there._ _

__“Well, we will be disappointed not to join you,” Eynar smiled, “but we understand.”_ _

__Elik stood up and started pacing. “Then…. I would like Maxim and Valery, but…. I also want Master Dijkstra to paint that stupid portrait, just in case…”_ _

__“Lieutenant Gavrilov can stand in for Maxim,” Vasily said._ _

__“Yes, he definitely can,” smiled Cornei._ _

__“Peter the Tall and Leonid are too tall and distinctive, Roman is with Stepan, so that’s another ‘no’, and I really love everyone too much to decide….”_ _

__“Then, may I decide?”_ _

__Elik nodded, smiling happily._ _

__“Thank you.” He stood up. “I must go and prepare. Your Majesty, please pack lightly. I will see you early tomorrow, before dawn.”_ _

__“Dawn is at before five,” Jan said, surprised._ _

__“The earlier we leave, the better.”_ _

__Elik nodded. “I agree. It’s nine now. Chancellor, let us go over the various official business we may have for the next weeks.” He grabbed Mark’s hand and led him upstairs. “I’m going to punch him, if he annoys me,” they heard him shout as he climbed up the stairs._ _

__“He will try,” Vasily assured them._ _

__“Although he might also start crying,” Andrik said._ _

__“That is also likely.” He smiled at them. “Andrik, Sila, Jan?”_ _

__“With all due respect,” Sila said, “I would rather stay here and make sure Viktor settles in his role as his severely wounded Majesty.”_ _

__“Of course. Do you think Vadim will mind?”_ _

__“No, not at all,” Andrik smiled._ _

__“Then, I will you at the Barracks tomorrow morning. Have a nice evening, Gentlemen.”_ _

__“You too, Sir.”_ _

__He nodded, smiling. Yes, he was going to have a nice evening, finally. He was going to Grisha!_ _

__& *&*_ _

__“Captain!”_ _

__Grigori looked up from his plate of food and looked around. “Ah, Symeon! Here!” He raised his hand._ _

__Quickly, Carel and Evgeni who were sitting across him on the table parted and made way for the man._ _

__“Sir, Sir!” he gasped, looking delighted._ _

__“Yes, yes,” Grigori laughed. “What brings you here?”_ _

__“News. I am going to His Majesty.”_ _

__“What luck, so are we. Are you at liberty to share your news?”_ _

__Symeon looked around at the crowded tavern garden, and grinned. “No place more discreet than a garden filled with Huntsmen, Sir.”_ _

__“Well?”_ _

__Grigori passed him a plate of snacks. “Here,” he said, giving him his untouched beer mug. “I don’t feel like drinking much these days.” Alcohol and healing never mixed, but someone always forgot that and got him beer. At least the wolf cubs knew better and always got him water._ _

__“Thank you, Sir,” Symeon said after taking a long swig and sighing happily. He started eating. “The news is dreadful, Sir, and when I left, no one knew how the situation would develop. The Huntsmen and the Reds learned of your punishment and they incited everyone to mutiny.”_ _

__Evgeni and Carel gasped._ _

__Yulian and Igor groaned._ _

__“The Ministers’ Regiments gathered at the Barracks of the Reds and…” Symeon stopped talking between bites for a moment. “Sir, the Cook has persuaded them to relieve the Chancellor of command of the Reds for a month and fine him with the construction of a new Riding Hall.”_ _

__Grigori laughed. “He did? How wonderful. Our old one was in ruins.”_ _

__“And he’s also gathering signatures in a document requesting a public apology from His Majesty for what he did to you.”_ _

__Grigori smiled. Ah, his Vasya; he was so much like a cat, quiet and placid as long as no one stepped on his tail. Then he showed you his claws._ _

__Mir started laughing. “Finally. We did ask for an apology, but what He gave us was not exactly a good one.”_ _

__“Yes, it’s about time he apologizes properly,” Yulian smiled. “I hope you brought copies for us to sign too.”_ _

__“I have, but they are in my dispatch bag, which I left at the garrison. You can sign tomorrow, if you want.”_ _

__“That would be great,” Yulian smiled._ _

__“How is the Captain?” Evgeni asked._ _

__“He is well. He’s completely reco…” he cut himself off._ _

__“I know he was injured, and I am glad to know he is well,” he smiled happily. “Tell me, Symeon, do you also have official reports of what was happening at the Barracks or just the letters and your own testimony?_ _

__“Nothing official on me. That’s not my job.”_ _

__Grigori nodded. So, that meant that the first official reports would arrive in a couple of days and who knew what they would write. He wouldn’t put it past Okdranov’s men to twist everything and make Vasya the one inciting everyone to rebellion against His Majesty. Or… He shuddered. They could even say he was doing all that so he could replace His Majesty and marry Elik. They were quite close, after all. Anyone could misunderstand their relationship._ _

__“Symeon, I am to see His Majesty tomorrow. Will you join me and, before delivering your letters, give your full report to Him?”_ _

__They looked at him strangely._ _

__“Gentlemen, there is not one truth, remember? There is the truth formed of our ideas and perceptions. You two,” he nodded towards Carel and Evgeni, “You can ask Vasya about it. He can explain it better. What I know, though, is that right now, we have a chance to present our truth before the people at Okdranov’s office or the Chancellor’s can present theirs. We must be honest to His Majesty, and make him understand that this is not a rebellion against him, but a request for an apology.” A request for an apology His Majesty could forgive; a threat to his crown, never._ _

__Symeon nodded. “I see.”_ _

__“Good, Now, eat up. We should rest and start early tomorrow. Before dawn, if possible.”_ _

__Traveling was a pain; he might as well get this part over with as soon as he could. Once they were with His Majesty, they too would travel slowly._ _

__“And, Symeon, you must tell me everything that happened at the Barracks while we’re on our way to the camp tomorrow. Everything.”_ _

__How he wished he had written a letter to the men from the very first day that His Majesty had punished him. The mess at the Barracks’ was a result of his lack of foresight, and if anything had happened to Vasya…._ _

__How would he live with himself if anything had happened to Vasya because of his mistake?_ _

__Ah, why was being such an idiot? Vasya would tell him to stop being hard on himself. Mistakes happened, and he had been unwell. He’d probably smile at him and persuade him to stop worrying. Hadn’t you done your best under the circumstances and with your knowledge? He’d tell him. So, no regrets. No regrets._ _

__He’d just need to wait, and wait. “How I wish I were a bird,” he said, “and fly to my beloved.”_ _

__& *&*_ _

__Sasha looked at the copies in front of him. It had taken them most of the day and some of the night too, but they were done, and even had made illustrations for them._ _

__“Ladies, Gentlemen,” he smiled at his team, “We can be proud of ourselves.”_ _

__“Does this mean we can fuck now?” Karl asked him with a wicked smile._ _

__“Not yet. Vera, Zurik, have you packed our bags?”_ _

__“Yes, Master.”_ _

__“Good.” He sat down on the bed and smiled again. “I need to write two letters and then we can fuck.”_ _

__Masha immediately fell across his lap. “Use me, Master!”_ _

__“Thank you, my dear.”_ _

__Martin gave him a piece of paper, Sasha put it on the portable writing desk, and lay that over Masha’s back, making her giggle and sway her legs in the air._ _

__Karl hugged him as he gave him the quill and inkpot._ _

__“We are coming with you, Master, aren’t we?”_ _

__“Of course, Nadya. May I have some peace and quiet now?”_ _

__“Yes, Master,” they all said._ _

__30th of Fire Month,__

____

____

Your Imperial Majesty,

I, Alexander Stanjinski, your most humble and obedient servant ask you so very kindly to forgive me for the unmentionable things that I wrote in my youth, and allow me to return back to the Capital and to my famiily.

Your Majesty? I must beg your indulgence. I am still writing unmentionable things. I know they are not illegal anymore, thanks to Your Majesty’s Most Wise and Discerning Decree, but I would like you to be aware of this. I would not want to return home, only to find that I am not allowed to write such things anymore, despite being at legal liberty to do so, and be sent back. 

I am enclosing my latest work, inspired by…. Well…. They are just characters, Your Majesty, Not He Who Was My Brother, nor He Who Would Be My Brother-In-Law. Just characters. Who may look a little like them… 

Also, your Majesty? I lied. If you allowed me to come and stay home, and you so desired, I promise that I will not print nor circulate such things. I may still write them, because I can’t stop writing any more than I can stop breathing, but … for the chance of seeing Vasya again and talking to him, I would stop printing them. That much I can do.

Begging your pardon,

Your most humble and even more remorseful servant,

_Alexander Stanjinski_

He put that aside and started on his second letter.

_Dear Cousin Mark,_

__

__

I hope you are well. I am fine! 

I read your letter of the 23rd, as well as the enclosed document and… I have written to His Majesty, asking him to forgive me. You are right, Vasya and I should make peace. 

When I received your letter, I admit to wanting to write to Vasya, asking him to defect and come to the North with Grisha. There is space here for them, and the people are nice and mostly mind their own business. No one would care about two defectors from the Capital, and they would be safe from war and palace intrigues.

But then I read the story you sent and I could see that they are happy together where they are. I especially liked the fantastical elements, like how they were cooking their own meals, and have no servants. 

I hope you have been right all these years and that His Majesty forgives me, because otherwise I will write to Vasya and use his network to come to the south and visit you. And I don’t want to do that – I don’t know what to write to him. 

I do miss him, though, and I will never forgive myself if I am already late.

In fact, I was so upset at the thought, that I had to find refuge in my favourite activity. I told myself, these are characters, and I was writing about them, not my brother and his husband. Mark? Romances suit me much better than political commentary through the means of erotic fiction.

Although, I can’t always help myself completely. 

I also sent a copy to His Majesty – he needs to know that I have not changed, because I don’t want him to forgive me and then think me a hypocrite. 

The second copy that I enclose in my letter is for the two Young Ladies whose work was so inspiring to me. It is clearly marked “For the Young Ladies”, because that is the version that is suitable for young persons. The other is for adults only (and I took the additional precaution of adding an explicit frontispiece, in case you miss the Big Bold Letters on the cover that state “For Adults Only”).

I hope you will forward it to them, since I do not know who they are and where they live, and give them my compliments and wishes that they continue on their chosen path. The writing could be better, but I am confident that the more they practice, the better they will become. 

Looking forward to your answer, and wishing you well while eagerly waiting for His Majesty’s pardon. 

_Your dear cousin Sasha_

__He put that aside too. “So, one copy with each letter, one for our library, and the rest to our publisher.” He moved the portable writing desk aside. “And now, we can fuck! Tomorrow morning, we leave for the borders! Let’s hope I get pardoned. I really don’t know what to write to my brother.”_ _

__“You could say that you are sorry,” Masha said._ _

__“That you take back all the insults and accusations,” Karl told him._ _

__“That you don’t think they are imperial dogs,” Martin added._ _

__“And that you are willing to listen to him,” Nadya finally said._ _

__He huffed. “Did someone write that down? What was the first one?”_ _

__Martin groaned. “Let’s fuck. We’ll write your apology to your brother tomorrow, as we travel towards the borders.”_ _

__“You will? Thank you!” He felt his eyes fill with tears. “Oh, thank you,” he sniffled._ _

__Masha shifted and pushed him on the bed. “Fuck now, cry later.”_ _


	73. Chapter 73

1st of Harvester

Elik hugged each and every one of the Guards. “I wish all of you could come with me,” he told them when he was finished. 

“Perhaps next time,” Filon said. 

“Oh, yes, that would be so wonderful,” Leonid smiled. 

“Next time, we should go East,” Roman said. 

“Or North,” Stepan whispered. 

“Oh, yes, North,” Elik sighed. “I heard it is dreadfully cold up there, but also frightfully beautiful. I would love to see the North.”

“I vote for the East,” Vasya smiled. “And now, Sire, it is time to go.”

“Oh, yes!” He grinned. “I am off to meet my husband. And punch him!”

“Good luck,” the Guards sang to him. 

“Keep it down, keep it down,” he laughed. “His Majesty,” he bowed to Lieutenant Ilin, “is unwell and needs peace and quiet.”

“And romances,” Lieutenant Ilin said, sighing softly. “You have such a wonderful library, Sire, I can’t wait to start reading.”

“Romances,” Vasya smiled with disbelief. “Why not philosophy, or history? Good, theoretical books to develop strong, inquisitive minds like yours. Or books about the world?”

They all shook their heads.

“Don’t you know, Captain?” Maxim smiled. “Love is Wonderful, so we want to read about that.”

“Ah, yes.” Vasya laughed. “How right you are. What if you wrote an essay on love as a power of the universe for me to read when I come back?”

“Is that part of our review?” Roman sighed. “I’m not good at essays.”

“You may sing a song about love, Roman,” Elik told him. “I hope that is acceptable, Captain?”

“Yes, Private Alexandrov. Now, can we go?”

“Good luck,” the Guards sang again. 

Elik waved at them as he climbed up the stairs from the kitchen. Ah, why did he feel such joy at the thought of leaving Ivanhof? Because he was going to get an explanation from his husband, that was why.

Ah, love was not wonderful. Love was pain! And suffering. 

He would definitely punch his husband when he saw him. “Captain?”

“Yes, Sire?”

Elik made a noise. “I’m a private now, you can’t call me Sire. Call me by my name. My new fake name, not my real one.”

“Yes, Demyan?”

“What if my husband writes to me while we are traveling? How will I get his letters?”

He heard Maxim and Valery grin behind him.

“I have sent word ahead at the changing posts last night. Letters for you, or for me, will be diverted to us, and if, by chance, we miss one, they will be forwarded to us.”

“Ah.” Of course, Vasya had everything under control. Why was he worrying? 

“Captain?” he asked as he mounted his horse.

“Yes, Demyan?”

“I am glad we are leaving. I really need to talk to him.”

“Understandable.”

“I still love him,” he sighed. “When Mark mentioned the Ambassador of the Bright Empire last night, I got so mad. I don’t want that Princess to take my place.”

“She will not, Sire.”

“Demyan.”

Vasya sighed. “Demyan.”

“Yes, Captain?”

Vasya laughed, looking resigned to the fact that Elik would not stop calling him Captain. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

“Yes, Captain.” He spurred his horse on. “I love this!”

&*&*

Mark looked at the courtiers that had gathered in the garden and were waiting for him full of curiosity.

“It is a lovely day for having tea outside,” Princess Olga said haughtily, “but we have other things to do.”

“I know, but I thought this you would enjoy. Master Dijkstra?”

The painter took his usual seat by the fountain.

“What is the meaning of this?” Nathalia asked him. 

He nodded, and the Guards, led by Lieutenant Gavrilov in His Majesty’s diamond dress, stepped out of the palace into the garden. While Lieutenant Gavrilov took Maxim’s place by the fountain, the others moved here and there, stripping as they did. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Nathalia asked again. “His Majesty is wounded, we cannot…. He wouldn’t…” she cried. 

Mark nodded. “Yes, ordinarily we wouldn’t,” he said, sighing deeply. “But this,” he gestured towards Master Dijkstra, who had began painting, “This painting was His Majesty’s dream. His Majesty’s there.” He sighed again. “I am certain that His Majesty here would want this to…” he stopped, trying to look overwhelmed by emotion. 

Ekaterina nodded. “Remember with what joy he had decided to have this painted?” she cried out, her voice trembling. 

Several of the Ladies nodded. Nathalia hid her face behind her fan. 

“When His Majesty gets well, for he must get well, he will want to continue with this,” she sniffled.

“So, we will surprise him with the painting?” Princess Xenia asked.

“Yes,” Mark agreed.

“But where is Maxim?” Count Efremov asked him. 

Ekaterina looked at him.

“Ah, Maxim,” he sighed. “He is the Squire of the Knight in the Service of Love.”

“Excuse me?” Vassily asked him. “We have no Knights in the army.”

“No, but maybe we should,” he smirked. 

“Mark,” Pavel whined, “Tell us. What happened to Maxim?”

He waited until all the courtiers in the garden had fallen completely silent and eager to hear him. “Private Stovin currently serves as the military escort of Count Lesnev, who has taken a leave of absence in order to visit his husband.”

Ekaterina was the first to sigh, but was not the only one. 

Vassily stared at him. “He what?”

He nodded, sighing. “He came to me last night, almost in tears, and begged me to grant him leave to go see his husband, and nurse him to health, if need be.”

“You should have seen him,” Ekaterina added. “We were watching over his poor, sweet Majesty, lying in his bed of pain and suffering, when His Excellency came in, knelt in front of us, and asked Mark for permission to leave.”

“He knelt? Who does that?” Vassily asked amidst all the sighing.

Mavra glared at him over her fan. “It’s tradition in our family. We keep the Old Ways.” She looked at Mark, sighing. “He would be such a wonderful Head of the Main Branch. Sasha, though….” She grimaced. 

Had Mavra decided that since she would like Vasya from then on, she would now not like Sasha? Oh, no, just as Vasya and his cousins reconciled, he’d have to fight to get them to accept Sasha?

“This is better than a romance,” Princess Olga sighed. “But Knight in the Service of Love is a very long name. We need a better one.”

“Knight of Love?”

“We already have a Prince of Love,” one of the Guards said. “But he is now severely wounded,” he added, and they all sighed miserably. 

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You call His Majesty ‘Prince of Love’?”

“Yes, is he not? He’d do anything for love,” a really tall Guard sighed. 

“And he’s as devoted to his husband as our Captain,” another Guard said. 

“Perhaps we should have a contest,” Agafia grinned. “Who is more devoted? The Prince or the Knight of Love?”

Lieutenant Gavrilov turned and looked at her sternly. “A Knight never competes against his Prince, but is his loyal and devoted servant. How dare you even suggest such a thing?” He shuddered. 

Mark stared at him. He did not expect that outburst from him, but from one of the Guards. A second later, they did start protesting that their Captain would never, ever, ever, ever compete or do anything against His Majesty. 

“Please,” he said, when he realized that they wouldn’t stop. 

“I apologize for suggesting it,” Agafia said, embarrassed. 

“Apology accepted,” the Guards and Lieutenant Gavrilov told her. 

“So, will we call him The Knight of Love from now on?”

“Hm….” Mavra frowned. “A knight is below a count in rank.”

“Indeed.”

“Yes.”

“Cousin Mavra is right.”

The Stanjinskis in the garden all agreed with her. He had been right; getting her to accept Vasya, would mean getting everyone in that family to accept Vasya. With Sasha away, she truly was the Head of the Family. 

Ekaterina stood up. “I know, I know,” she grinned, clapping her hands. “We must all decide on titles for everyone. For, if this is to be the Court of the Prince of Love, we should all have a new title for it. I would be… the Fun-loving Duchess.”

Princess Xenia stood up. “What a delightful idea. When His Majesty gets well, we will show him our support, even if it is a little weird to not take lovers.”

“But even so, aren’t we all loyal to our partners?” Ekaterina asked them all. “A bedmate taken for pleasure cannot compare to the devotion to our One and Only Spouse.”

Nathalia stood up as well. “That is true.” She looked at Vassily and smiled at him sweetly, before curtsying to him gracefully. 

“Ah, I hope His Majesty gets well,” Princess Olga sighed. “I want theatre.”

“And opera.”

“And costume balls.”

Ekaterina made a strange noise. 

“What is it?” Agafia asked her. 

“Nothing, I just remembered something I had read.”

Mark looked at her. She wouldn’t dare, would she?

“A romance?” Natasha asked her curiously. “Oh, how I love romances.” She suddenly stood up. “Mark, Ekaterina. Do you think if I had married Vasya, he would have demanded I take no other lovers and only share my bed with him?”

They both nodded. 

She shuddered. “Then, praise be to Luck that saved me from such a dreadful fate!”

Her friends beside her nodded. “Although, he is dreadfully handsome,” one of them whispered. 

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be that awful sharing your bed only with him,” another said.

“Enough. You must all stop talking about it,” she shouted at them and started crying. “It’s been years.”

Mavra ran to her and hugged her. Ekaterina did the same. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t marry him,” she told her. “He’s weird.”

“And probably boring,” Mavra added. 

“And he still likes big dogs,” he said.

Ekaterina nodded.

“How big?” Natasha asked.

“This big,” he replied, pointing to his hip. “That go up to here when they stand,” he pointed at his chest.

Natasha shuddered. “No, I hate big dogs. They are scary. Praise be to Luck! She saved me!”

Nathalia shuddered as well. “Big dogs are such a pain.” 

Vassily agreed with her with a nod. 

“We are getting distracted,” Mark told them. “I think Ekaterina had a good idea. Let’s all give ourselves new titles, fitting for His Majesty’s Court of Love.” He smiled. “Ladies, Gentlemen, why don’t you think about it?” He turned to the Ministers. “And we should go back to work.”

“Can’t we work here?” Pavel asked him. 

He looked at them. Vassily and Nathalia were holding hands, Adam and Agafia were looking at the Guards with interest, Dima looked at the cakes at the table in front of him with longing, while Pavel was really focused on a Guard that was very gifted by Nature. Not as gifted as His Majesty, but still, generously gifted. “Yes,” he said, smiling as he sat down. “Let’s work here today.”

What he wanted to discuss with them could wait for a day. It was not urgent after all. 

He opened his folder and started reading the report of everything that had happened the day before. He could have learned everything more quickly if he had asked Vasya, but he really hadn’t been able to do it. His cousin had still looked haggard and tired, although the fire in his eyes and the passion in his voice were finally back. How could he trouble him with work, when he’d just had him back? 

He smiled, thinking of the other night. How quietly Vasya had looked around Elik’s bedroom for blankets and sheets for the tent they’d made. He had to write that to Nikolaj too; he really and still was their little Vasya at heart, hiding his playful intentions behind a serious expression, always ready to show them a new game, and guide them to a hiding place that no one else knew. 

But, goodness, these reports were long and boring. He picked up the copy of Grisha’s letter to the men and read it. How like Grisha – short and to the point. And… He stood up, grinning. “Ladies, Gentlemen, His Majesty has pardoned Sasha! Sasha is coming back.”

Ekaterina looked at him with shock. Why hadn’t Vasya told them that? He also was curious, but he didn’t care that much. Sasha was coming back. 

All the courtiers started murmuring. Only Mavra and Dima groaned. “Oh fuck,” they both said at the same time.

“Afraid you’ll lose your place as Head of House?” Natasha teased her.

Everyone stopped talking and stared at Mavra. 

“My position, I would gladly trade it with anyone but Sasha. As much as it pains me to admit this, I think Cousin Vasya would have been a wonderful Head of the Main Branch. Yes, he is weird, he has taken no lovers,” she shivered, “and I bet that he still spends his free time reading about ancient history and philosophy and talking about them to anyone who can’t escape him.”

Several of the Stanjinskis, but also Ekaterina, Adam, and he nodded their head at that. Perhaps it was a good thing Vasya had not given the Love is Wonderful lecture the day before! He had grown to enjoy Vasya’s analyses of current affairs and his use of historical examples, as well as not wonder much at all the strange ideas Grisha and he were developing on their spare time (their concept of peace and freedom was one he didn’t understand at all), but others would not be as kind. Yet. The courtiers would grow used to them – and their weird ideas. 

“But, despite all that, he is better than Sasha,” she cried out. “You think it was scandalous how Sasha left? Wait till he comes back,” Mavra said ominously. “No, I will speak of this no more. You will all find out soon!” she finished in an even darker note. “Oh, the shame. Oh, the horror,” she gasped as she collapsed in her chair.

“Writing … stuff is not that bad,” Mark grinned.

“If only writing … stuff was the problem,” Dima whispered. “Mark, really, stop it. can’t you see this is making her uncomfortable?” he told him as he ran to her side and offered her some water.

“No, no water. It is for these occasions that the Fortifying Elixir was created. Ah, Cousin Vasya,” she started crying, “why did you take it with you?”

Mark shivered. What did Mavra know that he didn’t? Should he dig deeper and find out or should he let sleeping dogs lie until they woke up? He looked at Ekaterina first, and then Filon and Artyom. 

She shrugged a little, but they shook their heads. He’d let the dogs lie, then. 

“I think he hides another flask of that Fortifying Elixir in his office,” one of Vasya’s Quartermasters said suddenly, startling them. 

Where had he been? How come he hadn’t noticed him? Vasya was training all his Intelligence Team to be as sneaky as he was. Fuck, he had to steal Vasya back from His Majesty when he came back. He wanted his team to be just as sneaky! 

“Please, look if there is one,” Mark said, and nodded, allowing him to leave. If whatever Mavra was hiding was that dreadful, he’d need a bit of that elixir himself! If Mavra didn’t finish it all! 

&*&*

Katya and Irina frowned after they had finished all the letters that the Major had sent them. “What do you think that means?” Katya asked her.

“I don’t know. They are all replies to my letter, but they are all a bit different.”

“You mean, they are drafts? Like when I write my essays, and I am trying to find the right words?”

They looked over all the letters again. “Perhaps. But why did he send them?”

“Perhaps he made a mistake,” Katya said.

“He wouldn’t make mistakes,” Irina told her. 

“His secretary, then?”

They nodded, agreeing that it must have been so. 

Katya looked at her with bright eyes. “Oh, what Luck for us, Irina.”

“Excuse me?”

“We have so much material to work now,” she told her. She hugged her and then picked up one of the letters. “Here. He not only cooks, but he also cleans and he does the laundry. And believe me, he cleans Very Well.”

Irina gasped, realising what Katya meant. “You are so right! We can use all these details for the stories!”

“Yes. Did you notice that in these drafts he wrote how delighted he was with the story we sent him? We have to send him more.”

Irina went over the letters again. “Katya, I have an idea. What if we wrote a story of how they met?” She picked up the one with the really long explanation that was a bit boring, and showed it to Katya. “Doesn’t he sound like a teacher in this one?”

“Oh, yes! And … I know, I know! He’s a teacher who has opened a school educating young Ladies full of good qualities!”

Irina shivered. “Like us! We could put ourselves somewhere in the story, just being there all quiet and attentive!”

“Yes, we could! Oh, Irina, he makes so many good points. We have to write a story that will have all of them as he educates the young Ladies.”

Irina nodded, smiling. “It was a long read,” she told her, “but it also made me think. We have to write this story for all the young ladies that we know! They must also think about what makes a wife a wife, and what a husband a husband.”

Katya nodded. “I liked the term ‘partner’. I don’t want a Husband, Irina. I want a Partner. And I want to be a Partner too.”

“Katya, you are so right! I will write to my brother! I don’t want to be a Husband anymore! I want to be a Partner.” And she would tell Eli that he was her brother first, and not a wife. No, Eli was her brother, and her king, and she loved him so much! 

They hugged each other. “What a splendid idea, Katya. Do you think he will mind if we use his words in our story?”

Katya looked up. “We should ask his permission first, shouldn’t we?”

“You are right, we will.” She would write to him right after she wrote to Eli. 

Katya smiled. “But, to go back to our story. Major Grigori has to be there too. But as what?”

Irina thought about it for a few moments. He shouldn’t be another teacher, that would be boring. “I think I got it,” she said. “he will be the dashing Major who just moved to the village because he got transferred.”

“And they meet at the village council meeting!”

“Yes! At first, though, they don’t like each other, because the Major doesn’t believe in the education of young ladies.”

“But he does,” Katya protested. “He’s a great teacher.”

“It’s a story, it doesn’t have to be real,” she explained.

Katya stared at her. “But, if they don’t like each other, how will they become… you know…” She smiled brightly. “Partners!”

Hm, yes, Katya was right.

“I know! They argue about the education of young ladies, and the teacher-major is so passionate about it, that the dashing major changes his mind about it and then… And then….” She leaned close. “They kiss?” she whispered to Irina.

“From the first argument?”

“Hm… if we want the story to be short, then yes, but if we want a longer story then they must kiss later.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“And they were so wonderful dancing together at the big wedding feast, so it would be nice to have a scene where they dance.”

“I know! Katya, you are brilliant! They don’t kiss after the first argument, but the teacher-major is also fascinated by the dashing major, so he invites him to the next feast. There, they dance and at the end of the dance, they kiss.”

“Irina, you are brilliant!” She stood up. “I’m going to bring my papers. We must write the plot now!”

She nodded. Oh, this would be such a great story! And it would be educational too! Truly, the majors were so inspiring! 

Katya stopped suddenly. “No, we can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because they kiss after a dance in Lady Olga’s story. We have to do something different.”

“Oh, yes. You are so right.”

Katya ran back to her. “I know. What if they go to the dance, and then, even though they are fascinated with each other, they argue again about the education of the young ladies?”

“And the teacher-major invites him to the school, so he can see for himself how good it is for young ladies to be educated?”

“Yes, and the dashing major goes and ends up teaching as well, because, really, Irina, story or not, Major Grigori is such an amazing teacher! We can use my notes for that part of the story, and we must have him teaching.”

“Hm, why not, if you say that.” And that would mean, more scenes with the dashing major! “And the teacher-major is so impressed that…”

“They kiss?”

“No, he kisses him! And when he sees that the dashing major does not respond, he regrets it and apologizes a lot but the truth is….”

“The dashing major was shocked that his feelings were returned. So, when the teacher-major apologises and looks miserable, the dashing major kisses him.”

Irina nodded. “And then they both kiss.”

“Yes. That is better!”

Yes, it really was! She was getting all tingly just thinking about it!

&*&*

As much as he tried, he could not bite back his whimper when the carriage finally stopped at the town where the army had stopped for lunch. “Don’t say it,” he warned the wolf cubs. “I know I was stupid. I don’t need reminders.”

Evgeni and Carel smiled at him. Symeon looked at him miserably.

“That aside, I am fine,” he reassured him as Evgeni helped him get up from where he was lying. Oh, he was stupid for going on this journey when he was clearly still unwell, but how he hoped that Luck had brought him where he had to be. His Majesty had to believe them that Vasya and the others were no traitors.

Would His Majesty disband the Reds after this? This was the second time they mutinied in a year. He sighed. 

“Sorry, Sir,” Evgeni whispered.

“No, that’s not it, Evgeni.”

Mir opened the carriage door and helped him step down. He looked at Yulian rushing to report that they were there. 

“Sir, Sir,” Longin shouted as he ran back with Yulian a few minutes later. 

“Good to see you,” he said as they started walking across the square. "And…” he looked around, at all the soldiers who had stopped and were looking at him. “No resistance?”

Longin grinned. “None at all. The Mayor himself was waiting for us at the town’s main road and offered His Majesty the key to the town, as well as made him an honorary citizen.”

“Hm.”

“Strange, right? Also,” Longin sighed tiredly. “His Majesty really wanted you to join him and he’s been delaying us so you could catch up.”

Major Kamenski hurried towards him. “Bitoulin and I tried to persuade him that you needed to go home, but he wouldn’t listen,” he said as he approached. “Sorry for dragging you here,” he said as he offered him his hand, “and I’m even sorrier that I cannot let you talk to your men more now. He really wants to see you.”

He smiled. “Then, we shouldn’t keep His Majesty waiting. Symeon, Carel, Evgeni, with me.”

Yulian, Mir, and Longin also followed him.

“How are things here? Everyone happy to be serving under him? No more thoughts of being sick?”

“No, we are all in great health,” Major Kamenski smiled, “And looking forward to seeing the Capital. I visited it once when I was younger,” he said. “It is a beautiful city. But very crowded, and the river running through it is dirty.” He grimaced. “Here we are,” he said as two guards opened the door of a mansion overlooking the central square.

“The Mayor’s house?”

“Even better,” Longin laughed, “The Brewer’s. He’s the richest man here, so he has the best house. You should try his beer. It is good.”

“Maybe another time.”

Major Kamenski smiled. “When you decide to try it, I hope you allow me to join you.”

“Of course.”

Two soldiers saluted them as they opened the door to a large dining room. “His Excell…” one started saying.

His Majesty stood up. “Lesnev,” he grinned and hurried across the room to greet him. “I am so honoured that you came to meet me,” he said, as if he hadn’t ordered him to go there. 

“Your Majesty,” he said and bowed as much as he could, and trying not to let his pain show.

“No need for ceremony around me,” His Majesty said as he made to hug him.

“Your Majesty,” Evgeni and Carel both shouted and came between them.

“Sir is still hurt,” Carel glared.

“And slowly recovering.”

“Oh, yes.” He looked genuinely sorry. “Come, join me. Tell me, may I call you Grisha?”

He snorted. “You were calling me Grisha at the hospital, and that is my name, Sire.”

“Oh, yes,” he laughed, obviously embarrassed. He led him to the table and made him sit to his right. “We are so happy you joined Us.”

“I am also glad for that,” he smiled. “Sire, there is news from the Capital that you must hear. Now. Symeon.”

With a nod, Symeon stepped forward and gave them all his report. 

His Majesty listened to it with first a blank expression, but as Symeon continued, he started smiling. When Symeon finished, he broke into laugher. “A formal protest and request? Do you have a copy of it?”  
Grigori was surprised. He hadn’t expected His Majesty to be in such a good mood that even news of a mutiny at the Capital (for his sake, of all things!) would make him laugh like that.

Stunned, Symeon took one out and brought it to His Majesty.

He read it quickly, still laughing. “I think I made Vasya mad,” he whispered, grinning. He suddenly grew serious and turned towards Major Kamenski and his generals, who were all sitting at the table further down from him. “You did ask me to apologize in public and I didn’t. I should have done this sooner.” He stood up. “This afternoon, I will write a full report of my misdeed, admitting my guilt for ordering an unjust punishment to an officer who went beyond his duty, and I will write there, signed and sealed by my own personal stamp for the archives, that I was wrong and I ask the forgiveness of my men. But first,” he turned towards Grisha, “Please, once more accept my apology for my behaviour.”

Grisha nodded. “That was accepted days ago, but I accept it again.”

“And do you forgive me?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Gentlemen,” he continued, “I hope you can see that my repentance is true and genuine. Please, persuade the troops to accept my apology. I hate writing reports and essays.General Loviljin, maybe you can help me by giving me a few examples from history to use in my essay?”

“Of course, Sire,” he grinned.

“Great. Now that this is over, do you have any other news for Us?”

Symeon took a few letters and gave them to Count Bitoulin. “I was told you must read them immediately, Sir.”

He nodded, opened them, and started frowning. “Sir? I have some news. May I share them?”

His Majesty nodded.

Count Bitoulin stood up. “Gentlemen, what I will tell you must not leave this room.”

Grigori nodded at the same time as everyone else. 

“Lesnev’s team has apprehended an assassin sent by Francis at Ivanhof, and has learned of at least one more suspect operating in the Capital. His Majesty there is safe, praise be to Luck, however, the fact that Francis’ men are now at the Capital and Ivanhof itself is a cause of grave concern. Lesnev hopes that he was successful in turning him into an informant for us.”

Grigori shivered. Francis’ men were there already. At least this arrest could serve as proof of Vasya’s loyalty.

His Majesty paled. “I should have listened to you immediately. I am so sorry, Grisha. Does it say in the report anything about My Most Precious?”

“The assassin was apprehended before he had a chance to attack His Majesty, but His Majesty knows of it and he is not very pleased.” Count Bitoulin put down one of the letters. “This is a copy of the assassin’s interrogation.”

His Majesty closed his eyes for a few moments. “Be quiet,” he told everyone, even though no one had spoken. When he looked at them again, he looked like a man who was waking up after his worst nightmare, still pale and wild-eyed. “Gentlemen, if my calculations are correct, Lesnev should be here in two or three days, assuming that he obeyed me. Since Fredrik is not taking this war seriously, why should I? Gentlemen,” he turned to his generals, “We will stay here until Lesnev arrives. The further we move, the further he will delay in forming this team. If he does come up here.” He sighed deeply as he turned to Grigori. “What do you think? He will continue making everyone sign protests there, or come here?”

It all depended on so many things. “It is my honest and professional opinion that Lesnev will put His Majesty’s safety first and above any demands for justice on my behalf.” He smiled. “Vasya would die for him. Do you think he will put me above his duty? No,” he said as emphatically and forcefully as he could. “But will he come here?” 

He frowned. Had they not received news of Vasya’s team? Obviously not. And why would they? He himself had sent Stafic to meet Vasya’s team at Ystrina, instead of letting him continue to His Majesty’s camp. Oh, what a mess. 

Honesty! He had to trust that honesty was the right thing, rather than lies and excuses and obfuscations. “Sire, two days ago, I received one of my men from the Capital who came in order to find out whether you had authorized my plan and whether I was at Ustvela. When he found out that you had authorized the plan but you were waiting for Vasya to come here and form a team, he informed me that Vasya had already sent a team. I don’t know if this has been authorized by His Majesty there or not, and I forgot to ask, since at the time, it was more pressing to inform him of the cover story I had prepared for my team, and make sure he would meet the team as quickly as possible together with my Ustvelan agent. I am sorry.”

“I see.” He closed his eyes and stayed motionless. 

After a few minutes, Carel actually made a gesture, asking them if they thought he’d fallen asleep, and everyone smiled. 

With a tired, deep sigh, His Majesty suddenly looked at them. “We are staying here until the situation at the Capital is resolved. Gentlemen, this time, I am unwell.” He stood up. “If you excuse me, I need to get some fresh air.” With a nod at them, he strode out of the dining room.

They all stared at each other. 

“Another first,” Grigori muttered. 

Count Bitoulin nodded. “Fuck, Grisha, if someone kills His One and Only, we Will lose this war.”

General Loviljin frowned. “I can’t think of a historical precedence for this.”

General Mrishsnan stared at Grigori. “Can you… I don’t know… talk to him?”

“I can try, if he wants to ta…”

Longin came back into the dining room. “Sir, His Majesty requests your presence.”

He stood up.

“Good luck,” everyone told him.

“Alone,” Longin added the moment Carel and Evgeni started following him. “He’s been strange all week,” Longin said once they had left the room.

“Strange how?”

“Every morning, we find charred remains of paper in his room. All with the imperial emblem on top.” Longin sighed. “This is the first time he actually burns the drafts of his letters.”

They arrived in front of a closed door guarded by Isak. 

“And he doesn’t joke as much. He usually does, but he’s been brooding most of the time, or studying maps.”

They both looked at him seriously. “Good luck, Sir,” Isak said as he opened the door to an enclosed garden. 

For a moment, Grigori stood still and smelled the herbs and the roses. How was their garden, he wondered? Had Vasya even managed to go home all these days? Leaving the thought aside, he went to His Majesty. He was sitting on a wooden bench under the shade of apple trees. “Sire?”

He patted the seat next to him and smiled. “You may call me Nikolaj again, Grisha.”

“Sire?”

“I have been thinking a lot these days,” he told him once he sat down. “If all goes well, and Luck is with us, you and your husband will come to court, right?”

“Yes?” He hadn’t thought that far. Fuck, it had taken him weeks to realise that they had more money and land now than ever before thanks to Their Majesties’ generosity. He hadn’t even thought about being part of the court because of their titles. 

His Majesty looked at him seriously. “It won’t be Lesnev coming to court, Grisha, but Vasya. He may not have the name anymore, but he is still old duke Pavel’s son, and the friend and playmate I had since I was four.” He grinned. “In fact, he’s more than that, and you know it better than I do. He’s my chosen brother’s chosen little brother, and these days have made me realise that it is not possible to separate Vasya from Lesnev, nor do I want to. Nor is it possible to separate you from my friend’s husband, the one who managed to steal our Vasya away from us, and make him happy.” He smiled softly. “I want you to call me Nikolaj again.”

“I see.” He did, and yet he didn’t. Did this mean that they could reveal that His Majesty was… no, it couldn’t mean that. 

He sighed. “I wouldn’t put it past Vasya to have sent that team without authorization, but I also wouldn’t put it past Elik to have authorized it, instead of waiting for my command. He has a drive to live that is…” He smiled. “I don’t know the right word for it. But it is strong, and fierce. I have seen him fight twice, you know. Once, at Kiskun, and one at Jedlowa. Both times, that was what had struck me: his determination and his will to live, and to keep fighting, even when the odds were against him. Grisha, how could I have let him down so much? I do love him yet…..”

Grisha took a deep breath. He didn’t know the answer to that. But he knew what Vasya would do. “Why don’t you tell me everything? From the start.”

“You know everything.”

“I do,” he told him, holding his gaze, “But I also know that, when I walked into your office ten days ago or so, you were already not willing to listen to me. Even before I opened my mouth, I knew my chances of getting the plan authorized were minimal. And the day after, you… with all due respect, you lost all perspective, Sire, and instead of dealing with the problem at hand, you focused on something that had happened months ago. So, will you tell me what happened? From the beginning?” 

Nikolaj studied him. He stood up and so did Grigori. “I need to look at the daily reports, just so I know I haven’t missed anything. Besides,” he snorted, “thanks to our little Vasya, I also need to write an essay on repentance for the troops. We had one rule, Mark, Ekaterina, and I: we were not allowed to make Vasya sad. Perhaps that rule should have been, never make Vasya mad. Your husband is a dangerous person.”

“If he were, the army would not be signing protest letters, Sire.”

“That is true. Go get some rest, Grisha. I will see you at dinner. Or perhaps earlier. I would like someone to check my composition for grammar and syntax errors,” he grinned at him. “Tomorrow, I will have a report for you too, starting from the beginning.”

He bowed at him and followed him back inside. Ah, fuck! How would he do this without Vasya? How he hoped that, by some miracle or other, Vasya would be on his way here now! 

He took a deep breath. That was the next day’s problem, how he would deal with. For now, he needed lunch. He had seen a potato dish on the table he hadn’t seen before!

He had barely walked into the dining room when the questions started.

“Well?” 

“What happened?”

“Did you talk to him?”

“Are we really stopping here?”

He sat down. “Yes, we are stopping for now.”

“But you said it yourself, we should be on the move now.”

He nodded. 

The Generals leaned close and discussed something for a few minutes, before turning to look at Count Bitoulin. “What if we let His Majesty rest and recover here from his illness while we march on?” General Davin asked. 

General Loviljin nodded. “It has happened before.”

“And if there is no resistance ahead, it doesn’t matter if he’s not with us,” General Mrishsnan said. 

Grigori took a bite of the potato salad that had been waiting patiently for him. “Oh, pickled cucubers,” he grinned.

Count Bitoulin grinned. “Yes. What do you think, Grisha?”

“Give him a day.” He looked at them seriously. “He’s really unsettled. He mentioned things he shouldn’t be mentioning.”

Everyone looked at him strangely. 

“Like what?” General Mrishsnan finally asked. 

He shook his head. 

“Why don’t you let the man eat?” Major Kamenski suddenly said loudly. “Did you try the little sausages yet? I want to get the recipe for my wife.”

“No.” He poked around with his fork until he found one and tried it. “Oh, yes, I should get it too,” he grinned.

General Mrishsnan looked at him. “Yes, and after eating, get some rest.”

He grinned. He would need it, especially if he were to correct His Majesty’s composition in the afternoon. He’d need all his strength for that!

&*&*

Nikolaj looked at Elik’s letter. He opened it again and re-read it. 

_Ivanhof, 21st of Fire Month,_

_My Heart, My Love, My Husband,_

_I hope you are well. I am well, and still trying to remember where everything is here. It is so strange to be home after all these months. It is so strange that you are not here. My true home is your arms, not your palace._

_I received your letter from the 11th of his month and… I have also been thinking about Luck, even more so after what has happened these days._

_We did offer incense for your success at the Shrine of Ancestral Honour as soon as we arrived to the Capital. We all hope that Luck will be with you._

_Regarding your question about those riders you allowed to escape at Kiskun. I do know their names, but I will disappoint you; neither can fight under your command. One because he’s dead, and the other because he’s not allowed to even visit you at the battlefield. Yet, I know I speak for Radu too, when I say, Thank You, Your Majesty, for allowing us to cross to safety._

_I would gladly have fought for you, though, if you had let me. But since you prefer that I fight for our country together with the Council, I will do that._

_As always, I remain your most devoted and loyal Husband and subject,_

_Your Elik_

He sighed. How could he have thought that he could manage if he lost his Most Precious and Perfect? 

He glanced at the document with the request for his public apology. “Ah, Vasya, ever so polite, even when you protest,” he sighed. He hated writing essays. He would have given money to everyone in the army happily instead of writing this. At least Vaysa had been kind enough to structure his document for him. 

One thing at the time. Essay first, reading it out to the troops after he received their signatures later, waiting for news from the Capital even later. Oh, and writing his report for Grisha. Hm, would Grisha be happy with an oral presentation?

&*&*

Elik laughed, delighted. Vasya must have learned the Quhjani way of riding when they were at Jedlowa. How else could he explain that they had stopped only when nature called? They had even eaten while riding. How he had missed this!

“Captain?” he shouted. He had noticed that, for the last half hour or so, Vasya had slowed down his horse, so had they, and by that moment, their horses were practically walking. Surely, they were approaching wherever they would stop for the night.

“Yes, Demyan?”

“Where will we spend the night? Outdoors?” How wonderful that would be! Although, they had nothing for taking shelter, or even blankets. Would they dig holes in the ground and sleep there? It was already past sunset – would they do that in the middle of the night? 

“No, our palace awaits us.”

He frowned. Where? They had been riding parallel to the main roads, and they had only encountered a few villages on their way, and some farmsteads. 

Vasya turned his horse into a small pathway that led into a thicket, and they all followed him.

“I don’t see a palace,” he said. 

“Would you really want a palace?” Maxim asked him. 

“No.”

“Do you trust the Captain so little, then?” Valery asked him. 

“No. I am curious,” he told them loudly and grinning. “And impatient!”

They laughed. “I am also curious,” Andrik said. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we end up sleeping in holes in the ground,” Vadim laughed. “There was a full moon last night, so tonight is just as bright. We can easily dig with its light.”

They all looked up for a moment. “It really will be a bright night,” Elik smiled. 

“And you can all admire it from the garden, Gentlemen,” Vasya told them as the path led them out of the trees and into a fenced off plot of land. 

“Look, a farmhouse!” A big, sturdy farmhouse made of dark logs and with small windows in the middle of a large garden with vegetables and herbs. 

“It doesn’t look occupied.”

“Yes, there are no lights anywhere.”

What luck. Or was it? How did Vasya know of this place? Curious, but quiet, he followed Vasya into the garden in front of the house, and from there, around it, where there was a stable with six horses, and space for a lot more.

“Vasya, where are we?” he asked even more curiously as they dismounted and started taking care of their horses.

“It’s Vasya now, Sire?” he laughed.

“Erm… Captain? Sorry? Oh, you know what I mean.”

“I do,” he grinned. “And we are in one of our safehouses, of course.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He looked at him seriously. “Sire, we are in hiding. We will avoid all main roads until we reach His Majesty.”

“And Grisha?”

“First we will go to His Majesty. That is more important.”

Elik felt overwhelmed by some strange emotion. Part of it was guilt, but what else there was, he didn’t know. “But you miss Grisha, and you want to talk to him.”

“I do, but…” He smiled. “I really need to be with him in exactly one month and four days. If we are at His Majesty’s camp in two weeks, then I can stay with you for at least one week, and then go back to find Grisha, wherever he is.”

Ah, that was the sweetest thing he had ever heard. Maxim must have agreed with him, for he too sighed loudly. 

“Seriously, what is going on with all this sighing? It is disconcerting.”

“You have no idea?” Elik asked him, surprised.

“Of course not,” Vasya replied in an affronted manner. 

“It’s nothing, Captain,” Valery grinned. “Just Maxim being Maxim.”

“Ah, alright then.”

Elik grinned. Maxim’s mysteries truly were not to be examined! 

An hour later, their horses had been put in the stable, and they had made themselves at home in the farmhouse. They had brought water from the well, cleaned themselves, prepared food for the next day using the bread someone had left for them, and were in the middle of having their dinner, that again someone had left for them (and had left it a little before they had arrived, judging by how the meat was still quite warm). Ah, this was wonderful.

Or, it would have been, if it weren’t for the sealed letter from his husband, laying there quietly in the middle of the table.

“You should open it,” Vasya told him as soon as they had finished eating. He stood up and started clearing the table. 

“I don’t want to,” he sighed. “What if he writes more excuses and makes me mad?”

“Wouldn’t you rather know what he writes?” Jan asked him softly.

“You are right.” He opened it. “Oh, no, he still writes that he can’t explain a thing. Really,” he caught himself whining. “Oh, they are progressing without any resistance and everyone is actually happy to see them.” He grinned. “They want Ada and Augie instead of that treacherous Fredrik! I am so glad to read that!” He sighed as he read the rest of it.

“What is it?” Maxim asked him with worry in his voice. 

“He asks me to be patient with him because he’s been an idiot.” He looked at where Vasya had started washing up, Andrik next to him with a towel. “Why is he not telling me what is going on? I would listen. I would help him,” he sighed. “Will you make us some lavender tea, if there is any?”

“There is linden tea, and yes, I will make you some,” Vasya said as he continued washing everything they had used. 

He decided not to tell them his husband’s thoughts about the power of widows, or queens loved by their people. Nikolaj was not right; when a queen was loved by her people, she had power, but her power still stemmed from her husband. If the army had tried putting him on the throne on his own, even he, who was so loved by them and the people, would cause a civil war. 

He studied Vasya. And what about him? Had the men listened to him because he was Grisha’s husband, or because they also respected him for himself? No, he would not ask. 

“Vasya?” he asked once he had started making tea while Andrik dried everything and Jan started putting things back in their place. 

“Yes, Elik?”

He smiled, happy that the post-dinner rule still applied, and he wouldn’t need to remind him of it. “Do you think I should be patient with him, if he still refuses to explain himself, when we arrive there?”

“Yes, if you love him.”

“I do,” he sighed. “But how can he share his secrets with Mark and not with me?” He turned to Vasya. “Have you ever kept something from Grisha but shared it with others?”

“I have answered that already. Yes, and,” he grinned, “I too share my secrets with Mark, especially those I can’t share with Grisha.”

He sighed again. 

“Some things are difficult to share with the one you love. Either because you don’t want them to think badly of you, or because you still don’t know them that well.”

“I thought, if you love someone, you share everything,” Maxim said quietly.

“Maybe one day you can, but…” He grinned. “Ah, I’ve already mentioned it the other day… Ah, what was I thinking,” he smiled awkwardly, “and now he’ll find out about it from others.”

“What?” Elik asked him curiously. 

“Mark knows, but I still haven’t told him about the people who propositioned me when I was taking him to Mark’s house.” He reddened. “I didn’t want him to know and worry about it.”

Elik stared at him. What did one say to that? 

Maxim swallowed hard. “I have a question, Sir. You mentioned the other day that no one helped you on your way, so, why didn’t you accept their money? I mean, a body is just meat. It doesn’t matter if you share it with others.”

Elik shivered at Maxim’s quiet tone and his words, and realized that the other Guards also had become uneasy at hearing him. 

Only Vasya didn’t seem taken aback and, instead, smiled gently, as if he agreed with Maxim! “You are right, it doesn’t matter, and it would have made things easier, but… where would I have left Grisha for the thirty minutes or however long it took to do…” He shook his head. “And how could I trust them that they wouldn’t…. ? Even someone as sheltered as I had been had heard stories of what could happen if one met the wrong kind of people. What would have happened to Grisha if anything had happened to me?” 

“Oh,” Maxim said even more quietly. 

“I decided to study people after that,” he told them seriously. “I wanted to know; how do you tell if you can trust someone? How can you tell if someone wants to hurt you even when he looks nice, and how can you tell that someone really wants to help you? And how do you make people trust you?” He smiled. “I am still studying them.”

“And, can you tell?” Valery asked.

“No. Sometimes yes, but most times, you can’t. Take my first commander, for example. If you had seen him on the streets, or at a dinner, or anywhere with people, really, you wouldn’t have been able to tell what he was like on his own with one of his subordinates. And not just with me. With several of us under his command.” He smiled. “But when we figured out that we were not alone, we grouped together and made sure that he couldn’t do anything to anyone.”

Little wonder that The Rule at their parties was no touching without consent. That explained a lot! It probably also explained why he hadn’t seen or heard of any rapes or such insults either at Jedlowa or Oerestand after His Majesty had defeated them. How many of Vasya’s comrades had been insulted by such commanding officers in their youth, and had changed things when they were in command? 

“What happened to him?” Andrik asked.

“He’s dead,” Vasya said simply. 

“Good,” Elik and the others said. 

“Grisha doesn’t know about that either,” he told them. “In fact, only those of us who were affected know about it, so I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell it to anyone. It was our secret then, and it is our secret now. Promise me?”

They nodded. 

“Thank you.”

“But… there is a difference. You kept things from Grisha that you knew would make him worry.” And they were all old stories, but he decided not to ask about that. That was not what concerned him at that moment! “Why is Nikolaj keeping from me the fact that he didn’t authorize Grisha’s plan immediately, and that he unjustly punished the man who tried to keep me safe?”

Jan cleared his throat. “If I were married, and had neglected doing something that could be good for my wife, once I realized it, I would feel very stupid and wouldn’t dare tell her.”

“He does write that he’s been an idiot,” Elik repeated. “These are his exact words: ‘I have been such an idiot this whole week.’”

“That sounds like remorse to me,” Valery told them and they nodded.

“And guilt.”

“And shame.”

“And self-knowledge.”

They looked at Vasya. “What he did was idiotic. It is good that he acknowledges it.”

Elik stood up, sighing. “It is good for him, I guess.” He went and filled the teapot with boiling water. “I’m going outside. The moon is so bright tonight.”

Maxim and Valery stood up and followed him out. 

“He wouldn’t admit that he’s an idiot if he didn’t love you,” Maxim said. 

“I agree.”

“You think so?”

“Of course,” they both replied to him. 

He sighed again. “He does write that he wishes I were there.” 

“Then, isn’t it marvellous that you are going to see him?” Maxim smiled.

“He will be so pleased when you are there.”

“And then, he will explain things to you. It sounds like he wants to, but he doesn’t know how.”

“Yes,” Valery said. “If the Captain can’t tell to his husband those horrible things that happened tο him, when he knows that he has the most devoted and understanding husband of all and he didn’t do anything wrong, how can His Majesty tell you, His One and Only and Most Precious, all the horrible things he did?”

“You are right!” He hugged them. “Maxim, Valery, I am so glad that I am going to see him! But, mark my words! If he doesn’t explain things to me, I will hit him.” He sighed happily at the thought. Yes, he would definitely punch him! 

&*&*

“Sir?”

Elik held himself very still when he heard Maxim’s soft question. It wasn’t difficult to hear him. As cosy as the farmhouse was, it had no rooms, and they were all sleeping (or trying to sleep) in the same area. Only the privy was separated by walls.

“Yes?”

“Did you kill him? Your first commander?”

A soft gasp made him realise that he was not the only one awake and listening. 

“No,” Vasya snorted. “That is against the law, isn’t it?”

“I would have killed anyone who’d have tried to touch me against my will,” Jan whispered. 

“Same here,” Valery said.

“I would have cut his balls off,” Andrik growled. 

“I would have done the same,” Vadim murmured. 

Goodness, no one was asleep! He’d probably be too shocked to do anything, but… “Radu would have killed him for me,” he said just as quietly.

Vasya chuckled. “Should have made more tea,” he muttered. “For the sake of argument, you kill your superior officer. Then what?”

No one spoke for a few moments. 

“Even if the judge agreed that you did it in self-defence, you’d still be sentenced to death,” Maxim finally broke the silence. 

“That’s not fair,” Elik huffed. 

“Fair or not, the law is the law, and one should obey it,” Vasya said.

Of course, he would say that. He sat up and the others mimicked him. “I really think that Bosilik law allows for too many and too harsh sentences. Like for that poor little Anna,” he sighed, and was grateful that Vasya didn’t tell him that he would have to sentence her eventually. He didn’t want to.

“So, what did you do with him?” Valery asked, clearly not wanting to discuss poor Lady Anna’s punishment any more than Vasya. 

“We made sure that none of us would be alone with him. Whenever he called one of us in his office, we always went in a group, left the door open, and we refused to leave our brother alone or close the doors.”

Clever! 

“That’s against regulations,” Andrik said, sounding confused. 

“No, it isn’t. We checked. Even now, I could call one of you in my office, you could bring a comrade in, and there is no regulation that says you can’t do it. You just think you can’t, because the regulation says that a subordinate obeys a superior officer. And if your superior officer specifies he wants to see you alone, you can leave the door open, and there is no regulation against that either. I tell you, we checked!"

“Did you study law at military?” Elik asked him. That was the sort of thinking he’d been taught when he was studying law. 

“No.”

“Hm. So, what happened to him?” Jan asked. 

“For some reason, he got transferred soon after. Colonel Loviljin took over and we’d never had any problems with him. Then, a few months later, we learned that Colonel Matveev was killed in action.” 

“Ah. I’m glad he was killed,” Maxim said.

Vasya made a little sound of assent. “Anyway, all that happened many, many years ago. It’s just a story now, so should we try getting some sleep so we can start early tomorrow?”

“I still have a question,” Elik said.

“Yes?”

“These are all… I will say it. All these examples of keeping things from Grisha happened many, many years ago. Have you not kept anything from him recently?” Really, how was he supposed to feel better about his own lying and obfuscating husband when these two were living in perfect honesty with each other for over a decade?

Maxim and Valery chuckled. “That’s your question?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Vasya replied, sounding awkward, “I will tell you, if you promise not to tell anyone ever.”

“We do!” 

“Two years ago, I burned the cake for our anniversary and so I only gave him the fresh berries that were supposed to decorate it.”

The moonlight let him that everyone stared at Vasya with the same disbelief. Really? That was something he had to hide?

“Anything else?” Maxim grinned. 

“Also… I’ve been trying to make wine of life out of potatoes for the last three years. So far, I haven’t been very happy with the results. I want to make a drink that will be as good as Grandfather Yaroslav’s Secret Fortifying Elixir.”

“Potatoes again?” Maxim snorted.

“They are wonderful,” Vasya said with obvious excitement.

Everyone but Elik lay down again. “Good night, Sir.”

Maxim tugged at Elik’s hand. “Go to sleep, or he will talk potatoes all night,” he whispered. 

“Potatoes are healthy and nutritious and…”

Elik lay down. “Good night, Vasya.”

Vasya huffed. “One day you will see. They are wonderful!”


	74. Chapter 74

2nd of Harvester

Mark stood up, got a kiss on each cheek from Filon and Artyom and kissed Ekaterina on the lips before kissing his boys. “What are your plans for the day?”

“I will be painting naked Guards in the garden, of course,” she grinned as she stood up and embraced them. “I will see you at lunch?”

“Yes, I am hoping that the meeting will be brief. I want to write to Nikolaj and have the letter sent as soon as possible.”

“About what?”

“Thanking him for bringing Sasha back, of course.” He kissed Filon and Artyom one more time. “You will be good, won’t you?”

“We are always good,” they both purred and turned to Ekaterina. “Aren’t we?”

She nodded. “You are more than good. Will you help me with a little something after the painting session?”

“Of course.”

Something in her smile made him wary, but he ignored it. “I will see you at lunch,” he told them and left his drawing room.

How strange this was. Before Filon and Artyom, Ekaterina and he led mostly separate lives while at Ivanhof, each fulfilling their duties to their Emperor, but with those two with them, how domestic they were becoming. He liked it. 

It reminded him of the first years of their marriage, when the Empress Dowager ruled in Nikolaj’s place. Ekaterina was just one more high-born lady, but not one in the Empress’ inner circle, while he was still more focused on his studies and then his career. Their duties were fewer and they had had more time to themselves. 

Not that he missed those days much. He much preferred having power, even though, the more power he had, the more he felt how much he owed to Nikolaj, and the more he understood how easy it was to lose everything. And the reaction of Pavel and Adam a few days earlier, so ready to stand with Nikolaj while he, his best friend, didn’t take a stand immediately, worried him. What if Nikolaj interpreted this as him supporting Elik against him, when he found out (which he would, he was certain that he would), instead of him not wanting to take sides between his best friend and the husband he knew that his best friend loved so much? 

Or, had he chosen Elik, and that was why he hadn’t taken a stand? Had that been lurking in his heart that morning? 

And why had Vassily not taken a stand? Or Dima? What did that mean? 

He had to figure his own thoughts, figure out their thoughts, and think of all the possible ways Nikolaj could act – even though he knew that Nikolaj would find a way to surprise him.

Sighing, he walked into the Council Meeting Room. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, just thinking. Please, leave us alone,” he told to all their staff. Only when they were completely alone did he sit down. “Gentlemen,” he sighed, “this is the second time His Majesty’s behaviour is causing our troops to … misbehave.”

Pavel snorted loudly. “Misbehaviour? The first time it was one man and one and a half regiments. This time it was a proper mutiny.”

“And if it wasn’t for your cousins, and the assassination attempt on His Majesty, we might be dealing with a rebellion now,” Adam said, shaking his head. 

“Misbehaviour really is the wrong term, Mark,” Vassily told him. 

“If your cousin and his friends weren’t the ringleaders of this mutiny, their heads would be rolling in the dirt now,” Pavel told him seriously. 

“In their defence, they only led the mutiny so it wouldn’t turn into a rebellion.”

“We know that, Mark,” Vassily told him. “Or we wouldn’t be happy either to sign the protest document, or to draft the decree for the military reforms. The matter remains, this was not a misbehaviour.”

“Indeed,” Mark told them, “and both times this was caused by Nikolaj’s behaviour. First, by treating his husband as a slave in front of everyone and misjudging the extent of Ivanof’s pride, and then treating a loyal officer as a slave.”

“He is treating everyone as slaves when he is in a bad mood, so what?” Dima asked. 

“So what? Do we wait for the next time this happens? If the men had rebelled at Nisdruna, would we still have an Emperor?” He shuddered. “It’s our duty as his friends to protect Nikolaj from himself.”

“So, what do you want us to do? I don’t understand,” Adam told him. 

“I don’t know either,” he huffed. “Maybe we need to start from the beginning?”

“Excuse me?” Pavel asked him, frowning. 

He shook his head. “It was just a thought.” The report on Vasya’s interrogation made for an interesting read and had given him ideas, but it was clear that Vasya had something in mind from the moment he’d started interrogating that assassin, whereas he didn’t know what was his objective. 

Vassily looked at him. “You mean, we need to figure out what makes Nikolaj act the way he does?”

He nodded. 

“That he’s the Embodiment of the Empire, and he’s Our Absolute Lord and Master, and Autocrat?” Vassily grinned.

“And he’s been that ever since he was born?” Adam smiled. 

“Law and Judge and Executioner?” Pavel snorted. 

“Maybe we should protect you from yourself,” Dima laughed. “He treats us like slaves, because he is Our Master.”

Mark took his kitten out of his pocket and looked at it. How he had grown. He let the kitten loose on the table and watched it.

“What? We are still working with animals? And I’ve been leaving Zuzu alone… well… not today, though… kind of…” Pavel grinned. 

“What?” They all stared at him. 

Pavel pointed towards the garden, with a naughty expression.

“The Guard?” Dima asked him, raising an eyebrow. 

“The Guard,” Pavel nodded, his grin as wide as it could be. 

“What’s his name?” Mark asked, smiling.

“Simeon.”

“Congratulations,” Adam told him brightly. 

“What about you and Agafia?” Pavel asked him. “Did you enjoy your evening with Flor?”

“It was most pleasant, but how did you find out?” Adam asked, amused. 

“I saw how you looked at him, and so I asked Simeon,” Pavel smiled at them. “Ah, those Guards are tasty, but don’t you think they must report everything to their Captain? They are so loyal to him after all. He denied it, of course, but you will never believe what I had to promise him to leave details out of his hypothetical report to Lesnev.”

Mark paled. He knew it was the Guards’ job to tease secrets out of their partners, but surely, they would leave the details of the process out and report only their findings. “They wouldn’t report everything everything.” 

“Oh, my sweet, naïve, young man,” Pavel smiled. 

Mark stood up, ran to the door, and then came back. “They wouldn’t.”

“Ask them.”

Mark sat down again. “I will. But I am certain that they don’t report everything.” Only what they had to. 

“What did you promise him?” Adam asked. “Just so I know.”

“Zuzu’s firstborns,” he told them seriously. “Only now this puts me in such a difficult position. I must ask for a Storjordi male cat, or have Zuzu breed with one of our cats.” He looked troubled. “If I ask for the Storjordi ambassador to send me a cat, then I will be in his debt, and that is unacceptable.”

“Why not ask our ambassador at Deep Port to send you one?”

“We don’t really get along.” He sighed. “I don’t want to breed Zuzu with a Bosilik cat. They look so different.”

Dima smiled. “I will write to our ambassador to get me a cat. I will say it’s for Mark.”

“You will? Thank you.” He reached and petted Mark’s kitten. “He’s grown.”

“Yes,” Mark said proudly. “Why is he so friendly with you?” he asked as the kitten stayed under Pavel’s hand and demanded more pets.

“He smells Zuzu and he’s jealous,” Pavel laughed. 

“Really?” Dima asked him. “Interesting.”

Mark grinned.

“I know what’s different about Nikolaj,” Vassily shouted.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s always been a little harsh when he was in a bad mood, but ever since he got married, he got worse.”

They looked at him. 

“He’s also been very happy ever since he got married,” Mark told them. “He really loves that young man. If he lost him….” He sighed. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“But that’s it,” Vassily continued. “He loves that man madly.”

“I don’t….”

“When he first married him, what did he do?”

Mark frowned. 

“He gave him to us to train him,” Pavel said, licking his lips. “Fuck, I wish he’d done that more often.”

Vassily grinned. “Yes, that, but what else?”

“He was fucking him everywhere,” Adam grinned. “And at all times.” 

Mark tried hard to keep his smile. They had messed up Elik so badly. Didn’t the others feel any remorse? He suddenly felt himself smile genuinely. Elik really was much stronger than anyone of them thought. 

“Yes,” Pavel agreed. “It was a bit like the days when Her Most Noble Majesty, his mother, was alive, and he’d spend his time courting and bedding any lady or gentleman that was pleasing to him.” He snorted. “Only he was a little bit more discreet then.”

Mark gasped. “The Ivanof affair is not important. It’s what happened afterwards that is.”

Vassily nodded. “Exactly.”

Mark took a deep breath. That would be difficult.

“Do you mind sharing with the rest of us?” Dima asked them.

Mark gestured for Vassily to continue.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “His Majesty is used to fucking. A lot. With many partners. All the time. Now that he is married to His Most Loyal and Monogamous Majesty, he can’t do that.”

“And that puts him in a bad mood,” Mark said. “When His Noble Consort is around, then his urges are satisfied and he’s happy, but when he is away?”

“He really was impossible while His Majesty was on his trip to the west,” Adam told them seriously, and nodding in agreement.

“And he loves fucking in public,” Vassily said, grinning. “Something that he cannot do with His Most Noble Consort all the time.”

“No, he must wait for the Winter Solstice Ball like the rest of us,” Adam said. 

They looked at each other. 

“How do we tell His Most Noble and Gracious and Monogamous Majesty that he must allow His Majesty to take bed partners whenever he wishes, so that he can be happy and satisfied, and not make stupid mistakes that make the army mutiny?” Adam asked them after a few minutes of silence “I dare not,” he cried. 

“Or tell His Majesty to have His Most Precious with him everywhere, even at the front, so that he can have him satisfy his urges?” Mark asked them. Nikolaj really hated the idea of his darling anywhere near the battlefield. “I dare not.”

They all sighed and looked down at the folders with their papers. 

Pavel continued petting Mark’s red kitten. “We don’t have to,” he said quietly. 

They looked up and looked at him. 

“We will let someone else do it,” Pavel grinned. “Someone who can deal with crises, and has the trust of both their Majesties.”

Vassily frowned. “Who?”

“Lesnev. His Majesty wouldn’t put him in charge of His Most Precious’ Guards if he didn’t trust him, while there is no doubt that His Most Noble consort trusts him with everything.”

Everyone turned to look at Mark. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you must write to him.”

He turned to Adam.

Adam shook his head. “If I do, it will become official Council Business and will be in the Archives. Do we want to let future generations know that the Council of His Most Great and Powerful Majesty was trying to get him laid?”

Pavel nodded. “You wanted to run an Orgy Hall; now it’s your chance to do it and make sure that your Most Illustrious Customer is well-pleased.”

Mark slowly grinned. His cousin was already treating Ivanhof as an Orgy Hall, turning the Guards from the polite and well-bred partners of Ladies and Gentlemen at dances to men free to choose their partners among Bosilik nobility, and then having them report on hopefully-not-everything. “I can try, but I can’t promise anything.”

“If that doesn’t work, we will think of something else,” Dima smiled. “Or let Lesnev do it.” 

“If that is all of today’s business,” Adam said, “Maybe we can go down to the garden and paint?”

Mark also didn’t feel like working after everything that had happened. Yet, he was the one who had to write to Vasya and tell him to persuade the Temperamental Imperial Child to let His Husband fuck around. He nodded. “I will join you as soon as I write to Lesnev.”

Dima stayed behind. “May I have a word?”

“Of course.” 

Dima looked at him seriously. “Mark, do you think you could look into disinheritance and how it can be reversed?”

He frowned. “Is this about Sasha?”

Dima nodded. “Mavra believes that Vasya would be a much better Head of the Main Branch, and Head of the Stanjinski House.”

“I thought she hated him.”

“She never hated him. She hated his betrayal of the family. There is a difference.”

Mark nodded. He could understand that. “What are you not telling me?”

“Nothing you don’t know already. Sasha is still full of ideas and no sense at all. The Head of the House should be someone more responsible than him.”

Mark grinned. That sounded like the Sasha he remembered. “I’ll look into it.”

“Thanks.”

“I will probably see you at lunch, then.”

“See you.”

Mark smiled at Dima and then looked at the papers in front of him. How would he write to Vasya that he… Argh! And Pavel had taken his kitten! How was he supposed to think without him? He got up and ran out of the room. “Pavel! You cat-thief!”

&*&*

Nikolaj looked at the men gathered at the fields outside the town, and who were looking back at him with amusement. He stepped on the specially constructed little stage so they could all see everything. 

His Generals stepped up, bowed respectfully, and then gave him the documents with the signatures of his men. Nikolaj knew it had taken them all day and most of the night to sign, but they had done it! And now they waited. 

He took them all gratefully, handed them to Count Njedzic and grinned at the men. “You had asked for a public apology and I gave you one a week ago. This time, however, I will give you an even better one!”

They all cheered for him. This was what he was used to!

He unfolded his speech. Even though he had tried to make it longer and use examples of other monarchs who had behaved unjustly, but were then forgiven, it was difficult. In the end, count Njedzic had suggested that a short speech would be better received, and remembered. 

“I, Nikolaj, son of Ivan, report in front of you that on the 20th of Fire Month, I punished unlawfully an officer most loyal. I broke Bosilik law that a punishment greater than ten lashes may not be administered on anyone without an inquest, trial, and sentence, and I admit my guilt. No man is above the law, especially the One who Embodies the Law, and whose word is Law itself. My behaviour was unlawful, unjust, and unjustifiable. This I admit, and my actions I regret. 

“The injured party graciously did not press charges against me, as it was within his rights, but agreed to accept my apology. In front of all of you, I repeat that I am sorry for my actions, and I ask you too to accept my apology.” 

The men continued to stare at him. 

He glanced at the Generals, whispering. “You did tell them to accept it, didn’t you?” He looked at the troops again. “I am truly sorry,” he said loudly. He turned towards Grisha. “And, in front of you, I want to give these tokens of my repentance to the officer my actions injured.”

Grisha stared at him with shock. “No,” he mouthed. 

“First of all, promotion to Colonel.”

The troops started cheering their approval, while Grisha glared at him.

“And secondly, the gift of a house and land by Lake Djerem.”

Everyone continued cheering. And why wouldn’t they, when he was being so generous? The land around that lake was his personal property, and only the emperor’s favourites could live there. 

Grisha huffed in anger, but couldn’t say anything. 

“I see you approve,” he said, grinning. “Thank you.” He smiled at the Generals. “We are staying here today as well. If you excuse me,” Nikolaj stepped down from the stage and, taking Grisha by the arm started leading him away from the pavilions that had been set up the night before in order to give drinks and food to the men, as yet another thanks-offering for their acceptance of his apology. 

“I only wanted an apology, Sire,” Grisha told him furiously, “not a promotion, nor land.”

“Now you have them.” He grinned. “I’ll give a promotion to your husband as soon as an opportunity arises.”

Grisha didn’t reply but took a few deep breaths instead. “That was underhanded,” he finally told him. 

“If you had accepted your promotion at Nisdruna, I wouldn’t have done it in front of everyone. Now, are you ready to listen to my other report?”

Grisha nodded, and he started telling him everything that had happened in the days before Grisha had arrived. 

“Well?” he asked after he had told him everything from the daily logs, and they had made a small walk around the field before returning to one of the pavilions that the men had immediately vacated for their use. “Here, have a seat,” he said, feeling a little guilty. Grisha didn’t look that well, but was pale and sweaty. 

“Thank you.”

He motioned Mir and Yulian away, so they were as alone as possible, and gave tea to Grisha himself. 

“Sire, do you ever think that maybe you should stop drinking so much?”

“Excuse me?”

Grisha looked at him seriously. “From what you have told me, I see three issues. The first is… forgive me for saying this, Sire, but you can no longer drink as much as you could a few years ago.” He smiled at him. “None of us are not getting younger. Maybe we should stop drinking as much.”

Nikolaj frowned. “But we always drink. That’s fun.”

“I don’t disagree, but do we need to drink until we pass out or forget what we have done the night before? I am not saying we should be like his Majesty, Your Most Noble Consort, who drinks nothing, but maybe we should drink a little less than what we used to?”

Did he hear that right? “Have you told Vasya that?”

Grisha snorted. “How do you tell a Stanjinski not to drink? That whole family has alcohol instead of blood in their veins. No, I did not tell him, but last time we were with friends and we all drank as if we were all fucking Stanjinskis, when I woke up, I threw up on him.” He grinned. “He got the message.” 

Nikolaj chuckled. 

“If I could have used words, I would have, but at that moment, that was not what could come out of my throat,” Grisha laughed. 

“So, now he’s drinking less?” he asked, still surprised and full of disbelief. 

“I hope so. At least, he’s only drinking with friends, and when they were at the West, he only drank a little when he had to. Or so he said. What’s little for him, is probably what both you and I can drink together, and they were drinking and partying almost every night.” He sighed, shaking his head. 

“Fucking Stanjinskis,” he sighed. “How do they do it?”

“No idea. I do everything he says I must before, during, and after drinking, but…” he shook his head. “It doesn’t work that well for me, as it does for him.”

Nikolaj nodded. “I guess, if you can make a Stanjinski drink less, the rest of us can do it too. I still can’t remember most of the Winter Solstice night.” He sighed again. All he could remember was that Elik was so beautiful that night; he was his dream come true. He really was. He sighed again. “What are the two other issues you saw?”

“That you should drink even less when you are on duty, and, Sire, you are on duty all the time when you are campaigning. Drinking really clouded your judgement on the 19th of the previous month.”

If a Stanjinski could do it, so could he. “Understood. I will give orders to limit the drinks from now on.”

“And the third issue?”

“Actually, there are four. Why was it more important to you that you had not learned of the incident at Fladd more important than the immediate threat?”

“I don’t know.” Nikolaj froze, suddenly scared and remembering what Longin and Isak had told him. “Are you going to ask me ‘why’ until I figure it out myself?”

Grisha smiled. “No, that’s what Vasya does. But I will ask you to think about it, because I don’t know why either.”

“Don’t you have any ideas?”

Grisha stared at him tiredly. “It could be because you want to know everything, but it doesn’t explain why it was more important at that moment.”

“I see. I will think about it, I promise you. And the fourth?”

“Why was it more important to uphold your dignity and fame among other kings rather than do something to secure peace between us and Ustvela?”

“Because one shouldn’t interfere with other countries like that. One should declare war, openly and honestly, and fight against another king bravely, not like that.”

“Francis clearly didn’t care about that. Why did you?”

Nikolaj shook his head. “I don’t know. I have been thinking about this for days, and I still don’t know.” He studied Grisha. Even after sitting down for a while, he still looked unwell. “Colonel, you should get some rest. I shouldn’t have taken you out of the hospital.”

Grisha snorted. “Too late now. I was getting eager to leave that place, anyway. Going north or east made little difference to me.” 

Nikolaj stood up and Grisha did as well. “I will see you at lunch,” he said.

“Yes, Sire.”

Nikolaj was amused to see the two Guards who had become Grisha’s minders and nurses hurry towards them so they could look after Grisha. Ah, how fierce they were. His darling was lucky to have such wonderful Guards. 

And so good-looking too. 

&*&*

Elik raised his hand. “Do you hear what I hear?” he asked the others. The wind carried the sound of song, and horses.

Vasya slowed down a little.

“That’s definitely our brothers,” Jan laughed. 

“Singing, the happy bas…” Andrik started saying and stopped at a sharp glance by Vasya.

“Captain, can we meet them?” Elik asked.

“Aren’t we in a hurry?” He grinned. 

“Yes, but…”

“Captain, when Sila and I were traveling back, we asked them to have lunch with us alone, and they did it. Let me ride ahead and make the arrangements.”

“Yes, will it matter that much if we spend lunchtime with our brothers?” Valery asked.

Elik stared pleadingly at Vasya. “I could spare an hour or two,” he said. 

“Please?” Vadim also asked.

Vasya nodded at Maxim. 

He darted to a path to their left and they followed him at a slower pace. 

“My mother said to me,” Elik started singing along with the Guards on the main road.

“La li la la li. La li la la li,” the others sang with him. 

“Private Alexandrov,” Vasya reprimanded him, “what are you doing?”

“Where are you going, child?” They all sang.

“La li la la li. La li la la li.”

Vasya shook his head. 

“My mother said to me.”

“You’re incognito,” Vasya protested.

“La li la la li. La li la la li,” they ignored him. 

“Don’t go out in the dark,” they sang.

“La li la la li. La li la la li.”

Sighing, Vasya sang with them. “My mother said to me.”

Elik smiled at him. He had missed this! He had missed his brothers. He had missed not worrying about his husband, and assassins, and court factions. How simple life on the trip had been. Because there he was not worrying about his husband, and assassins, and court factions. He started laughing. Ah, how foolish he was! 

“Demyan?”

“There’s no rest or safe place for a crowned head,” he grinned. “I must accept it.” 

Vasya smiled at him. “Even if you were just a private, you’d still have troubles.”

“Although our troubles are fewer ever since we started playing for trifles,” Jan grinned. 

Vadim shook his head. “Not all of them. My parents expect me to get married now that we are back.”

“Really?” Valery asked him. 

“Yes. I wonder if they have heard about the parties,” he suddenly sighed. “If my mother finds that I will not be as chaste as the bride they have chosen for me, she will….” He sighed deeply. 

“Is your family that traditional?” Elik asked him. 

“Oh, yes. They are very strict about that.”

“Why didn’t they marry you off at sixteen?” Andrik asked him. 

“They couldn’t afford it. They had to marry two brothers and five sisters before it was my turn. But now that I have enough money to marry, I must.”

They all stared at him. “You have seven siblings?”

“Yes, and I had to buy gifts from every place we stopped for everyone. Do you know how much space all these little trinkets took up? I had to …” He stopped and looked away.

Vasya carefully pretended not to look at him. “One old man had a goat,” he suddenly started singing loudly. 

“In his garden full of flowers, went the goat,” the Guards joined in from the main road. 

Elik grinned. His brothers! How he had missed them!

&*&*

Evgeni knew they were privileged beyond belief to be allowed to eat in the same room as His Majesty and his immediate staff, but how much he would have preferred it if his Majesty had allowed the Major to stay in his room and have lunch there. _Sir looks so worn out_ , he wrote on a piece of a paper and showed it to Carel, who was sitting right next to him. 

Carel nodded. _We shouldn’t have left the hospital_ , he wrote under Evgeni’s message. 

Evgeni sighed. “Indeed,” he muttered. 

The doors to the dining room opened, and from the newcomer’s grim and tired expression, Evgeni knew not to expect any good news. 

His Majesty smiled, clearly not seeing what Evgeni was seeing. “One of your men, Grisha?”

That was still a surprise, even though His Majesty had been behaving as if the Major was an old friend even when they had been back at Nisdruna. 

The Major nodded. “Samuil?”

The man bowed and sighed as he stood up. He took out a notebook.

“More protests and requests?” His Majesty smirked. 

By the end of Samuil’s report, Evgeni wished that it was more protests and requests that he had come to tell them about. He held Carel’s hand. How bad were things there, for the Captain to do something so … stupid, or desperate? He tried not to cry, and even more, he tried not to look at Carel’s note in front of him. 

_He’s no traitor._

No, he wasn’t, but how could he have said those things? How? 

His Majesty resembled a statue, while the Major looked so pale and drawn that Evgeni expected him to pass out in any moment. The Generals did not look much better either, and neither did Count Bitoulin. 

“Any letters for me?” Count Bitoulin whispered when Samuil had finished. 

“Yes.”

He gave him a single letter and he opened it carefully. He read it with an expression that grew more and more horrified. “Your Majesty,” he said tiredly when he had finished. 

“What is going on? Apart from Lesnev there declaring he will kill me if Grisha dies.”

“He was stalling and…,” Samuil began protesting, but at a look from His Majesty, he stopped talking. 

Count Bitoulin closed his eyes for a moment. “Reports of unrest at the Capital and barricades in the streets, in fear of a rebellion.”

His Majesty stared at the Major. “Stalling,” he murmured. “What else?”

Count Bitoulin turned towards Samuil. “You have letters for the men here, right?” When Samuil nodded, he looked at the Major. 

“They won’t be as stupid as to start protesting again, will they?” His Majesty asked the Major threateningly. 

The Major shook his head. “You will tell them that, right, Samuil?”

Samuil nodded. “But the Cook,” he said miserably. 

“The Cook has made himself clear,” the Major whispered, shivering. “Samuil, please go and tell them not to be stupid.”

Count Njedzic made a gesture and everyone else left after Samuil. Evgeni made to stand up, but the Major shook his head, so he and Carel stayed where they were. Did Carel feel as out of place as he did? 

The moment they were alone, General Loviljin stood up. “Sire, Lesnev is no traitor.”

“You all heard him. It doesn’t matter that he’s stalling. He clearly and openly and in front of everyone declared his intentions,” His Majesty said with a carefully blank expression. “Threatening to kill me is treason. This I cannot forgive. I am sorry.”

General Loviljin sat down, his expression one of misery. 

The Major nodded. “I know. Will you grant me then something I wish, Sire? Take my head when you take his? I will not live without him.”

His Majesty’s expression didn’t change.

“Sire?” Count Bitoulin asked for permission. Even though he had spoken quietly, his voice sounded loudly in the silence. ““I recommend we stay here for the next days, until we have more news from the Capital.” 

Everyone stared at him. 

“I thought you wanted us to advance,” General Mrishsnan muttered, looking as if he was waking up from a nightmare. 

“Yes, but…” He sighed for a moment. “Lesnev writes that if there is a rebellion, he expects the army to try crowning His Majesty, Your Most Noble Consort, as sole emperor.”

His Majesty’s frozen expression changed to one of utter horror. “What?” 

Count Bitoulin nodded. “He asks us to wait wherever we are, since he will try persuading His Majesty to come at the camp, and the shorter the journey, the better, although he fears that His Majesty might prefer dying at Ivanhof instead of escaping the Capital.”

The sound His Majesty made was not human; it was something Evgeni had heard dying animals make, sad and helpless and aware their approaching death, beyond fear, but crying out at the unfairness of it. 

“He also writes,” Count Bitoulin continued as if he hadn’t heard him, “That he intends to send the Chancellor out of Bosilke, since he fears that he might not be safe at the camp.”

“And you call this man a traitor,” Major Kamenski huffed in a low voice. He spat on of the floor. 

“He did say he would…” The Major whispered brokenly. “It doesn’t matter …” He covered his face with his hands and sighed. “He is a traitor.”

General Loviljin nodded, looking even more miserable than before.

His Majesty stood up suddenly, and they all did the same. “If he persuades my love to come here, I will forgive him even if he marches against me with all the regiments under his command,” he told them seriously. 

“And if he doesn’t?” Major Kamenski asked curiously. 

“Then he will die at Ivanhof with his king,” the Major murmured. “Sire, may I retire?”

His Majesty nodded, looking just as exhausted and miserable as the Major. 

This time, when Evgeni and Carel rushed to help him out, the Major didn’t protest, and let them half-carry him out of the room. 

“They are just reacting to the news of your illness,” Carel whispered to the Major. 

“By now, they will know that you are well, and they will have dispersed,” Evgeni added. 

“Yes, that is the most likely possibility, but can you be sure? You can’t, until we have more news tomorrow.” 

They had nothing to say to that, so they stayed quiet until they reached the room allocated to the Major, two floors above His Majesty’s. 

He looked at them with a lost expression when he was there. “I would like to be alone,” he told them. “Please.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“We’ll be right outside, if you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

With a salute, they left him in his room. 

“Do you think that they will be as stupid as to rebel?” he asked Carel. 

“No, but can you believe that he wanted to execute our Captain for treason?”

“Even after listening to all that…” Evgeni shuddered. “Even I can understand now why they are so loyal to him, but…. How could he?”

Carel hugged him. 

“How I wish this will all be a nice story someday, a story where all the suffering ends in happiness,” he sighed. A story where the Emperor really loved his kind and intelligent war-caught bride, the two Majors invented new dishes, he was with his husband, and everyone lived happily ever after. 

Carel nodded and hugged him a little more tightly. Evgeni hugged him back.

&*&*

Elik hugged Vanya tightly. “How I wish I could meet everyone,” he told them as he stepped back. 

“It’s a secret, we get it,” Vanya smiled brightly at him. 

“Thank you.”

“Private Alexandrov, are you done?” Vasya asked him from his horse. 

“One moment, Captain,” he grinned. “He is strict,” he whispered at Yuri and Ignat, grinning. “I asked for two hours and he won’t give me a minute longer.”

“If he were strict, he wouldn’t have stopped,” Izot smiled. 

“That is true.” He hugged them one more time. “I will see you at Ivanhof when this is over.”

They all nodded. 

“Good bye, Demyan.”

“Have a good trip.”

“Go punch your man!”

Vasya groaned at that.

“I will, I will,” he grinned as he mounted his horse. “Have a good trip home.”

“Good bye!” They all sang together.

He spurred his horse on. “That was wonderful! Thank you, Captain!”

Vasya snorted. 

“My mother said to me,” Elik suddenly started, feeling happy. His brothers and their families were fine, they knew he was well, they knew that some of the troubles were over, and he was on his way to punch his man!

“La li la la li. La li la la li,” they all sang with him. Even Vasya!

&*&*

The knock on the door made him pull himself together for a moment. “Enter.”

Evgeni opened the door, looked at him apologetically, and then moved aside, letting His Majesty walk in. At his nod, Evgeni closed the door, but not before glaring at His Majesty’s back. Ah, those wolf cubs. 

“I know you said we should drink less,” His Majesty started as he sat down on the chair across Grigori’s bed, “but, I think we can allow ourselves this,” he said as he opened his coat and took out a bottle filled with a clear liquid that had to be wine of life.

He nodded. 

His Majesty took two of the teacups from the desk, filled them with the wine, and gave one to Grigori. “To good health.”

“To health,” he repeated, before trying it. “Hm, not bad.”

“Thanks.” He looked at him seriously. “I’m sorry, Grisha, but I had no choice.” His Majesty looked miserable. “And if they crown my darling as sole Emperor, I will have no choice but to also declare him a traitor and….” He sighed deeply. 

“I know. The same way that I have no choice either.”

“I will pardon him when this is over,” His Majesty said after drinking. “Unless he does take my throne together with Elik. Do you think they will be merciful?” he grinned. 

“You were drinking before you came here,” Grigori told him.

He nodded. “Yes, Sir. This is not my first bottle of wine of life this afternoon.” 

Grigori sighed. “Why do you even ask my opinion, if you don’t listen to it?” He finished his cup and poured himself a second one. 

“I thought you didn’t drink much.”

“Not as much as I used to. To your good health,” he said as he finished it in one gulp. It burned his throat, and settled pleasantly in his belly. 

“To your good health,” His Majesty replied as he finished his drink. “They will be fine, won’t they?” he asked him with a miserable expression. “I can’t lose Elik. He is my One and Only, he is,” he said as he poured himself another drink and filled Grigori’s cup. 

“And Vasya is mine,” Grigori told him miserably. “I will die without him.”

“Yet, he declared himself a traitor without thinking of the consequences.”

“I thought you said you’d pardon him,” he said as he filled their cups. 

“I will. I’m just trying to understand.”

“What is there to understand? The men would have rebelled if Vasya hadn’t told them to go over his dead body.” He sighed. “He’s such an idiot.”

“To me he sounds like Mark’s best student. Mark is not my Chancellor because he’s my best friend. He’s there because he’d loyal, hard-working, clever, and can turn black into white with his words, and make people believe it was white in the first place.”

Grigori looked at him, wondering if his misery showed. It probably did. “Vasya is a gambler. He gambled that the men would stop. But what if he had misjudged the situation?”

“Do you trust him so little?”

“No, but I love him, and I know that to win at gambling you need Luck as well as skill. What if his Luck runs out? Ever since I met him, I wanted to keep him safe, yet all I do is make trouble for him.” He felt tears burn his eyes. “He lost his family and his position for me, and this time, he was going to lose his life for me.” 

His Majesty smiled weakly at him. “I don’t think he will. Ah, what if they do crown my love sole Emperor?”

Grigori stood up and went to the door. “Evgeni, Carel, can you get Samuil for me?”

“What is it you want to ask him?”

“His assessment of the situation.”

His Majesty sighed deeply. “Do you think Elik will listen to Vasya?”

He nodded. 

“I hope so. What will I do if I lose him?”

Grigori stared at him curiously. 

“Why do you look at me like that?” He filled their cups and finished his before pouring himself some more wine of life. “I have been thinking a lot these days. I don’t know why I was going to let Francis’ men go after him, but I know that I can’t lose him. I love him. Even though I don’t understand him all the time.” He smiled. “I keep waiting for the report that will say that he joined the mutiny and started singing songs about justice.”

Grigori smiled as well. “He’d find a rooftop probably.”

“And sing with his Guards.”

They laughed. “He would,” Grigori told him. “Vasya wrote about theatre in his reports. I dare say, His Majesty sounds like a person who loves having a stage.”

“You have no idea. My love is an actor.” He grinned. “And yours is an accomplished intelligence agent.” His expression grew serious. “He really is a dangerous man, your husband.”

Grigori sat down and finished his drink. “Who is loyal to you and will never betray you. I would have died in that farmhouse if not for you sending your doctor, and Vasya would have died with me. We owe you our lives, Sire.”

He snorted. “You would have survived. You are the strongest person I have ever known.”

“Perhaps, but Vasya is certain I would have died, and he was the one who …” He gave him a tired smile. “I was mostly unconscious those days; I don’t remember much. If he says that I was going to die without your doctor, then I believe him.” Vasya certainly had cried enough those days, that he would believe him just because of that.

He studied him. “Yes, you do,” he said with certainty.

“You don’t?”

He looked up. “I do,” he said when he faced Grigori again. 

One of the wolf cubs knocked on the door. “Enter.”

“Sir?” Samuil asked as he looked inside.

“Thank you, Evgeni, Carel. Come in.”

Samuil stood even more awkwardly in front of them than he had at the dining room. 

“Samuil, if there is a rebellion tomorrow…”

He shook his head. “Sir, by the time he finished that speech, we all knew he wanted to delay us. If we had wanted to rebel, we would have done it then, but we didn’t. Now that I see that you are on your way to recovery, I am even more glad that he stopped us.”

“Why didn’t you?” His Majesty asked him.

“Because, we obey the Captain, but we listen to the Cook,” Samuil replied immediately. 

His Majesty frowned. “Isn’t that the same?”

“No, but…” Samuil smiled in an embarrassed manner. “I forgot the difference. But there definitely is one, because we had talked about it.”

“Thank you, Samuil,” His Majesty said, with a tiny smile. “You may go.”

Grigori nodded, and Samuil left them after saluting them.

“You are both dangerous men,” he told him. 

“Loyal too,” Grigori reminded him. 

He smiled. “That is also true.” His smile fell. “I had invited Elik here, together with Vasya. I don’t think they will be able to leave the Capital while a mutiny is in progress.” He looked at the bottle, and Grigori did the same. They had all but finished it. “Ah, fuck, it Grisha. Let’s go down and drink with everyone as if we are fucking Stanjinskis in their annual Head of House Summer Party.”

Grigori stared at him. What did he know about the annual Head of House Summer Party of the fucking Stanjinskis? He’d never been invited in one, even though he remembered Vasya coming to him after four of them. And after that last one… he sighed deeply. “What were we talking about this morning? We are not fucking Stanjinskis. We weren’t when we were twenty, and we are not now.”

“But, Grisha, I am worried and I am miserable, and what if anything happens to my love? He could be dead now, and I will only find out in days,” he cried out. 

Grigori glared at him, more tears filling his eyes again. “If he’s dead, so is my Vasya. I don’t want to think about it,” he shouted at him. 

“So, why not drink until we forget about it?”

“Because we need to keep a clear hear tomorrow to deal with whatever shit Luck throws us.”

“Fuck, Grisha,” he whined. 

He stood up. “You want to not think about the mutiny that has not become a rebellion so far?”

He nodded. 

“Fine. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Down.”

“Whatever for?”

“What time is it?”

“Three.”

“Then, there is still time for story time with Lesnev.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have twenty thousand men down there doing nothing. I’m going to give them something to do, and you will do it with them.” He opened the door. “Evgeni, Carel, get everyone at that field where we were this morning. I want to tell you all a story.”

Evgeni and Carel grinned and hurried down the stairs shouting at everyone. “Storytime with the Captain!”

Moments later, he heard the noise of everyone in the house running out. 

“What did I just agree to do?” His Majesty asked him with a frown.

“You just agreed to lead your team to the biggest battle re-make we’ve ever had at Bosilke. Even Vasya at the Barracks of the Reds doesn’t have enough men for this. Ha!” He laughed. 

He really didn’t want to think about whatever news the messenger from the Capital brought towards them at that moment. No, he wanted to forget about the mutiny. He wanted to forget about the possibility of the army rebelling. He wanted to forget about Vasya worrying about him. He wanted to forget about Vasya thinking he was a traitor who deserved to die. 

He wanted to pretend this was just another summer day, that he was out training with his men, and Vasya was at work, waiting for him to finish so that they could go back home and have dinner in their garden, either alone or with friends. Yes, that’s all this was. Yet another day. 

&*&*

Filon looked at Mark curiously, and saw Artyom do the same. 

“I thought we’d be having dinner at the banquet hall,” Katya said, sounding just as curious as they were. 

“I had thought so too, but we need to discuss something,” Mark told them as he gestured for their servants to leave them alone. “Please, start.”

Filon looked at the salad in front of him. It was drizzled with olive oil, as it was served at Valentin. How quickly he’d managed to not care that his lover was the Chancellor, able to afford such luxuries as olive oil. And olives!

“Filon, Artyom,” he told them, “You know I am more than fond of you, right?"

They looked at him and nodded.

“And you know that I know that you are loyal to Vasya, right?”

They nodded again.

“if you had to choose between Vasya and me, whom would you choose?”

“Excuse me?” Filon turned towards Artyom. Artyom shrugged, clearly not understanding the question.

“Boys,” he told them, “If you are with us, you can’t be with Vasya as well.”

Katya took a deep breath. “Mark, my love, that makes no sense. Speak clearly, please.”

Mark studied them. “You don’t tell everything we do to Vasya, do you? Like, the ropes and such things…”

Filon started laughing. A moment later, Artyom joined him. “No, of course not,” Filon said. 

“The Captain told us not to,” Artyom added.

Mark shared a glance with Ekaterina. “So, if he hadn’t, you would be telling him everything everything….?”

“Well…” Filon smiled. “No. We’re not like Maxim.”

“Or Sila.”

“Or Peter.”

“Plain Peter, not the Tall or the Short.”

“Or Vadim.”

“Or Savik.”

“Or Vanya.”

“Or…”

“I get it,” Katya gasped, before laughing loudly. “Poor Vasya.”

Mark nodded as well, grinning. “Oh, no. Vasya is really shy, Boys. Can you persuade the other Guards not to share intimate details with him?”

Artyom reddened. “That may be too late by now.”

The Captain? Shy? Had they been to any of his parties? “Sorry,” Filon told them. He nudged Artyom. “Should we ask what Maxim asked?” he whispered. 

“If we’re being so honest, why not?” Artyom asked back.

“We promise to tell the Guards to be less… forthcoming with details, although… yeah, it is too late for that really,” Filon started. 

“But can you tell us something in return?”

“You may ask, but I may not answer,” Mark smirked. 

“Does the Captain know how big you are? We’re all very curious to know.”

“We promise not to share your answer.”

Mark stared at them before grinning with pleasure. “That was such a naughty question, boys. And you know how boys who are naughty get punished for their naughtiness.”

Filon nodded eagerly. Artyom shivered, and his eyes shone with delight. “Here?”

Katya smiled and pointed at the sofa, where three of her lap dogs were sitting and watching them.

“But after our punishment, can we be rewarded with the answer?”

“No, but I will punish you for continuing to be naughty.”

“It was worth a try,” Artyom said as he started stripping.

“Yes, it was.” But at least they would get punished for their naughtiness. That was worth asking! 

&*&*

“I’m so glad we met our Brothers,” Valery said as they stepped into the safehouse. 

“They must have been so worried getting all this news back and forth and knowing that they couldn’t do anything,” Jan said.

Andrik nodded. “I agree.”

Maxim followed Vadim and the Young Lord inside. When he realized that the Captain was still outside, he went back out to the vegetable garden behind the house. “Sir?”

“The moon is still full and beautiful, is it not, and the night is mild. Would you like to have dinner in the garden?”

“Sir?”

“The air is full of scents. I miss our garden, Maxim. When the weather is nice, we have dinner outside, and this garden, with the trees planted at its borders reminds me of our garden so much. Would you and the others indulge me?” He smiled. “No, that is fine, forget it.”

Maxim ran back into the house. “The Captain asks if we want to eat in the garden.”

The Young Lord almost dropped the plate he was holding. “Really? That would be so wonderful,” he grinned. “Brothers, help me carry everything out.”

Maxim grabbed a few blankets so they could sit on the grass comfortably. He ran out and found the Captain still looking at the trees lining the edge of the property. 

“I always wanted a tree house,” he said, grinning. 

“Is that why you climbed the tree the moment we met our Brothers?”

“And scared us all that you had disappeared?” Andrik asked as he came out bringing plates and bread. 

“Where could I have gone? My horse was there.”

“It still took us five minutes to find you,” Maxim complained as he and the Captain started laying down the blankets. 

“I was impressed it took you that long. I was right above you!”

The Young Lord grinned as he came out with more food. “You gave us a scare, Brother.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You know who else likes to climb at high places and look down?” The Young Lord laughed. “Cats.”

The Captain huffed as he smiled.

“I like cats,” said Valery as he hurried towards the well so he could get more water. 

“So does the Captain. Major Lesnev I mean,” Vadim said. “Not you, Sir, your husband.”

“I know,” the Captain chuckled. “And he was devious enough to make me take care of his kittens so that I would like them.”

“Yes, that is very devious,” Andrik agreed, laughing. 

The Young Lord grinned. “What’s the most devious thing you have ever done?”

“We have never done anything devious ever,” Maxim protested. 

“Imperial Guards are always nice!” Vadim shouted. 

“They are,” the Captain said, sounding proud of them. 

“Hm, and there I was hoping to hear some fun story,” the Young Lord said as he sat down and started cutting the bread. 

“I can tell you a fun story, if you want.”

“What, Captain?”

“I’ll tell it to you as soon as Valery is back.”

“How wonderful!”

The Captain sprang up. “I’m going to see if he needs any help.”

The Young Lord turned towards them as soon as he was further away. “Vadim, how did you manage to bring all your presents back? I’ve been meaning to ask all day, but couldn’t,” he whispered excitedly. 

Vadim looked awkward. “I will tell you, but promise never to tell the Captain.”

Elik looked like he didn’t believe that they kept secrets from him. Well, of course, they did! Some things you really couldn’t tell! Well, not him, obviously, but others could!

“You bribe Yusta, Sire, and he hides them in the Captain’s chests,” Jan whispered. 

They nodded. 

“It was at Jedlowa that we realized that he never buys anything, so there is always extra space there,” Andrik said. 

“I bought such nice shirts there! And then had to leave them with Sana while we were away,” Vadim smiled.

“Sana? Vanya’s Sana?”

“Yes, she was kind enough to keep things for us. And so did others…. Hm, and most of those who held our things for us while we traveled, ended up married to a Guard, strangely enough! It was such a shame we couldn’t see them today,” Maxim said. How could he have imagined that the Quhjani hadn’t liked them at first, when everyone had been so nice from the very beginning?

“The fewer people know of this, the better,” the Captain said.

“We know,” they replied. 

“But I am glad we did stop,” the Young Lord said. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Don’t mention it, Demyan.”

The Young Lord grinned widely. “Remember, I’ll be Elik after dinner. Can we have the story now?” 

&*&*

Dinner over, story finished, plates cleaned, themselves washed, food for the next day prepared, beds made, what else was supposed to be done before going to sleep? 

Everyone stared at him.

“Won’t you open them? Elik finally asked what everyone wanted to ask him.

Vasily looked at the letters on the table. It looked like he wouldn’t be able to read them alone even if he begged them to give him some privacy. He sat down and everyone sat around the table. “This is from Count Bitoulin,” he said after he read it. “The army is marching forward without any resistance. And no one has fallen sick!” He folded it, picked up the candle, dropped some wax on it and stamped it with his seal. “This should go to the Capital.”

He picked up the second letter. “This is Evgeni and Carel’s report,” he said as he unsealed it and read it quickly. “They write that the Major is a really bad patient,” he grinned. “He wants to leave the hospital.” Was that wise?

“Hm, we can believe that,” Maxim and Valery said at the same time, looking accusingly at him. 

“Birds of a feather flock together,” Vadim grinned. 

“What do you mean?”

“As if you were a model patient,” Elik told him with a small huff. 

“I was,” he protested, and they looked at him with disbelief. “It was just a scratch!”

They groaned. 

Why couldn’t they believe him? If it hadn’t healed well…. That would be a different story, but praise be to Luck, it had! And praise be to Doctor van den Berg! 

“They also write that Stafik arrived at Nisdruna. The man I sent ahead to find out if His Majesty had authorized Grisha’s plan?”

“Ah.” Elik sighed with relief. “So, your team will be in Ustvela soon.”

He nodded. “We should burn some incense to Luck for them tomorrow.” He continued reading. “Oh! That’s what he was doing,” he grinned. 

“Eh?”

“Michal! He’s recruited him,” he said, feeling a little relief. He still had to ask; Grisha had been really nice to his latest recruit, but at least he knew why Grisha needed him. 

“So, you don’t have to worry about him?” Elik asked him.

“Well, I am still a little worried, but not as much,” he smiled again. “And this one,” he said, picking up the last letter, “it’s from Grisha.” 

They all leaned a little forward, eager to listen. 

He unsealed it and read the first line. It was truly a letter for him, not the men! Ah, Grisha! “He writes that he wants to leave the hospital,” he smiled. 

“Bad patient,” Maxim whispered.

“Probably,” he agreed. It would be a bit of a headache trying to figure out where to catch up with Grisha if he left the hospital, especially since they were using side roads so much. They’d probably… Oh, he could think about it later. He had a letter to finish. A letter for him! From Grisha! 

“Oh. He also writes that he’s worried about the harvest this year, and we should start planting potatoes.”

“Not potatoes again,” the Guards groaned. 

“They really are wonderful. You plant them, and a few weeks later, you have food! Although, if he’s right, and I think he may be, this means that this year I won’t be able to use potatoes for making wine of life. That would be so wasteful,” he told them seriously. “You need a lot of potatoes for making that drink, and if things will be as Grisha fears, then we can’t be using potatoes so frivolously.”

“You write about potatoes?” Maxim asked him seriously. 

“Yes, among other things.”

“That’s not very romance-like,” Elik muttered, looking strangely disappointed.

“What? What do romances have to do with what we write to each other? Being married means taking care of our household together, so naturally we write about these things to each other.” He sometimes couldn’t understand their obsession with romances. He kept reading. Ah, another pointless dream! How he longed to hold Grisha in his arms and think pointless dreams with him!

“I bet he’s reading something romance-like,” he heard Valery whisper. 

“Yes.”

“He’s here and listening,” he told them, and they looked like children caught doing something naughty. “Grisha writes that he wants us to take a leave,” he smiled. He’d probably use up all his leave days by the time he came back with Grisha, so that wouldn't work. But how nice it would be if they could do that the following year.

“And will you do it?” Elik asked him with a little worry in his voice.

“No, but one can think about it, right? Grisha would like us to go to an island, where we can swim, catch fish for our dinner, and eat berries for dessert.”

“What would you like?” Elik asked him.

“That doesn’t sound bad,” he smiled. “I would be happy living a simple life like that just with Grisha.”

They sighed, looking at him strangely. 

They were so weird. “What about you? What would you do if you wanted to hide from the world for a while?”

“I would sail and sail and sail,” Elik grinned.

“I would hide in a city in the west,” Maxim said, “and spend my days in coffee shops.”

“No one would find you there,” Valery said admiringly. 

“And you?”

“I would like to go to a mountain.”

“An excellent idea!”

“I would like to go to Jedlowa,” Andrik said.

“Really?”

“It’s beautiful!”

“But you won’t be able to hide there,” Elik told him.

“Yes, I will be. I’ll hide in the basement in Sana’s tavern.” He gave them a wicked smile. “Do you know how many of us hid in that basement while trying to avoid the prying eyes of the Grannies of Jedlowa?” 

Vadim nodded. “Why can’t you kiss in public there?”

“It’s not right.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It just is.”

“At least you can hold hands,” he told them. How he liked holding hands with Grisha. Or touching Grisha. Or doing anything with Grisha! He sighed. How he missed Grisha! 

They sighed with him, for no reason. “I need to send a couple of letters, but you should go to sleep. We start early tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He ignored them as they moved, and he started writing to Dorofea Anishina. He knew she’d understand when he told her to plant potatoes! But how could he get the village council to listen to them? 

And he had to write to Mark. Had he got any reports that the crops would be bad this year?


	75. Chapter 75

3rd of Harvester 

Jan froze as he was about to mount his horse.

“What is it?” Elik asked him. 

Jan stared at Vasya. “We passed, didn’t we? Our review.”

Andrik and Vadim also stared at the him. “Did we?” they asked with clear excitement.

Elik stared as well. “Did they?”

Vasya grinned at them. “You will have to wait until the review results are out to find out.”

“But, Sir, you mentioned what Stafik went to do,” Vadim said, looking excited. “You wouldn’t have if we hadn’t.”

Vasya looked at them all. “We are leaving before dawn today in order to make up for the time we lost yesterday, not to have time to discuss the review. Less talking, more riding, Gentlemen. Ha!” He spurred his horse on and it started running. 

“He will not admit it before the results are out, but, Brothers, I think we passed!” Jan grinned as he finally moved. 

“We should sing a song, then,” Elik laughed. “Congratulations, Brothers. Hey, Captain, if my brothers passed their review, will you make them pancakes? I will help!” 

One way or another, he would get that recipe!

&*&*

“Show me the path I need to take,” Grigori hummed quietly. Ah, this morning would not pass. He’d been awake since a little after dawn, yet he hadn’t found the energy to stir from the bed for more than a quick visit to the privy. No matter how much he wanted to pretend that this was just another day, he couldn’t.

How he hoped that Vasya and the others had made progress with the communications systems they had been testing at the Barracks. The day before he hadn’t thought much about it, but, for some reason, that was most of what he could think that morning. 

As if that mattered. If the news were good, everything would be… And the news should be good; they really were reacting to the news they were receiving from here, and those news to the men there were past for them here. 

How would it be for something to happen and for another person to know it at the same time as it happened? How wonderful such a world would be! And perhaps frightening. What if his men at the Capital had rebelled at the same time as the men here? And Vasya would be feeling even more despondent than he must have been feeling at that moment, knowing that he was unwell, and he was still unable to be with him. 

He’d rather have a world where you could fly to your One and Only like a bird. He didn’t care about knowing things as quickly as they happened. He would rather be able to be with Vasya the moment he learned that Vasya needed him, rather than…. 

He sighed. He’d wasted all morning in pointless thoughts, and despite knowing that, he still couldn’t get out of bed. 

“Sir?” Carel asked behind the door as he knocked softly, “Won’t you come down for breakfast?”

“Yes,” he said tiredly.

Carel opened the door, bringing the bandages and the honey salve he’d convinced them to start using on his back. Evgeni walked in behind him with the wash basin.

“If I don’t come down for breakfast, His Majesty will come here,” he smirked. 

“Sir?”

“How could he say that he could kill our Captain as a traitor when they were friends?”

“He would kill His One and Only as a traitor, and he loves that man,” Grigori told them.

“If he loved him, he would send him in exile. Or put him in prison for a while. Same with his friends,” Carel said as he started removing his bandages as gently as he could.

Gently or not, it still hurt. 

“Perhaps he doesn’t love him. Or his friends,” Evgeni said miserably. 

“He loves them. Didn’t you see him yesterday?” 

They both made a soft noise of assent. 

“It’s not easy being a king. I don’t envy him at all,” he told them quietly. “If I could live my life as I wanted, I would want a cabin that I’d share with Vasya. It would have a vegetable garden and fruit trees. Maybe a goat too. Or a cow. Vasya says butter from cow’s milk is tastier, and goats do eat everything in a garden, but… I like goats. And a few chicken would be nice to have. For some cakes, you really need eggs.”

“Nothing else?”

“No. I can live with less, or even nothing, as long as I have Vasya but,” he craned his neck to smile at them, and caught them grinning madly at his ideas, “I like having some comforts. And having cakes and desserts.”

“And now you have a house by Lake Djerem,” Evgeni smiled softly. 

He smiled back, feeling the same despair he’d been feeling all day gnawing in his chest. “What if I do, if I have lost Vasya?”

“It won’t come to that, Sir,” Evgeni reassured him immediately.

“No, the men there want to rebel as much as the men here. That is, not at all,” Carel nodded. 

He looked away from them. “You are right, and I agree with you, yet, before getting news, I cannot allow myself to hope too much.” He sighed deeply. Vasya lived on hope, but not him. 

“What is…” His Majesty said from behind them. “Oh,” he gasped, shocked. 

“Don’t,” he whispered to the wolf cubs, feeling them tense just from the way they touched him. “Evgeni, Carel, please, finish what you are doing.”

“I am so sorry,” His Majesty said uselessly.

“I know, and you’ve said it before. No need to repeat it over and over, Your Majesty.”

“You are angry.”

“I am in pain and I am worried. With all respect, Sire, hearing you say you are sorry for what you did to me does not help with either.”

He heard him snort. “Understood. I won’t tire your ears with pointless words from now on.”

“Thank you.”

“What can I do for you, then?”

“Right now? Nothing.” He shifted so he could look at him, and Evgeni and Carel immediately moved to his left and right. “Later, though, and if Luck is with us, I might ask for something.”

“Anything,” he said earnestly. 

“Thank you.”

“I will see you soon, then.” With a nod, His Majesty left the room. 

“What will you ask, Sir?” Carel asked him.

“Frankly? I have no idea,” he grinned. “Perhaps I will ask for a short leave. Or a long one.” He smiled at the wolf cubs. “And I want to take your Captain on a trip. Do I have your permission?”

“Do you need it?”

“Of course.”

“You have it from us, and I am certain the others will also give it to you,” Carel grinned. 

“Thank you.” He closed his eyes, still smiling. Perhaps he too lived on hope.

&*&*

_Hohenberg, 3rd of Harvester_

_My Dearest Brother,_

_I am well, but I am so very worried about you! Please, write to me as soon as you get this!_

_Your news shook me and left me gasping for breath! HOW DARE THAT MAN…. I have no words to describe him!_

_Brother, I talked to my Husband about it and you know what he told me? That, he was appalled by what Francis had planned, yet that HORRIBLE man is our ally, so…._

_Brother, my tears since I have spoken to him have made me ill. I have decided to move to our summer house down the Mahle valley and recover there! Please, send your reply there._

_I also took the liberty to write to Our Sisters and Brothers and let them know of Francis’ perfidy. Oh, Brother, if he did that to my Husband, I would take arms, ride into his country and …. Do something very un-regal to him!_

_Furthermore, since I cannot really protest officially, I have asked Lady Neuneber, the wife of Our Ambassador at Krzydzov, to let her husband know that We are Most Displeased, and if he does not pass this message to Rotten Francis, then to punch him for his cowardice on Our Behalf._

_I so wish I could punch my husband for allowing Francis to behave in this manner._

_Frankly, Dear Brother, I wish Ada were on the throne. Fredrik is a most disagreeable creature, who has Displeased Us Greatly during his stay here! I could not speak of it before, but, right now, I am SO ANGRY, that I will say it. He dared try take liberties with Us! Can you believe it, Brother?_

_I kept my silence until now, not just with you, but with everyone, because I respected my Most Honoured and Beloved Husband, and the love he had for his nephew. But now I feel so hurt!_

_Ah, Brother, I think I might visit Our Sister Sophia and go hunting with her. Or play with her dogs. Send your reply to our Mahle residence. Your letter will reach me wherever I am from there._

_Your dear sister who prays for your continuous health,_

_Charlotte_

Charlotte finished the copy of her letter and then left it lying on her desk. 

Stupid Leo, preferring his alliance to his Royal Brother Francis to her and her Brother! She would show him. He hadn’t even believed her when she said that she was so ill from his behaviour, that she had to leave. 

“On second thought,” she said as she folded and sealed the copy of her letter, “Annete,” she told her most trusted friend and Lady-in-Waiting, “Let him find this in three days.”

Annette took it. “Oh, Charlotte Lotte,” she said as she hugged her, “I hope you will have a safe trip.”

“I hope so too.” She smiled. “Brother Elik really had the best idea. When your husband is being so disagreeable, you can’t just go to another palace in your country. You have to leave the country completely.”

“And what better place to go than the Court of Queen Sophia! You will have so much fun there!”

She nodded, smiling. As if she would go there! No, she would go to Ada’s family and stir them against Francis the Liar, who thought he could attack her dearest Brother, and Fredrik, the Fiendish Creep! Daring to touch her hand without gloves as if she were not a married woman! Creep!

&*&*

Roman tried not to laugh as Viktor paced around the library. Sila did, though. “You act like a caged animal, Viktor.”

Viktor stopped and frowned at them. “I am bored.”

“Then read a book.”

“I thought I liked romances, but after two days of reading nothing but romances, I find them boring.”

“We can bring you something else,” Roman suggested.

“Like what?” Viktor made a face. “I wish I had realized earlier what I was getting into, when I agreed to this.”

“Would you have denied the Captain?” Sila asked him, shocked. 

“No, of course not,” Viktor replied, “But I might have asked for….” He stopped and sighed. 

“For what?”

“Some training equipment to put in one of the you-can-do-whatever-you-want rooms.”

Roman laughed. “We can get that.”

“How? His Majesty is too severely injured to exercise,” Viktor smirked. 

Roman smiled. “Yes, but we aren’t.”

“And, when His Majesty starts getting better, he will need the exercise to build up his strength,” Sila grinned. 

Viktor looked at them gratefully. “Thanks. Ah, I really pity His Majesty. To be trapped in the palace. What does it matter if every one of his wishes can get fulfilled before he finishes saying it, if he cannot even leave his rooms without escorts?” He picked up a book and sat down. “I can’t wait for him to recover so I can go back to my duties. I had more freedom as a private when everyone ordered me around, than he will ever have.”

Roman and Sila sat down as well. 

“Yes, he seems trapped,” Sila said, “but he is not like us. He was raised for this life.”

“Yes, he is the youngest Elder of Quhjan and royalty among them.”

“Doesn’t that mean rich peasant?”

“Oh, no,” Roman huffed. “Let me tell you all about it.”

Sila nodded. “Yes, please do tell! People have so many wrong ideas about our Young Lord. That must stop!”

“I admit, I never expected an Imperial Consort to be able to handle a sword that well. Nor to believe in justice like we do,” Viktor smiled, putting the book down. “So, do tell, Master Roman, what does Quhjani royalty really mean?”

&*&*

Ekaterina looked at Filon and Artyom, sleeping in one half of the bed curled around each other like puppies seeking warmth. She caressed Mark’s chest. 

“Hm?” he smiled at her. 

“Do you think they…” She started and then shook her head. No, that was not a question to ask while they were in the same room. 

Mark glanced at them. “They are cute,” he smiled as he stretched his arm and caressed Filon’s back. 

Filon turned in his sleep and hugged Mark. Artyom shrugged. 

“They are handsome,” she smiled. “Did you write to Vasya about Nikolaj’s anger problems?”

Mark nodded. 

“Do you really think that Elik will allow Nikolaj to have other lovers?” she asked him, caressing Filon’s hand where he hugged her husband. 

“Frankly?” Mark grinned, “No. But I hope that Nikolaj will agree to have Elik with him on his campaigns. Or, better yet,” he smiled, “That he will settle down for a few years. Just until his great passion wanes.”

“You think it will?” She let out a tiny huff. “Vasya and Grisha have been together for sixteen years, and their passion has not waned at all. Vasya even put Grisha above his duty to His Majesty.”

“Vasya knew that His Majesty will be safe while Francis’ men think he is about to die. And, if he really had put Grisha above his duty, he could have submitted his resignation instead of asking for a leave.”

“That is not my point. My point is, if they are still so crazy about each other, then why should His Majesty stop being crazy about Elik?” She grinned. “And Elik is just so lovely.”

“And he does kiss most sweetly.”

“Mark, do you want him?”

“Ekaterina, do you want him?” Mark grinned. “No, he’s sweet, but I’d rather have my boys and you.” He caressed Filon’s head. “They are both practical and reasonable, and are willing to try anything that could be fun.”

“And when they like something, they are happy to do it again,” Ekaterina grinned.

Artyom shifted and hugged Filon. 

“I was thinking,” Mark told her quietly.

“Yes?”

“I do not like that they stand behind me like servants during lunches and dinners and other functions.”

“They stand behind you as your Guards.”

“I would like them to be able to sit with us at court, and not behind me,” Mark said. 

“Ah, I see.” She frowned for a moment. “But, Mark, in order for them to sit with us, they would have to be ennobled.”

“Yes, so?”

“They wouldn’t be able to serve as His Majesty’s Guards if…”

“Ouch,” Mark gasped. “You pinched me?”

Filon opened his eyes. “I did. Just because you are the Chancellor does not mean that you can decide about our careers without us. Right, Artyom?”

Artyom nodded lazily. 

“You don’t want to be nobles? And sit with us at the Banquet Hall?”

“I wouldn’t,” Filon said. “I’d rather pass my review, get promoted, and…”

“And…”

“I would like to continue working with Intelligence, Sir.”

Artyom nodded. “I also want to get promoted and continue in Intelligence.”

“With all respect, Sir, being a low-ranking noble who has no other occupation seems…”

“Boring,” Artyom muttered. 

“Yes, sitting at the garden, doing nothing better than painting us naked?”

“Not that I mind,” Artyom smiled. “Maxim is right; there is no shame in nakedness.”

“Especially when you know that people see you, and imagine you naked,” Filon smirked. 

“Even His Majesty knows that and doesn’t care when he is naked!”

Mark grinned. “I can’t decide if such frankness should be punished or rewarded,” he told them.

“Definitely rewarded,” Ekaterina smiled. 

“Fine. Boys, how would you like to be rewarded?”

Filon grinned. “I would like to teased over and over, and then made to come.”

“And I would like to be made to come over and over.”

Ekaterina laughed. “But that was your punishment yesterday.”

“No,” they protested. “Yesterday, you made me come over and over,” Filon said, smiling widely. 

“And you teased me for ages!” Artyom grinned. 

“Yesterday was punishment!” They said again.

“If everyone is getting rewarded, may I also reward myself?”

They looked at Mark. 

“How?”

“Let me see…” he grinned. 

Ekaterina shivered with anticipation. Oh, he was definitely going to tie her up, wasn’t he? How wonderful!

&*&*

“Sire? A messenger from the Capital.”

That took them long enough. These last few days, the messenger had made their lunch unpalatable, but this time, not only had he made them lose all appetite all day by making them wait and wait, he’d come just as they had started pretending to have dinner at six. Was that a good or a bad thing?

Nikolaj gestured for everyone but those who already knew the whole extent of the mess to leave them. Why did Grisha allow the two Guards in the room was beyond him, but he didn’t override his command to have them stay. They knew everything, after all. “Another of your men, Grisha?”

He nodded. “Ivan, what news?”

Ivan came forward and gave him a letter, before giving one to Count Bitoulin. 

“Surely I can read that,” he said.

“Do you want to?” 

He shook his head. “So, what news do you bring us?”

By the time Ivan had finished, his Generals seemed more than excited. 

“See? It is important that one studies history,” General Loviljin grinned.

General Mrishsnan nodded. “So, how exactly does the torch system work? And do you have someone with you that can actually show us how it works?”

“Yes, what are we waiting for?” General Davin asked them as he tried to get up. 

Nikolaj cleared his throat. “Later. My Most Gracious Consort danced the Sword Dance with Vasya and his Guards while eight regiments sang _For the freedom of our land, we stand together_?”

Ivan grinned. “Oh, Yes. Sire, you should have seen them. It was marvellous!” 

Major Kamenski nodded. “If he has found someone to dance it as well as he danced it with Radu….” he sighed. “How I wish I had seen that. Elder Alexandrov was a flame when he danced it then, but now it seems that he’s become a fire. Ah.”

Grisha nodded. “Vasya had written how stunned everyone at Deep Port had been when he danced it there. But to dance it with his men! Ah, how I wish I had seen that.”

“Is it true that the sword dance is really a demonstration of sword techniques?” General Mrishsnan asked.

Major Kamenski nodded. He stood up, and unsheathed his sword. “Yes. Downward slash, upward thrust,” he demonstrated slowly. “Switch hand when injured. Defense against arrows. Defense against swords. Side strike right to left. Side strike left to right.”

Nikolaj stared at him. That was not the issue. “He danced it while everyone sang a revolutionary song,” he huffed. 

Major Kamenski glared at him as he took his seat. 

“He joined the mutiny that was permanently stalled, what did you expect?” Grisha snorted. 

Fuck. He had been expecting this for days, why was he behaving with such surprise? He started laughing. “Fuck, that is so true. Ah,” he sighed. “I wish I will see him dance it one day.” 

Grisha nodded, smiling. The man looked better, only because he felt relief, Nikolaj realised. 

“I can teach you how to dance it, if you want,” Major Kamenski offered seriously. “As long as you allow us to sing _For the freedom of our land, we stand together_ while I do it.”

“Your Most Gracious Consort would like that,” Grisha told him with a soft smile. “Could you teach me too? I would like to dance it with Vasya.”

Major Kamenski gave him a bright smile. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Nikolaj smiled at them. It would be a good idea, and his Elik would like it, he too was certain of it. “Perhaps you can teach us together,” he said. 

“I would like nothing more.”

“Ivan, you must have letters for your Brothers,” Nikolaj told him. “Why don’t you deliver them?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The moment he left, Nikolaj opened the letter for him and started laughing. “Vasya writes that he sent a team so he won’t be joining us. He’s still angry.”

Grisha looked a little disappointed. 

“He may still come,” Nikolaj told him kindly. “What news do you have?”

Count Bitoulin read the letter quickly. “His Majesty joined the mutiny because of the assassins lurking at Ivanhof. Lesnev thought he’d be safer at the Barracks, and…” Count Bitoulin looked at him seriously. “They sent a man physically resembling His Majesty at Ivanhof and within hours he was attacked.”

Nikolaj stopped smiling. “I thought he had that threat under control.”

“They have no idea how men Francis has sent. The investigation was in progress when the message was sent.”

Nikolaj groaned. “My love will be safer here. I wonder, did he get my message to join me?”

General Mrishsnan stood up. “But, Sire, perhaps we can ask! If only you had let Ivan answer my question about the torch system!” he glared at him. 

Nikolaj stood up as well. “Get that man back! We need to know now!”

An hour later, they were standing with Ivan and his team behind a set of wooden screens. “Ready, Sire,” Ivan told them.

“What do we ask?” 

“Let’s see if it works first.” 

Grisha chuckled. “Ivan, can you send the following message? ‘Hey, testing’?”

Nikolaj laughed. “Yes, why not?”

Ivan raised two torches over the screen. Soon they saw the reply, two columns of smoke rising from the south. 

“How… Ivan, continue, please!” General Loviljin shouted excitedly. “Sire, this has not been used in over a thousand years. We are watching a piece of history, adapted for use in the present!”

Fascinated, he watched as Ivan and his team raised and lowered torches while consulting a book. “How did you do… “

“We started practicing as soon as Team Text devised the grid for our alphabet. It is not that difficult to learn how to do it, although we are still slow. The Co… the Major then stationed trained men in different points on the road from here to the Capital. In the next weeks, this will be rolled out throughout the Empire, but this road was priority.” Ivan smiled at Grisha. “The Co… I mean, the Major was really determined to get news from here as quickly as possible, so how could we not practice as hard as we could?”

Nikolaj smiled. How lucky he was that two of the most dangerous men in the Empire were on his side! He had to keep them happy and satisfied and by his side forever! “Do we have a reply?”

“Yes, Sire. ‘Hello, testing.’”

Grisha looked disappointed for a moment. “Ask about His Majesty’s health.”

Torches went up and down again for several minutes, and the more Ivan and his team decoded the answering message, the grimmer their expressions became. 

“What is it?” Nikolaj finally asked when it was clear that they had received the message, but refused to tell him. 

Ivan took a deep breath, glancing at Grisha as if he wanted the man to protect him. “Sire, His Majesty was injured.”

He froze. “What?” 

“Assassin, Shrine. That’s what they communicated.”

Nikolaj sat down on the ground. His darling must have gone to the Shrine either to ask Luck to help Nikolaj or to thank their Honoured Ancestors for the peaceful end of the mutiny. Probably the latter, considering everything that had happened. And then… “What…” He cut himself off, glancing at Grisha and seeing the same miserable expression on his face that he too must have had. He didn’t have to ask what Vasya had been doing. 

Vasya had been trying to protect Elik from Francis’ men for weeks. If anything had happened to Elik under his watch, he wouldn’t take it well. 

Grisha sat down next to him. 

“Did we lose them?” he asked him quietly.

“I don’t know,” Grisha whispered, and looking like he was about to start crying. “He didn’t reply.”

“Eh? How do you know that?” General Loviljin asked him. 

“I know,” Grisha told them miserably. He suddenly tried to raise himself up and the two Guards rushed to his side and helped him. “Fuck this. Nikolaj, let’s get drunk as if we are fucking Stanjinskis at their Summer party.”

He wondered if he looked like Grisha, more dead than living, and he nodded. Major Kamenski gave his hand and he took it, surprised by the man’s strength when he pulled him up. “But if I am angry tomorrow…”

“I’ll make you Vas…” he shuddered. “I have a good cure for the day after. Or we’ll just continue drinking. That also works.”

He nodded. That worked for him.

“Sire, we are at war,” Count Bitoulin told him frantically. “You cannot get as drunk as a partying Stanjinski.”

Nikolaj glared at him. 

“Yes, he can, and so do we,” General Loviljin said. “If anything happened to Vasya,” he said miserably, and Grisha hugged him. 

General Mrishsnan stood still as Grisha hugged him next. “We can,” he agreed.

Grisha sighed deeply when he let him go. “His Excellency is right. We can’t.”

Nikolaj stared at him. “Grisha,” he moaned. His poor love was hurt and … what if he had sent Grisha on the 19th to Ustvela? They would have been at Svjetlski Castle already, yet… they could not have prevented the assassins for attacking his love. This was not his fault. But why did he feel like it was? And why this despair inside him wouldn’t stop?

“I can stay sober,” General Davin said. “And so can the men. Don’t tell me,” he asked the men that surrounded them, “that you will not guard Grisha and His Majesty with your lives while they…” he cut himself off.

“They mourn, you can say it,” Grisha muttered. “I’m trying to think if Vasya would approve of this, and I can’t think of fucking anything,” he whispered. 

Nikolaj wanted to hug him so badly. “Can you ask about Lesnev?” he told Ivan with a sigh. “I keep forgetting that now we can ask and get an immediate answer,” he said, giving them all a tired smile.   
“It’s too new to remember that we can use it,” Grisha smiled at him. “But it is not right to abuse army resources for private matters.”

“Vasya is a most trusted officer and a valuable asset. How he is, is not a private matter, but one of state security,” Nikolaj told him, half-lying, half-honestly. He was also his chosen brother’ favourite young cousin – didn’t that make him his younger cousin too? “Go ahead, Ivan. Ask them,” he said, overriding Grisha’s implicit command. 

“Lesnev on leave,” Ivan told them a while later. 

Grisha seemed shocked. “What does that mean? On leave?”

General Loviljin shrugged. “When he served under my command, he only took leave on your anniversaries so he could be with you,” he said quietly. 

“What does this mean?” Grisha asked again, looking lost and confused. “He never takes leaves on his own.”

“Perhaps he is coming to see you, Sir,” the tenor, no, Evgeni, said, his voice full of hope. 

“He wouldn’t abandon his duty,” Grisha replied without hesitation.

“But with His Majesty injured,” the fierce one, Carel, started, “Perhaps…” He looked at Nikolaj apologetically, “Perhaps there is nothing he can do there,” he said quietly. 

The empty feeling inside him grew. “Fuck it, Grisha. My thoughts are dark, and each thought is darker than the earlier one I had. Let’s get drunk.” He looked at General Davin. “Since you volunteered not to drink, you will take command of the army, if Fredrik’s army attacks. Not that I expect them too. Kamenski?”

“The scouts reported no enemy presence nearby, as you know.”

“Exactly. By the time the news reaches them and they move against us, We should be sober.”

“Or maybe they still expect you to turn back,” Grisha told him. 

Nikolaj nodded. Perhaps they should start moving from the following day. Since His One and Only were injured, he wouldn’t come visit him. He sighed. How much he had hoped to explain everything in person, and ask his love to forgive him. Now he would have to use written words and…

He shivered. What if his darling didn’t make it? 

He felt his eyes burn with the tears he was trying to hold back. 

Fucking Francis and Fucking Fredrik were right; if he continued like this, he would break when …. If … no, he didn’t want to think of his darling gone. 

Grisha suddenly hugged him for a moment. “Let’s go have that drink, Nikolaj, and…”

“Yes?”

“May I have your permission to wait here? If he’s coming to find me?” 

He nodded. “Yes, but you know, I’ve been thinking…. Can we move the army quietly across Oerestand?”

“Excuse me?”

“We do need to start moving again but I don’t want to move. I want to wait here for news,” he told them, knowing he sounded like a child. “If the army can move stealthily towards the Capital, We can catch up to them in a few days.”

“They are too many and in enemy territory to move stealthily effectively,” Grisha told him. 

“I really am too unwell to move,” he told them honestly.

“Then we wait until you are better,” General Davin said, though his expression showed that he didn’t like the idea much.

“We are going around in circles,” Nikolaj sighed. “Tomorrow. We will discuss this tomorrow. For now, let’s offer incense to Luck for my Most Precious.” He glanced at Grisha. “And maybe have one drink to his health. One!” He smiled at him. “See, I am listening.” It just took hours for his mind to understand what his ears heard sometimes.

Grisha nodded. “And one to Vasya’s health? I have no idea what that ‘on leave’ means.”

Nikolaj smiled. He wouldn’t mind that!

&*&*

Unlike the previous evening, a letter from His Husband awaited them in the safehouse. After washing and eating and getting ready for the night and the day after, Elik finally picked it up and opened it slowly.

Feeling everyone stare at him, he read it. “He writes that he wants me to go to the camp so he can explain everything in person.”

Vasya smiled at him. “And now, you won’t have to punch him.”

“Why not?”

“Elik,” Vasya told him with a serious expression, “Aren’t you tired of holding this anger inside you? He is not perfect, but he knows it. He knows he made a mistake, and he is trying to fix it. Won’t you stop being angry and give him a chance when you see him?”

“Why are you excusing him?”

“I am not. I am saying that, if you continue being that angry at him, you will not listen to him when he tries to explain and… is that what you want?”

Elik grimaced. “I don’t know what I want. I want to stop…” He sighed. “What he did, hurt me,” he admitted in front of his brothers. “I want to stop hurting and I want retribution.”

“You want justice?” Maxim asked him. 

“I guess so.”

Vasya smiled. “What retribution would you want, then?” He took out his notebook, cut out a page and gave it to him together with his pencil. “Write everything. What hurts and what will make it better.”

“You’re giving me homework again,” he grinned. 

“I want you to stop being angry, Elik. Anger makes you not trust others and, for someone like you, a life without others will be far too miserable. And, if you do love your husband, life without him will be unbearable.” Vasya stared at him. “Do you love him?”

Elik nodded. He did, but he wasn’t sure that Nikolaj loved him back anymore.

“And he loves you. He’s trying, Elik. Don’t let anger make you deaf to his words and blind to his behaviour.”

“You are defending him,” he complained. 

“Perhaps. It’s just that, what is the point of your anger?” Vasya smiled at him. “Do your homework.” He turned and went out to the garden. 

Maxim shared a look with the others. They all nodded and Maxim ran out, shouting. “Captain, if Private Alexandrov passes his review, can we have pancakes for breakfast?”

Elik stared at them. “What?”

“Know yourself,” they all told him. 

“What’s the point of your emotions?” Vadim laughed. 

Andrik nodded, smiling. “Where do your emotions come from?” 

“Know them, understand them, acknowledge them,” they all grinned. 

“And most of all,” Maxim laughed from the door, “Don’t let them lead you astray and lose track of your mission.”

“What’s your mission, Private Alexandrov?” Vasya smiled, appearing next to Maxim. “To punch your man?”

Elik stared at them, suddenly realising why Nikolaj’s actions had felt like such a betrayal. He’d thought that they were finally Equals, one mind in two bodies. Nikolaj then acted as if Elik was still his replaceable bed slave, preferring his ‘noble’ ideas to him. 

Ah, indeed, what would be the point of punching him? He didn’t want to hurt Nikolaj. He wanted Nikolaj to acknowledge him as his true One and Only, his Equal, his Love that he needed as much as Elik needed him.

“To get him, and make him mine,” he told them fiercely. 

They stared at him, grinning. 

“Fuck, I should have brought my diamond dress,” he smiled. “He loves that thing on me.”

Maxim snorted. “He loves you, not that thing.”

“We all saw that at Sorain!” Valery smiled. 

“You did, didn’t you?” Elik asked them and they nodded. “So, how do I get him?” 

“I am certain that you have him already,” Vasya told him, still smiling. 

That wasn’t very helpful. He huffed. He would much rather have a plan. 

“He wouldn’t ask you to meet him if he didn’t feel remorseful,” Vasya said. 

“He did write that he is confused. But loving.”

“See?” Maxim grinned. “He is eager to explain himself because he loves you.”

Elik smiled at them. “I still wish I had a plan to make him crazy about me. I was going to use the diamond dress,” he told them, “but now…”

“Do you really want to be dressed up as something you are not?” Vasya asked him. 

“Eh?”

“That dress is marvellous, from what I have heard, but Sire, you are not his doll to dress. You are Elik Alexandrov, of Quhjan and Bosilke, descendant of Great Dukes, Consort of Imperial Rank, and Regent.”

His Brothers cheered at that. 

“Hm. I didn’t bring any of my robes of state, though. Or even any nice suits.”

Vasya smiled at him. “I brought them for you. Including your ancestral sword and torque. Sire, your visit at His Majesty’s camp is the perfect opportunity to present you as one of the oldest nobles in the Empire. If that goes well, then we will repeat the play at Ivanhof.”

He and his brothers stared at Vasya. Fuck, he was more than sneaky!

“Fuck, you are sneaky,” Vadim muttered.

“Language.”

“Does this mean that we get pancakes for breakfast?” Maxim grinned.

“What do you think?”

Elik grinned. They were definitely having pancakes for breakfast, even though Vasya’s expression was carefully blank. He had to get up early and steal that recipe!

&*&*

“Vasya?” Elik asked him softly. 

Vasily turned towards him. “Yes?”

“How did you know my mission before I did?”

Valery snorted softly and the others were trying so hard not to make a sound, that he knew they were also listening intently.

“I didn’t. I just prepared for different eventualities,” he smiled. 

“Oh. Are you sure you are not a witch?” Elik asked him even more quietly. 

“Elik,” he laughed. “Yes, I am sure.” 

“Oh.” Somehow, Elik sounded a little disappointed? Or like he didn’t believe him. “And what is your mission?”

“To see Grisha, of course, and talk to him.” He smiled. “Our wedding anniversary is in a few weeks. I refuse to spend it either away from him or not knowing his truth.”

Elik sighed. “Ah, I really want Nikolaj and me to be like you and Grisha one day.”

“Why?” he asked, surprised. Grisha and he were the most ordinary people in the world. 

“Because you put Grisha first.”

“No, I put our relationship first. You also do that, or you wouldn’t be here, and His Majesty is also trying his best to do it, only…”

“Yes?”

“He’s not used to being Equal to anyone but his Royal Brothers, whom he didn’t have to please the way he must please you. Give him time and help him learn what he doesn’t know.”

“You’re really trying to…” Elik stopped before saying that he was trying to excuse His Majesty. 

“To me, he was caring before, and fair after I became Lesnev, and he saved Grisha’s life. I owe him and…” He turned and lay on his back again. “A few days ago, when I was certain you would punish for my crimes as it was right, I realized that I didn’t want to die with anger or bitterness. I thought, love too is a hindrance to peace and freedom, but I would rather have love in my heart than hatred or anger or … anything else but love, really. And, strangely enough, that decision also brought peace.” He smiled. “Love truly is more wonderful than any words can express.”

He heard Elik smile. “What is this peace you talk about?”

“A sense of inner calmness, where nothing can touch you, nothing can hurt you, nothing can anger you, nothing can drive you mad, nothing can sadden you. Imagine an endless sea, calm on the surface, and deep. That is peace. But better because it really is… It is.”

He heard Maxim make a soft sound and Elik smile again. 

Elik couldn’t understand because he was too young and full of passion, and Maxim could understand all too well. “It’s late, and we should try to get some sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow. I can’t have you stealing my pancakes recipe, Private Alexandrov!”

“So you think, Captain. Private Alexandrov is on a mission, and I will not anything distract me!”

Chuckling, he closed his eyes. Who knew what the morning would bring; perhaps Private Alexandrov would really manage to get up before him!


	76. Chapter 76

4th 

Vassily ran into the Council meeting room. “Sorry, I’m late, but you will never believe this! Yesterday evening, they used the torch system effectively!”

Everyone clapped. 

“And who used it and why?” Pavel asked, grinning.

“And what did they say?” Adam nodded.

“The men at His Majesty’s camp. They asked,” he opened his folder as soon as he sat down and read. “‘Hey, testing.’ ‘Hello, testing.’ ‘How is HM’s health’. ‘Injured, assassin, shrine.’” He stopped smiling. 

“Oh. Everyone out.”

Mark forced himself to smile. “I told you we should start the meetings alone and then let the staff in,” he snorted. The moment they were alone, he allowed himself to groan. 

“Fuck,” Pavel and Dima said at the same time. 

Vassily nodded. 

“Clearly, we have to send them a message with the truth.”

Mark nodded at Adam’s suggestion. Nikolaj would be … he couldn’t imagine how Nikolaj would be after receiving that. 

“But what? No one is supposed to know that His Majesty is well.”

“We have to send it in code,” Pavel said. “The way they are using a code for the torch signals.”

“Yes, but a code needs to be known to both sender and receiver,” Vassily replied.

Mark stood up, grinning as he remembered Nikolaj’s hatred of all things fantastical. “I know. His Guards call His Majesty ‘Merman’, and he knows it. He will recognize the code.”

“So, we just need to say, ‘Merman fine, coming to HM?’”

“Too obvious,” Vassily protested. “Not the merman part, the ‘coming to HM’.”

He nodded. 

Adam suddenly smiled. “Remember how Nikolaj would brag that he has such a sweet wife, claiming that Nikolaj is his home? We can say ‘Merman fine, coming home’. Nikolaj should understand that, shouldn’t he?”

They all nodded. “He really has a very sweet wife,” Pavel smirked. “Very un-Bosilik too, insisting on monogamy and going to see his husband at the battlefield, but he will learn our ways, once he stops traveling all the time.”

“That would be nice,” Dima said, “but don’t you think that maybe it will be us who will change?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s bringing the Lesnevs at court, and they are also monogamous and very persuasive, from all accounts.”

And if Mavra and Mark had their way and Vasya became Head of the Stanjinski House, as he should have become instead of Sasha, then all the Stanjinskis would do as he did – or told them too. There would be a whole faction of courtiers supporting monogamy! Hm… he had to make sure that monogamy was an option, not the rule! Fuck, why hadn’t he thought of that when he wrote to Vasya the previous day? 

“They are,” Vassily sighed.

“I disagree,” Adam said, “As romance-like as they are, I wouldn’t like living the way they do. Or having their poverty.” He shivered. 

Dima looked at Mark. “They are not that poor now, nor for the last few years,” Mark said. “They live in a house without servants by choice.” 

Vassily sighed again. “Romance.”

“So, with His Majesty promoting monogamy, the Lesnevs being persuasive, and us wanting to abolish slavery, don’t you think that our Bosilik ways will be different in a generation or two?” Dima asked them. “Already, everyone I have spoken to is delighted with the idea of a mixed court and doesn’t want to go back to having two separate ones.”

Adam nodded. “It’s also easier to choose a lover together with your One and Only like that.” He grinned at them. “Free people are far superior lovers than slaves. Slavery is an evil that must be eradicated, friends!”

“Free people or Guards?” Pavel asked him knowingly. 

Adam laughed, nodding.

Dima sighed. “Mavra says we can’t have Guards.”

“Eh?” Adam frowned. “Why not?”

Dima shook his head. “I have no idea what she means by that, but what can I do but agree with her?”

Pavel looked at him sympathetically. “I can recommend them, though. They know what they are doing.”

Mark nodded enthusiastically. 

“And that Maxim, apparently, knows everything,” Pavel sighed…. “To bad he only likes dark-haired men.”

“That can’t be helped, though, right?”

Pavel nodded, still looking disappointed that he had not had a chance to be with the famous Maxim. 

Mark smiled. “Ah, all this is fun, but who knows how we will change? Let’s get Their Majesties back at court first,” and his cousins, “and then we will see. So, ‘Merman fine, coming home’?”

They nodded. 

How he hoped that Nikolaj had not done something very stupid between that message and this one!

&*&*

Grigori heard familiar footsteps, but refused to open his eyes. He was comfortable where he was, wherever that was. Or rather, on whomever he was. He could feel hard muscles under his arm and a soft snore over his head. 

“Sir?” Evgeni said very quietly. “There are letters for you.”

He opened his eyes and saw Evgeni all red in the face and not looking at him. He glanced down and barely kept himself from shouting with shock as he hurried as far away from His Majesty as possible and everything span around him. His Majesty really had ended up crying in his arms after they had finished their last bottle of wine of life, and then they had found some beer and after that…. Ah, fuck…. His back hurt, his head hurt, and his stomach wanted to leave through his mouth. 

His Majesty made a strange noise, shifted, and continued sleeping peacefully. 

Evgeni still refused to look at him. Grigori looked around him and saw Carel look equally awkward, while Count Bitoulin and Isidor had turned their backs on him. General Loviljin was also on the floor, sleeping next to General Mrishsnan, their backs touching. 

“Have you never seen drunken men before?” He asked them as he rubbed his eyes. “Is there any coffee? And can I have those letters?”

“Shut up,” His Majesty grumbled. 

“News from the Capital, Sir,” he told him softly. “And letters for you, Sire.”

“Who the fuck cares? My darling is injured. Ah…” His Majesty made a strange sound as he rolled on his back and looked at them. “I dreamt that Mark was here, telling me that everything would be fine,” he sighed.

Who else would His Majesty dream but Mark when he was in need of reassurance? Why could he never remember his dreams? 

“Did someone mention coffee?”

Oleg ran out as fast as he could. 

“No news before coffee,” His Majesty said. “Grisha, you said you have a cure for this?”

Evgeni finally helped him up. His stomach rolled inside him a couple of times but he managed not to throw up. 

“I do. I will be back as soon as I prepare it, Sire.”

“Thanks.”

He huffed. “Fucking Stanjinskis.” What had he been thinking, trying to drink like them? He was quite proud of himself, though; he’d drank almost as much as that time he’d thrown up on Vasya and he could still walk on his own. Mostly. 

His Majesty snorted behind him. “Next year, we will go to their Summer Party and show them how to drink, my friend!”

&*&*

His Majesty scrunched his nose at the smell. 

He ate another piece of meat sighing happily. It was good. As good as … he sighed. “Think of it as cold soup,” Grigori told him encouragingly, trying not to think of his Vasya. What did ‘on leave’ mean? 

“With vinegar and pickle juice,” His Majesty protested. Still, he took a small spoonful and tried the mixture. “Bleurgh.”

General Loviljin also made a face after he tried it. “I never could stand the taste of this, but it works.”

“I prefer a steam bath, but this will have to do,” General Mrishsnan said. 

Grigori nodded. “Indeed. And for lunch, we will be having something fitting for our current state.”

“What lunch? Dinner, you mean,” His Majesty huffed. “It’s noon already.”

General Loviljin looked up. “Not the Mystery Meat and Pickles soup.”

Grigori nodded as he drank some of the liquid inside his bowl. It was sour and salty, just as he liked it.

“I am never drinking again,” General Loviljin declared.

“Yes, that’s for young men only,” General Mrishsnan smiled. “My head hurts.”

General Davin shook his head. “You should have joined me and the men for tea and cards.”

Grigori and His Majesty both snorted. 

“I am glad I had coffee before this,” said His Majesty. “Who has lamb and vinegar in the morn… noon?”

“Fucking Stanjisnkis,” they all told him.

Evgeni chuckled.

“What’s so funny, young man?”

“Nothing, Sire.”

“Didn’t you ever have to eat this shit? You were partying all night every night when you were traveling with my darling.” 

Evgeni and Carel shook their heads. “We were on duty during those parties, Sire. We drank a little,” Evgeni grinned. 

“But we mostly made others drink!” Carel laughed.

His Majesty smiled miserably. “When my darling gets well, we will all have a party. He will get well, won’t he? Lesnev wouldn’t leave him alone if he were seriously injured. Would he?”

Grigori shook his head. He had no idea what Vasya was doing. They always discussed going on leaves, but the times they actually took them were few. They both liked their work too much, and taking leave meant special time together. Vasya wouldn’t take a leave on his own! 

“So, what news from the Capital?” His Majesty said after he had finished his soup. 

It was strange hearing Isidor tell them how the mutiny was resolved and how His Majesty had been severely injured and taken at Ivanhof, where he was recovering at their retreat. The whole army, not just around the Capital, but at each point where Isidor had stopped, had been notified to offer incense for his swift recovery.

Grigori could see how His Majesty was even more miserable than he’d been the day before. Fuck, he shouldn’t have given him the cure for the days after drinking, they should have continued drinking the moment they had woken up. The man looked like he needed a drink, and so did he. 

Why was Vasya on leave if His Majesty there had been severely injured? It made no sense. 

Isidor finished his report and then handed them their letters. 

Grigori looked at his miserably. Letters from Vasya at this point were probably not good news. 

“Please, leave us alone,” His Majesty said. “Not you, Grisha. You can stay.”

Grigori sighed. He wanted to read his letter in peace, and not in front of His Majesty. What if he ended up crying in His Majesty’s arms that day? He felt the way he’d felt when the great whip had flayed his back, only everywhere. He nodded at Evgeni and Carel. He didn’t want them to see him cry if he did that. 

“We also got a message a couple of hours ago,” Count Bitoulin said after everyone had left, and he was about to leave as well. “Merman fine. Coming home. I think they are playing a joke on us,” he sighed, looking exhausted. 

Grigori froze. 

So did His Majesty. “Merman fine, you said?” 

“Yes, Sire.”

He smiled slowly. “Thank you, Your Excellency. Please, tell the men to continue making offerings for my darling’s health.” The moment the door was closed, he grinned at Grigori. “You know what that means? Merman is how Vasya and the Guards call my love. He’s fine.” He hurriedly opened the letter and read it. “Grisha, he’s fine! He wrote it himself! And Mark writes that this is all a ploy to make Francis’ men stop attacking him.” 

He stood up, walked up to Grisha and clasped his hands, grinning. “Marvellous news, Grisha! Marvellous! And he’s coming to me! Grisha! He’s coming to me!” He sighed with relief. “Clearly, we must keep everything a secret, but, Grisha! He’s fine!”

Grisha smiled tiredly. That was some good news, finally! Praise be to Luck! But what about Vasya? Why hadn’t Mark written him? 

He let him go. “What does he write to you? Our Vasya?”

“He…” He broke the seal on the letter from the 28th, unfolded it, and started reading. Perhaps that was what ‘on leave’ meant. Why couldn’t he fly to him? Why hadn’t they been born birds? He shuddered. He should keep hope in his heart but how could he, when Vasya himself had none? 

“Grisha?” He asked him with obvious worry. 

He sighed. “Vasya writes that he…” He took a deep breath. “He writes that he loves me,” he said, knowing he sounded as despondent as he felt. 

“You don’t sound happy.”

Grigori felt tears in his eyes. “He writes that he knows that he committed treason and he’s ready to be punished when the mess is over.” He sat on the floor because everything started spinning around him again and his legs wouldn’t hold him up. “The mess is over, Sire,” he whispered, feeling like someone was squeezing his heart. 

His Majesty joined him on the floor. “Perhaps the other letter has better news?”

He opened that and read it. “No. He writes that he…” He sighed. He didn’t want their properties or their garden or anything without Vasya. He didn’t even want the kittens without him. “Do you think ‘on leave’ means that he’s in prison now, awaiting his execution for treason?”

His Majesty stood up and walked out of the room. “Find out where Lesnev is! And message the Capital that he is pardoned for his part in the mutiny, damn it!” He closed the doors and came back to him. “I am certain he is fine.”

Grigori looked at him hopelessly. What if that pardon were too late? What if His Majesty there had followed the law, as he ought to? 

“Mark wouldn’t let his favourite little cousin die. Nor would my darling. You wouldn’t believe how often he mentions Vasya in his letters.” He smiled as he sat down next to Grigori. “If I didn’t know Vasya, I would be worried.”

Grigori smiled. “I too would be worried if I didn’t know him. Vasya is devoted to him.”

His Majesty frowned. “Grisha? Do you think we should be worried?”

Grigori closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. What new stupidity was this? He looked at him, taking another deep breath and fighting back the urge to call him an idiot. “Of course, not.”

He nodded. “You are right. I am foolish for even thinking it. My darling burns with so much love for me, he probably hasn’t even noticed how handsome Vasya is.”

Grigori stared at him for a second. He thought that Vasya was handsome? Had he considered taking Vasya in his bed, perhaps? 

“Oh, Grisha,” he laughed loudly, “Your expression! One would think I had tried seducing your husband, from the way you glare at me.” 

He looked down, feeling embarrassed. He didn’t like the idea of anyone making advances on his Vasya even when he knew that Vasya would turn them down. 

“And my darling’s Guards refused to look at me today, as if they think that I tried seducing you,” he continued laughing. “They did catch us sleeping together!”

“Nothing happened,” he growled.

“I know, Grisha, I know, but who knows what they think. Or do. His Majesty’s Special Guards are famous for their licentiousness, after all.”

“They are forward and honest, Sire, not licentious. Furthermore, Evgeni is a married man, while Carel only cares for Ladies.”

“Ah, I didn’t know that.”

“It is time that young people in our Empire were able to make their own decisions about their lovers and their partners.”

“Instead of marrying whomever their parents choose for them?” he smiled. 

“You didn’t marry whom your Most Noble Mother, the Empress Dowager, had chosen for you at sixteen, nor those whom the Council chose for you,” Grigori smiled back. 

His expression softened. “Ah, yes. Do you know who was my Most Noble Mother’s chosen for me? Nathalia Gorruseva. Vassily was already in love with her, though, Nathalia had feelings for him, and I…” He smiled again. “I was a little in love with someone else. Who loved me back. I couldn’t marry Nathalia and separate her from the man she loved when I too felt the pains of love.”

“Why didn’t you marry the one you loved then?”

“Because…” He shook his head, clearly not wanting to talk about it and smiled again. “Now I am glad that I didn’t. My love for that person was different from what I feel for my darling. You never loved another, so perhaps you don’t understand, but my love for that person was a warm cup of tea. My love for my darling is wine of fire! One is soothing, but the other, ah, how pleasant and intoxicating the other is!”

“I can understand, even though I have not experienced what you have,” he smiled. What was his love for Vasya? When Vasya was away it was a torment, but when he was with him, it was tea and wine of fire and peace all at once. Oh, he understood what His Majesty meant so well.

He smiled. “I think I will wait for him for a few more days. My Merman. Who knows, maybe Vasya is coming with him. Do you think he would leave him to travel on his own? I don’t.”

Grigori felt hope flutter in his chest like the wings of a tiny, little bird. “You think?”

He nodded. “You said it yourself, Vasya is devoted to him. If Vasya is well, he must be with him now.”

“I am so slow these days,” Grigori sighed. “This makes sense.” But if Vasya was…. 

“You are not slow,” His Majesty said quietly. “You are unwell. I shouldn’t have taken you out of the hospital.”

“I was about to leave it when your summons came,” he replied just as softly. “I was going to go to Vasya. These last weeks away from him have been harder than all the months he was traveling to the west.” He didn’t believe in fate or premonitions, but what if these weeks had been hard because he was about to lose him? And Vasya had been so worried about him going to Ustvela. How clearly Vasya didn’t want him to leave… He sighed again. “Shouldn’t you move forward? No one will expect that.”

“But my darling is coming to me,” he whispered. “I don’t want to move before he’s here.”

“It’s already Harvester. Summer will be over soon. Don’t be foolish. You must advance while the weather is still good. If it starts raining soon, the way it did last year, the roads will become muddy and slow you down.”

“You will wait here in the hope that Vasya is coming for you.”

“I’m not leading an army, Sire. I’m an officer on medical leave.”

“Hm. It’s not fair,” he whined. 

Grigori looked at him curiously. 

The knock on the door made them turn. “Enter. Ah, Longin. News about Lesnev?”

Longin tried not to smirk. “Yes, Sire. Still on leave, and when we sent the message that he was pardoned, we got the following reply: ‘Thanks.’” He did smirk at that. 

Grigori frowned. What did that mean? “Why can’t they be more forthcoming?” He stood up slowly. “With your permission, Sire, I would like to continue drinking. My Vasya could be anywhere or nowhere.” 

“He must be fine,” Longin told him. 

“You don’t know that.”

“What if we redid the battle of the Goat Passage? You could lead Team Julianus,” Oleg suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” His Majesty said as he also stood up. “But let’s not have a battle. I would like to see some nice drills. Wouldn’t you?”

“Or we could have a wrestling tournament,” Mir smiled from the door.

“I like that idea,” His Majesty grinned. “Yes, let’s have athletic competitions.”

“Sire, it’s right after lunch. Everyone will be throwing up their food instead of their opponents if they fight now.”

Longin and Mir exchanged a disappointed look. Oleg shrugged, as if to say he’d tried. 

“What if we had a singing contest?” Evgeni asked them quietly. 

Major Kamenski huffed behind Carel. “No. We will offer sacrifices for the health of our king, then we will have a feast, and give some of the sacrificial meat for the preparation of the mystery meat and pickles soup, so that it will become Sacred Mystery Meat, Chicken and Pickles Soup.”

His Majesty took him by the arm and pulled him close to him. “Grisha,” he whispered to him, “everyone is trying to cheer you up, because we all hope that Vasya will be fine, and we want you to hope with us. What do you want us to do?”

He was right; he couldn’t be so miserable in front of everyone. He could do that later, in his room. “Sacrifices and a feast would be nice. Can you show us the Sword Dance again?”

“Of course. Can you share the recipe for the Mystery Meat and Pickles soup? It sounds like something we could use back home.”

&*&*

The appearance of the servant approaching Vassily made everyone in the drawing room stop talking.

“What is it?”

“His Majesty just asked again ‘where is Lesnev’. Clearly, ‘on leave’ is not a good answer.”

“But who knows where he is? He could be anywhere.” And they couldn't reveal his location, since he was traveling with His Majesty, but how could he say that?

Filon leaned down. “Quartermaster Sokolov does.”

“He is the most senior of them, and his right-hand man,” Artyom said. 

Mark nodded and wrote a note. “Perhaps that torch system is not such a great idea,” he smirked. 

“Perhaps we need to have codes for everything,” Adam grinned.

Vassily nodded as he took another bite of cake. 

A servant came and gave a note to Mark. He opened it. _May we have a billiards table? Ilin is going crazy with boredom._

“What is it?”

“The Guards at the Retreat want more things. Why can’t they use their Barracks?” 

“Because they cannot bear to leave the Young Lord alone,” Filon berated him quietly.

He snorted as he wrote down his reply. _We can’t have Ilin grow so bored he will leave the Retreat. You can have anything you wish. Just send all requests to my office from now on._ At least now they would stop bothering him, and could keep ‘His Majesty’ happy.

Ah, young men! 

“His Guards are very devoted to him,” Pavel said admiringly. “Simeon was on Guard duty yesterday afternoon, and he told me how they all tried to alleviate His Majesty’s pain by singing and reading to him.”

The Ladies in the room sighed. “When will we be allowed to see His Majesty?” Princess Olga asked them.

“He is still very weak, and mostly unconscious,” Dima said. “Even we do not dare disturb him.”

“But they read and sing to him,” Princess Xenia observed. 

Filon cleared his throat. “They do it because…”

Everyone seemed to hang by his lips and he reddened. 

“Do go on, young man,” Princess Olga said kindly. 

“He is calmer when he hears singing, and…” Filon sniffled. “When he is in pain, it covers the sound of his cries. Oh, they are most horrible, Your Highness.”

Artyom gave him his handkerchief to wipe his eyes. 

“Our poor, sweet Lord,” Ekaterina said as she stood up. “I cannot bear doing nothing. I am going to offer more incense!” She left the room, her two Ladies-in-waiting sniffling behind her. The other Ladies followed her out hurriedly.

Mark stood up. “Should we join them? Or should we do some more work, so when he is better, he can see how much we have progressed? Adam, you mentioned the dreadful issue of slavery yesterday.”

Everyone stared at him.

“Are you thinking what I think you are thinking?” Ivan, Ekaterina’s brother asked him. “Abolition?”

He nodded. “Gentlemen, His Majesty is keen on this issue. Perhaps if he hears that we have made progress, that will make him feel better!”

“And we need to be able to continue fucking Guards,” Pavel said. “They are wonderful, but insist they are free men. Soon, they will not accept any more to be fucked under the pretext of being His Majesty’s slaves, whom he graciously shares with us.” He glanced at Filon and Artyom. “And I say to you all, I have never had such good fucks with my slaves. I want free men and women from now on.”

“What about the slaves in your lands?” 

“I will free them, of course. If Mark has done it and it works for him, why not?” He grinned. “I will suggest the idea at the Vladimirov Annual Summer Party and hope that Uncle Igor will approve, so that the rest of the House Vladimirov will follow in his steps.”

Adam nodded. “Agafia and I have also started thinking about it. What if we offered our slaves the same terms as Mark? To either continue working for us for a yearly salary, or to buy off land and work it for themselves?”

“You are all mad,” Nathalia’s uncle told them. “I am going for my afternoon rest session. See you at dinner.”

“Good bye, Uncle,” Vassily and all of the Gorrusevs in the room told him. 

That was a ‘no’ from that family. He turned towards Dima.

“I can talk to my Father,” Dima told them, “and try to persuade him to lead the Theissen family to our side. We need more free men, so we can raise more taxes!”

“And Mavra?”

“With Sasha about to return, the Stanjinskis will wait for him. Don’t expect any help from that family right now, but, as you know, they will do whatever the Head tells them to do.”

Mark nodded. They clearly had a lot of work ahead of them, but how he hoped that soon, he would be able to fuck Filon and Artyom as free men, and not His Majesty’s slaves. If his sweet boys refused to become nobles, he would at least do that for them! And it would be nice to raise more taxes!

“Quartermaster Sokolov to see you, Sir.”

“Yes, please, let him in.”

Mark smiled at the man. “His Majesty keeps asking where Lesnev is. Where is he?”

Quartermaster Sokolov frowned. “He is on his way to see his Husband,” he said.

“Yes, but…” How could they say that?

“With all due respect, Sir, that is no state secret. Why don’t you just send a message back that he is traveling to see the Major?”

Mark and the others shared a look. Yes, they could send that reply. “Yes, thank you.”

For a moment, Quartermaster smirked and glanced at him as if he thought him an idiot. Then he saluted them and left.

“Someone doesn’t like you,” Pavel grinned.

“Or he doesn’t like being disturbed in the middle of work,” Adam smiled. “There were ink stains on his hands. I too hate it when someone stops me in the middle of writing.”

Hm… “Doesn’t matter. Vassily, can you make sure His Majesty gets the message that Lesnev is on his way to see his husband?”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Ah, how I wish I could see their reunion.”

There were several sighs in the room following Vassily’s words.

Mark smirked. “It will be boring. They will nod at each other and exchange reports.” 

“Ah, until it happens and we get disappointed, can’t you let us imagine that it will be wonderfully romance-like?” 

“Yes, that they will embrace and kiss and…”

Mark smirked. “Gentlemen, should we bet on it? I bet a cake that it will be the most boring reunion possible.”

“Deal,” Pavel said. “I bet a pie that they will kiss.”

“I bet a cake too that they will just embrace and stare into each other’s eyes,” Adam said and sighed.

“I bet a bottle of wine that they will…”

“No, no, wait, I see too many hands,” Adam stopped Dima. “Let me start writing the bets down, Gentlemen! Or we will forget who owes what!”

&*&*

Vanya smiled brightly. “Sana, tomorrow we will go see the Capital. You see, you will like it.”

Sana huffed. “Is this your scheme to get me to buy clothes?”

“Sana!” he protested. 

“I have seen how everyone is dressed differently than us but,” she stared at him proudly, “I am a Quhjani woman. I will not wear frilly laces.”

“When have I asked you to wear frilly laces?” He protested, although it was true. He did want Sana to stop dressing like a Quhjani now that they were at the Capital. Everyone had looked at her strangely at every town and village they had passed, on account of her old-fashioned clothes. 

“You haven’t, but at every town and village we have passed, you keep telling me how nice all the ladies look in their pretty clothes. You have been doing that for weeks and I…” She hit him. “I have been very patient with you, Ivan.”

Vanya bit his lips. She must have been really mad to call him by his proper name. “I am sorry, my Sana. I will not do that again. But…”

She hit him again. “Not one word.”

He glanced at Stepan’s Mother and Granny Fenya. Granny Fenya was asleep, and Mother was knitting a blanket, pretending not to listen to them. “I should go back on my horse. I can’t enter Ivanhof in a wagon.” He leaned to kiss her, and she allowed it, showing him that he was forgiven. “I will see you later, my Sana.”

“Later, Vanya,” she smiled at him as he hopped off the very slow-moving carriage. 

“Well-done, Sana,” he heard Stepan’s Mother. “Ah, these women of the Empire,” she said disparagingly. “They….”

Hurriedly, he approached his horse that was trotting next to their wagon, mounted it, spurred it on and went to join the others at the front of their train. 

“No luck?” Onisim asked him.

“No.”

They all groaned. “Sana is their bloody ring-leader. As long as she refuses to dress like a Bosilik woman, the others will refuse too.”

Ignat looked a little smug. 

“Oh, shut up,” Vanya told him even though he hadn’t said anything. “Just because Milos is a man does not mean that he is not dressed like a peasant from the time of Emperor Viktor!”

“He is a peasant,” Ignat smiled. “And so am I! When we retire, we will have our own plot of land.” He grinned. “I have already started putting money aside for this.”

“And, unlike the Majors, who had to live in the Barracks while they saved money for their house, we will have houses,” Samuil grinned.

“Hurrah!” 

“Perhaps, once we have our houses, and we all live together, they will decide to dress like Bosilik women,” Gleb said. “When they see them every day in their pretty skirts and lacy sleeves.”

Vanya doubted it. He decided that he didn’t want to talk about that any longer, especially with everyone thinking he was unable to persuade his wife. Well, he was! Sana was… She was from Stepan’s family, and that family had some fierce women…. Maybe Stepan could talk to her? If his Mother allowed him? He looked around at the gardens spreading as far as the eye could see. “I have missed the gardens here, Brothers,” he said quietly.

Vlas nodded. “Of all the places I have seen, only the gardens at Sorain can compare.”

“And the Sorain palace was magnificent.”

“Our Barracks are better, though, than the Barracks of the Guards at Sorain. We have rooms of our own!”

“True!”

They laughed. 

“I can’t wait to see our Brothers!” And Roman, in particular. He had missed his cousin! “Glorious is our Empire,” he started singing the march of his former regiment. 

“Victorious is our Lord,” they all joined him. 

Half-way through the march, they heard their Brothers sing along with them. Ah, now they were truly home!

&*&*

Grigori took a deep breath. He knew everyone was being nice for his sake, but he really wanted to go to his room and cry. How could he have hope when Vasya hadn’t had any? Hope was a dreadful thing; once it burrowed inside you, it wouldn’t let you rest, even when you knew it was pointless. Truly pointless. 

How he wished he could go to Vasya. What selfishness was he talking about? Grigori had ruined his whole life, yet Vasya was asking for his forgiveness for what? Taking him out of a miserable existence where he lived off the forest most days, worked only whenever there was extra work, and knew that he would live his whole like as poor as a shrine mouse until he died? Vasya had introduced him to meat pies and cakes! Cakes! 

He really wanted to cry. If Vasya… how could he live with himself if… Ah! “Sire,” he said, putting down his empty tea cup, and making everyone in the room stop talking. “I would like to retire now.”

His Majesty looked at him miserably. “Grisha,” he whispered. 

“Sire! Message from the Capital!” One of the soldiers shouted from the door, opening it without knocking. 

“What is it?”

“Lesnev on his way to Lesnev.”

He froze. “What?”

His Majesty grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Grisha! Vasya is coming to find you! That’s what ‘on leave’ means!” He grinned at him madly. 

He blinked, still unable to believe it. 

“Sire?” the same soldier asked very quietly. “May we stay until the Major is here?”

Several of his men and many of the soldiers he had never met started getting into the tea room, staring at them curiously, and begging His Majesty with their eyes to say ‘yes’ to their request.

His Majesty stared at him, grinning. “What an excellent idea.”

“Why?” Grigori asked at the same time as General Davin. 

General Mrishsnan shared a look with General Loviljin. They seemed just as surprised as he was. 

“Why not?” His Majesty stood up, looking as pleased as if his husband were in front of him, naked! “So, what if it starts raining in a few weeks and the roads turn muddy? We fought a campaign here last autumn and winter and we didn’t let a little mud stop us! What is the worst that can happen? We lose what we have gained so far, retreat to the New Territory of Oerestand to make sure its new Governor, Her Majesty Queen Ada, has everything under control, and come back in late spring to continue where we left off.” 

That made sense, but… he still couldn’t understand. “Yes, of course, but why?” Grigori asked the soldier again. 

Carel sighed, frustrated. “You really don’t know why?”

Grigori shook his head.

“Your love story is such a wonderful romance,” Evgeni sighed. 

Grigori frowned. There was nothing special about their love story. Young people today, reading more romances than it was good for them! He should have a talk with Vasya about their general education. And if he ever went on a Trip again, he’d make them all write essays on past generals! 

“You, a free peasant,” someone said. 

“He, a count.”

“Against all odds, you fell in love.”

All the soldiers in the room sighed and stared at him. So what? People fell in love with other people all the time. What was so special about them? 

“And you got married.” That was also followed by a sigh. 

“He got punished by being disinherited.”

“And you almost lost your life.”

“But, thanks to His Majesty, you lived.” Another sigh, and a grateful stare at His Majesty, who looked like he was enjoying himself a little too much at his confusion. Of course, he was baffled. His love story with Vasya was not a romance! It was just them, trying to make things work and struggling a lot. A lot!

“And you joined the army.”

“Where you became the legendary …” The soldiers looked at each other and the one who was speaking turned red. “You became a legend.”

“Training the best of the best.”

“An elite unit that does not have its equal in any other army!”

“The ones who stormed the impregnable twin fortresses of the Snow Maiden and her Ice Brother at the province of Akia.”

“The ones who broke the advance of the army of Njellaga in the battle of Pashleviki.”

“The ones who..”

Grigori shook his head and cut him off. “I deserve no credit for such things. His Majesty does, for leading such men in battle, and the men, for their bravery.”

“A legend, and so humble too,” His Majesty grinned. “No wonder Vassily wrote you should have been Major-General by now.”

“Sire, don’t you dare,” Grigori gasped. “It’s bad enough that you forced this promotion upon me while Vasya is still a Major…”

A new sigh from everyone made him stop protesting. “Seriously!” he huffed. “What is wrong with all of you? Are you sick?”

“Sir?” someone addressed him. “Seriously, don’t you understand? You are Our legend, and your husband is so devoted to you, he was willing to die for you. We want to see you. Together!”

“We may not know much about your husband, but now we understand why he is worthy of you, Sir.” 

“Vasya and I, we just do our work. We are not worthy of such attention.” Grigori frowned. “If Vasya hears of it…” He shuddered. Unlike him, who didn’t give a fuck, Vasya did not want their private life become something talked about with others. Partly because he was shy, partly because he was in Intelligence. 

His Majesty grinned. “It seems to me that you are, Colonel. We, Bosilik, love a good romance,” he smiled, “and what better than that of the former count and the peasant, who became such valuable and worthy men for the whole of the Empire? Hurrah!”

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!”

He huffed. Romances should be banned! 

&*&*

There was one letter from His Husband that evening, but also, there was one from his sister for Vasya and one for him! Curious, he opened Nikolaj’s letter as soon as he had washed himself. “Ah,” he sighed.

“What is the matter?”

“My Husband is still loving and confused. I am so glad we are on our way to see him. If I had received that at Ivanhof, I would be…”

“Yes?”

“Even more impatient than I am now.” He still wanted to punch him a bit, but mostly, he wanted to dazzle him and make him his! He opened his sister’s letter next and sighed again. 

“What is the matter?” Vasya asked him again. 

“Irina now wants to be a Partner by Imperial Decree. First, she wanted to be called a Husband and her partner to be called a wife, then she wanted her partner to be either a husband or a wife, and now this! She doesn’t even have a partner!” He looked at the Guards. “Vadim, you have seven siblings. Did any of them make such trouble for you?”

Vadim shook his head. “I am the youngest, Sire. I made trouble for them,” he grinned. 

Vasya looked at him sternly. “If Her Excellency wants to be called a partner then…” he suddenly paled. “Oh…” He recovered moments later. “Well… she must have her reasons.”

“I guess so. She does call me ‘her brother most dear and her king most revered’,” he smiled. “I should not be so upset that she keeps changing her mind. I think I will write a decree that she can call herself and whomever she chooses whatever she wants instead of issuing a new decree on this most important matter every month. Yes, this is the third decree in three months that she wants,” he laughed.

“Are you sure she does not have an intended?” Vadim asked him. 

“Very sure. I think.” But there was someone else who had Irina’s trust in that room. “Vasya? Have you heard anything on the matter? Brother, please, open her letter and read it. Does she write anything to you?”

Vasya opened it carefully and read it. “No, Sire. All she writes is my permission to use some of what I had written to her in a…” he blushed. 

“A what?” Maxim and Valery asked, one after the other. 

“A story,” Vasya mumbled. He took a deep breath. 

“What can be the harm in that?” Elik asked him. “She only does this for fun.”

“I guess so.” Vasya smiled suddenly. “And her story was sweet, although the writing could be improved. I would be honoured if my humble letter can help her and her Official Friend become better writers.” He sat down and started writing his reply.

Jan made a questioning gesture the moment he was certain that Vasya was not looking. 

“We’re going to get more water,” Vadim said, and the others followed him out. 

His sister was admirable, writing and illustrating such stories at her young age! “Irina is…” He started saying when he realized something else. “Vasya?”

“Yes?”

“If I wrote to Irina now and the Elders, how long would it take for the letter to reach them? Urgent Urgent?”

“Two days.”

“Vasya? I need to write to the Council.”

“Sire, you are injured!”

“Yes, but I am also going there to dazzle my husband and show him I’m his Equal. I just had a thought! I need a proper escort. I want a hundred of our riders to join me when I go see him. They will be in full armour, since that seemed to impress the Majors so much. Won’t that be better than me arriving in my robes of state, with just the five of you? Not that you are not the best escorts any king could have but… a hundred riders in full armour will look better!”

Vasya looked at him with wonder and excitement. “Sire!”

“You see, you agree with me. It will be a sight most marvellous!” He sat down and took out his own notebook. “Vasya, where should we meet with our riders from Jedlowa?”

Oh, His Husband would regret thinking he could discard him so easily and treat him as his bed slave. And if that didn’t work, he could always punch him!


	77. Chapter 77

5th 

Maxim and the others had been looking at him strangely since the night before. Vasily sighed. “I will make you pancakes for breakfast, if you tell me the truth.”

They all shared a look. The Guards didn’t reply, but Elik responded to his suggestion with enthusiasm. “And, unlike yesterday, I can help! What do you want to know?”

“If you need to ask, then you don’t know what I am asking.”

“Excuse me?”

Jan reddened. “We want to know more about the stories, Sir. That Her Excellency has written.”

Vasily smiled. “Ah. I see. Three pancakes per person, right?”

“Sir,” Maxim whined. 

“Let’s see, do we have enough eggs? Maybe we should start having chicken coops in the safehouses.”

“Sir!”

“I did promise you pancakes, didn’t I?”

Elik laughed. “The Captain doesn’t want us to talk about stories, Brothers.”

“Why not? If you wait enough, everything will become a story, you said so yourself, Captain,” Maxim insisted. 

“Unless it’s forgotten,” Valery said. “Stories need people to write or tell them.”

He smiled. He’d told them that too. How well they remembered. 

“Just like songs,” Elik said. “If you don’t write them, or tell them, they too will be forgotten.”

He nodded. “Sire, you said you wanted to help, right? Maxim, Valery? Does anyone else want to help? Recipes too much be passed down and shared, or they will also be forgotten.” Life was too short, and even though he had written this recipe down and Grisha would have it, surely, he could share it with others. Grisha wouldn’t mind that he had done it without discussing it first with him, would he? These young ones had been so insistent! Oh, he needed to ask forgiveness for so many things! 

“I can help?” Elik suddenly hugged him. “Thank you!” He pulled away and, from the corner of his eye, Vasily saw him embrace the Guards and jump. “Brothers, we can make this the official Special Breakfast for His Majesty’s Special Guards! Hurrah!”

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!”

&*&*

Vanya wished he had had time to warn his Brothers. Instead, all he could do was keep the door open for Sana and the other wives to come into the Main Hall. 

Peter the Tall took a step back. “Sana? What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? I came to see the plans.”

“But, Sana,” Leonid protested and then stopped.

Asei nodded. 

“We will live in those houses, won’t we?” she told them as she waddled towards the table where the plans were. 

Vanya watched his brothers nod, and stare at him. He shrugged, closing the door. 

“Since we will live there, we have a right to decide how they will look. Right?”

The other wives nodded.

Sana turned back and glared at him. “Trying to distract me with suggestions of shopping at the Capital,” she sneered, spitting on the floor once. “I want to see the plans for our house.”

Hurriedly, Roman brought a seat for her, while Peter the Short started unfolding the first of the plans. 

Vanya sighed. Who knew what everyone would think about him from then on. Probably that his wife was as scary as Stepan’s Mother! 

“Where is Milos?” Leonid asked Ignat as their brothers all rushed around, bringing chairs for the wives.

“He’s showing Granny Panya around.”

Roman nodded. “Stepan also took half the day off to show Granny Fenya the gardens.”

Kolya suddenly hugged Vanya. “You should have married a nice Quhjani boy, Vanya,” he whispered grinning. “These women are frightening!” 

Ah, if only he liked men! Kolya had no idea how truly frightening Quhjani women really were! He looked at Sana, settled in the chair, her hands over her round belly and her face glowing with happiness as she looked at the plans. They were frightening, but they were also so very wonderful, honest and practical and seeing difficulties as obstacles to be overcome, rather than causes for distress. 

What perfect wives they were! 

&*&*

“Romances should be banned,” Grigori complained as he gave up trying to wield his sword and sat down, wincing with pain. He couldn’t make himself sick again, not when Vasya was coming to find him, most likely escorting His Majesty. 

“They are enjoyable,” His Majesty said as he tried to follow Major Kamenski’s instructions and failed. “Please, a little more slowly.”

“I too like them,” Major Kamenski said. “But are you sure that waiting here is the right thing to do? Reading a romance and trying to see one in action are two different things.”

“What do you mean?”

Both Major Kamenski and His Majesty looked at him. So did Evgeni and Carel. 

“Are you that oblivious?” His Majesty finally said. “Everyone expects some grand love scene between you and Vasya,” he grinned. “Maybe you falling into his arms, crying with relief that you are together, or him doing that.”

“Sire, you’ve made me a Colonel. Vasya will probably salute me and stand in attention until I tell him ‘at ease’,” he said miserably. He hated having been promoted ahead of his husband, no matter how much he used to joke about who would be promoted first. 

“Oh.” His Majesty frowned a little. 

“And then he won’t be able to kiss you while in uniform, because that would be insubordination,” Evgeni whispered. 

“Nor I, because that would be harassment.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. But you are married.”

“Yes, but we are officers first, and married secondly. Especially when we are in full dress uniform.”

“It is in the Manual of Military Etiquette,” Evgeni whispered. “Even hand-holding is considered bad etiquette.”

Grigori nodded. “Yet we do that. Sire, perhaps this military life is not for us. We set bad examples to the men.”

Everyone stared at him again. 

“It is true. Any other commander would never allow the liberties that Vasya has allowed the Guards, and that I too have accepted.”

Carel and Evgeni looked embarrassed. They knew what he meant!

His Majesty frowned. “You really are weird. If I promote Vasya, would that mean that we can have a grand love scene?” he grinned. 

Truly, knowing that his husband was well and coming to see him had put His Majesty in an excellent mood! Grudgingly, he nodded. “It still would be against regulation, but, at least, it would be neither insubordination nor harassment, just open to disciplinary action for dishonouring the uniform by displaying affection.”

His Majesty made a dismissive gesture. “As if I would ever discipline the legend and his most worthy husband.”

Major Kamenski gave him a strange, accusing look.

“I swear, I will never, ever do that again. Grisha, I really am sorry!”

“I know.” Clearly, His Majesty would not stop apologizing for the rest of the year. He had to accept it. “Apology accepted,” he said again. 

“Thank you. Then, as soon as we finishing practicing, I will write a decree promoting Vasya, then we will watch the men do some nice drills, then we will have lunch, and watch more drills before dinner! How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a good way to pass the day, Sire.”

“Wonderful. As for that grand love scene,” His Majesty said seriously. 

Grigori froze, waiting to hear what he would demand of them.

“I was just kidding,” he laughed loudly. “You may do as you please when you see Vasya. I know he’s shy.”

Carel, Evgeni, and Major Kamenski stared at His Majesty with surprise. 

“Sire,” Major Kamenski finally said, “Have you ever drunk with the man? Shy is not a word I would use for him.”

He looked at His Majesty. Had Vasya changed while he was on that trip? He hadn’t felt that Vasya was different. 

His Majesty shrugged; his expression confused. He too had no idea what Major Kamesnski was talking about. 

Ah, when Vasya was there, they’d have a lot to talk about. Starting from the notion of selfishness, and who had destroyed whose life. 

Ah, Vasya!

&*&*

Viktor stretched his arms and fell on the billiards table face down. “This is so boring,” he cried. “I miss being ordered around! My days had meaning and a purpose.”

“Your days have meaning here too,” Sila told him. “You are making everyone think that His Majesty is injured.”

“Yes, like this morning? When Her Highness, Princess Olga, decided to come and see you? If there was anyone else in bed but you, she would have understood that something was wrong.”

Viktor stood up. “You are right. I know that what I am doing is important, but I am bored.” He looked at them pleadingly as he sighed. 

“You sound like a nobleman,” Peter the Short laughed.

“I am one. A third son, but still, the son of a Count…” He huffed. “I only joined the army because it seemed more exciting that becoming a Shrine Attendant or a Librarian, which were what my father wanted me to become.”

“If you are so bored… maybe you can read a book?”

Viktor made a face. 

“What if…” Peter the Short closed the door of the billiards room. “What if we wrote a story?”

“Excuse me?”

“This is a Very Big Secret,” Peter the Short started, “But Her Excellency and Her Official Friends have written stories about the Majors! Romances!” he said, lowering his voice even more. 

Sila frowned. “They did what?”

Peter the Short nodded. “Wait here!”

Twenty minutes later he was back with Filon and Artyom and two letters, as well as every Guard who was at the retreat. “Here.”

“How did you get these?”

Filon grinned. “We asked the Chancellor.”

“We said we missed the Captain!” Artyom laughed. 

“He believed us.”

“It’s not a lie, after all.”

“We do miss him.”

Everyone nodded. 

“And the Young Lord.”

They all nodded and sighed. “I hope he punches His Majesty,” Gleb said.

“Yes, he deserves it,” Yuri agreed.

“But what about the stories?” Viktor insisted. 

“I will read them out loud for everyone’s benefit,” Filon said.

When he had finished the first story, Artyom read out the second and they all listened carefully.

“Well? What if we also wrote a story about them?” Peter the Short asked them. “That will help us pass the time, and I bet we can write better than Her Excellency,” he laughed.

“She’s still a child, she’s allowed to not write very well,” Sila smiled 

“But she’s also becoming a woman and it shows,” Viktor said. “Brothers, if we are to write such romances, they must be suitable for us, not suitable for young women.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Major Grigori is much more than an eloquent officer who does get stunned and tongue-tied whenever Major Vasily unbuttons his collar,” Viktor grinned. “I wonder how they got that right. A lucky guess?”

They laughed. 

“We should write a story based on a Trip,” Sila suggested.

“Where they are under a waterfall, and then, as they dry themselves, they realise that their passion is too great!” Viktor said, nodding.

“Yes, all that rubbing and patting and touching each other’s hard, muscled chests,” Yuri purred. 

“But there are all the men there, watching them, so they hide into a cave,” Bram added. 

“And there, they satisfy their passion!”

“In detail!”

They all nodded. 

“And then they come out, and go over the tactics used at the battle of…. Navarim?”

“Oh, yes, why not,” Kornei smiled. “Remember when they did that?”

“And how we used the same manoeuvre as Philimon at the battle of the Yellow Fields?”

Viktor nodded. 

“I have a suggestion,” Artyom said. 

“Yes?”

“Maybe they fulfil their passion after they explain the tactics? No one will read a romance where the main characters please themselves in the first five pages and then do nothing but talk.”

“That is a good point,” Filon said. “I vote for that.”

“I don’t care, as long as the story is educational,” Viktor said. “It must have some value other than providing us with…” he reddened. “But, oh, yes, the Major under the waterfall, with his body all wet and his nipples hard as little rocks, and…. Ah, the Major is a lucky man!” he sighed.

“And the Major controlling his horse with just his thighs when he’s riding? Ah, the Major is a lucky man,” Sila said, sighing. He didn’t even like men, but he wished he had such thighs, and hold his lover down the way the Major probably held down the Major! 

“Brothers, what are we waiting for? We must educate everyone!” 

“And write about what they imagine already. The Majors together, naked!”

Grinning, they ran to the study. 

&*&*

Alexandre walked into his brother’s study. He bowed. “Sire?”

Charles made a gesture, and everyone left them alone in the room. “Have a seat, Brother.”

He did. “Charles? You look troubled. What is it?”

Charles showed him a letter. “This.” 

He gave it to Alexandre, who read it quickly, gasping at the accusations Elik made. “Oh.” He looked up. “I have also received a letter from him, but have not had a chance to read it yet.” He took it out of his pocket. “May I?”

Charles nodded.

“He writes the same to me,” he said. “That Francis…” 

“Alexandre,” Charles told him, “Philippa must not know of this. Her condition is… it seems… I think, and the doctors also do that…”

Alexandre stood up and hugged his brother. “Charles, congratulations!”

“It is still a secret,” Charles told him with joy in his voice. “Next month, we may announce it, but for now…”

“Worry not, I will make sure no one learns anything.”

“As for this…” Charles sighed and Alexandre let him go. “I don’t want Philippa to know of the danger that our dear Brother Elik is facing. Can you, please, keep it from her, and let him know not to mention this to her again?”

“Of course, but what will you do? They are our allies and if what Elik writes is true, then Francis’ behaviour is unacceptable.”

“I agree. I am sending seventy ships to assist Brother Nikolaj in his campaign. With orders to pass close to Ustvela.” He smiled. “I swear, Alexandre, if the blessing that he and Elik bestowed upon us through their ritual comes true, I will name my son after him.” He grinned. “I do not like the feminine form ‘Nicole’.”

“And ‘Nicolette’ is even worse,” Alexandre shuddered. 

“Yes, if our child is a girl, Nicole will be her third or second name. But Nicholas is a fine first name for a son. Nicholas-Louis, what do you think?”

Alexandre smiled. “I like it.”

“Brother, can you also write to our ambassador there and tell him to informally protest?”

“Of course. Ah, Marius will be so delighted to have such an important mission!”

“Marius? Isn’t our ambassador there Thomas?”

“Yes, but he is on leave. He wrote that he just got married and I gave him permission to go see his husband.” How could he not! Thomas! Had married! A man! And not just a man, a Guard! A Guard! 

And he needed time before he told Charles that Thomas wanted to either retire or go to Bosilke. Instead of telling that to Charles, he sent Thomas on vacation. The man had served their interests well at Ustvela, how could he send him to Bosilke? But if he resigned, how could they stop him? 

Truly, a vacation was the best thing for Thomas until he figured out how to say this to his brother, and his brother decided what to do, or he figured out a way to make Thomas stay at Ustvela! 

“Hm… I am not sure if I like that you took this decision without telling Us, Brother, but it may be for the best. Once our Ambassador protests, Francis might put him under unofficial house arrest, and that will be so hard on a newlywed.” He smiled. “Ah, Alexandre. I too feel like a newlywed again!” He kissed him on the cheek. “I am going to see my sweet wife. I will see you later, Brother.”

“Later, my Lord.” He bowed and hurried out of the study after him. He had to write to Elik. How he hoped that his letter would find his dearest Elik well!

That fiendish Francis. If he could, he would punch him!

&*&*

“Thomas…” Carel started saying, surprised. 

Nikolaj turned to glare at him for disturbing him while they watched the men practice, and saw what he was seeing. A thin man with short, brown hair, who looked like he’d been riding for days, dirty and dusty and tired. 

Before he could ask what was going on, Grisha whispered next to him, “Your Excellency?” but it was Evgeni who cried out the loudest. “Husband!” he shouted, making everyone stop and watch him. 

Ah, Bosilik lived for romance. Perhaps because they were not allowed any, marrying whom their parents dictated, and discouraged from having relationships with non-Bosilik or slaves. When they did, their relationships were frowned upon. It was fine to fuck slaves, after all, but not to love them, nor marry them. Even his love, his most sweet darling, was regarded by some as nothing more than a slave, or a peasant, someone far below Nikolaj’s station. No one had dared judge Nikolaj, but they had attacked his love instead. 

And Nikolaj… what had he done? 

When would his darling be there? 

“With your permission, Sire,” Evgeni gasped. The moment Nikolaj nodded, he ran down from the dais where they were sitting, and hurried towards the man. 

“Who is he?”

“Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur,” Carel said.

“Don’t you do that again,” Grisha told him seriously. 

“But that’s his name, Sir,” Carel smirked, as he winked at Nikolaj! Winked!

Truly, the Guards were taking far too many liberties with him, but how he enjoyed it! They were such spirited young men. 

“He is the Valentin ambassador at Ustvela.”

“And he’s married to Evgeni?”

Grisha and Carel nodded. “His Majesty married them after the Quhjani manner and Sir after the Bosilik one,” Carel said. That was not what he wanted to learn, but he could ask that later. “How lucky to have been married by such paragons of loyalty. I am certain their marriage will be most successful.”

Evgeni had finally caught up with his husband and had caught him between his arms. They stared at each other and then Evgeni kissed him. It must have been a passionate kiss, because even from where he was, he could see that the ambassador seemed to have melted in Evgeni’s embrace. 

“Is that an offence to the uniform?” he smirked as the men started cheering. 

“It is,” Count Bitoulin said, grinning.

“I hope you will not discipline them for that,” Nikolaj said. 

Count Bitoulin glared at him for a moment. “I do not think that a kiss is such a bad thing. Besides, His Excellency outranks Evgeni. One could argue that Evgeni had no choice but to obey his superior.”

He snorted. “Isn’t that harassment, then?”

“I don’t think Evgeni is the one being harassed,” Carel muttered, trying not to laugh. 

Grisha smiled. “Evgeni, as my escort, is under my command, and I do not see anything happening. Do you?”

Carel shook his head.

Count Bitoulin did the same.

“I don’t see anything either,” General Davin said with a grin.

“Nor do we,” Generals Loviljin and Mrishsnan said. 

“Should we ask the men? Grisha?”

Grisha stood up and whistled loudly. “Gentlemen, do you see anything happening there?” he asked them, pointing at Evgeni and the ambassador.

“No, Sir,” they all replied in one voice.

Nikolaj smiled. Three weeks ago, he might have been offended or felt threatened at how his men obeyed Grisha, but at that point, he just found it amusing. Especially in light of Grisha’s comments that he was setting a bad example to the men and he was not suited for life in the military.

How oblivious was Grisha anyway? It really was amusing. 

And even with all that noise, Evgeni had not stopped kissing his husband! Nikolaj was impressed while Grisha looked at them fondly. 

When they finally broke up, the men all sighed.

“You really love romances,” Major Kamenski grinned.

“They do,” Grisha snorted.

As if Grisha and Vasya weren’t living a romance proper. If he were in Vasya’s place, he would never have given up his title for…. He stood up, feeling dizzy.

“Sire?” Grisha, and the Majors asked him.

He shook his head, unable to say it aloud. He loved his crown more than his darling. His stunned and useless behaviour when his darling had sung _For the freedom of our land_ for the first time; his reaction when he heard of Ivanof’s attempted coup; his denial of the situation with Francis. In all three occasions, he had felt threatened, and instead of supporting and helping his love, he put himself and his crown first. 

He sat down again and smiled at them pleasantly. “It was nothing, just a sudden dizziness. Ah, Evgeni, congratulations on your marriage. Please, present your husband to Us.”

Now that he knew what was wrong, he would fix it. Perhaps Grisha and Vasya could help him, but what he really needed, was his love to help him. Ah, his darling, where was he?

Evgeni bowed deeply. “This is Thomas, sixth Count d’Heunnigcoeur, Sire.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“If I may ask, how are things at Krzydzov?” Grisha asked the moment the ambassador sat down. 

“I was under unofficial house arrest hours after you left, Your Excellency,” he laughed. “Thank you for that.”

“Please, accept my apologies.”

“No, you couldn’t have known.”

Grisha looked a little embarrassed. “I suspected it. I am truly sorry.”

The ambassador continued grinning. “I bet you are. At least I was not as closely observed as Count Srodina and I was allowed to send my reports to His Highness and His Majesty.” He smiled at Evgeni. “I only wrote of frivolous things, and that we got married. His Highness granted me some days of leave in order to come see you, and His Majesty, King Francis, had no choice but to let me go, or cause a diplomatic incident between our countries.” He squeezed Evgeni’s hand. “Our marriage was the best thing that happened to me.”

“How did you know where to find me?” Evgeni asked him, still looking dazed with happiness. 

“Oh, that is the funniest thing. I met Michal in an inn as I was traveling out of Krzydzov. He was with some friends, and they were all going hunting for deer, they told me,” he smirked.

Grisha looked pleased at the news. “How is Michal?” he asked. 

“He looked well,” he replied curtly. 

“Any news of His Highness, Prince Anton?” asked Nikolaj, sensing that the ambassador did not want to talk of this Michal. 

“Still at Svjetlski Castle. Although, the big news is not this, but…”

“Yes?”

“King Francis has arrested Prince Krzyzanowslavski.”

Grisha sighed deeply. “This is my fault. What excuse did Francis use for arresting him?”

The ambassador shrugged. “Who knows. I just heard he was arrested. He is held in the main tower of the old castle in the heart of Krzydzov.” The ambassador lowered his voice. “Prince Krzyzanowslavski’s close links with the Bosilke empire are well-known, yet, it is also well-known that the prince cares not for politics, but for art only. Arresting him has made a lot of nobles uneasy. If a harmless old man can be arrested for seemingly no reason, what about them, they all think.” 

Grisha nodded. “Yes, of course. Still, I really feel bad for dragging him into this.”

“It gets better,” the ambassador snorted. “Between me talking to the other ambassadors, the prince talking to his friends before his arrest, and the Guards present when Francis tried arresting you, everyone in Krzydzov knows that you were there to pick up a cameo for Lesnev, your husband.”

“So what?” Nikolaj asked him.

“Whereas nobles of a certain generation are uneasy, those of another, especially those who were close to Prince Anton, are upset. How could Francis arrest a harmless old man who is friends with their friend Lesnev?”

Nikolaj shook his head, curious and amused. “Ah, those parties must have been something else.”

“Oh, they were,” the ambassador smiled. He looked at Evgeni and smiled at him. “We met at one of them.”

Evgeni blushed as he nodded.

Grisha smiled. “Sire?”

He nodded, even though he had no idea what Grisha wanted to do. 

Grisha turned towards the men. “Gentlemen,” he shouted and they all stood in attention. “This is the Valentin ambassador at Ustvela, and Evgeni’s husband.”

There was a loud sigh. Nikolaj grinned. He should call his troops the Army Marching on Love from then on! He was beginning to understand Grisha’s annoyance!

But it was amusing!

“Will you show Valentin how well-trained we are?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He nodded and the Lieutenants started giving commands for the next set of drills.

Evgeni and his husband sat down, hugging and glancing at each other more than the troops. 

Ah, young love! When would his darling be there? He too longed to hug him the way Evgeni hugged his husband!

&*&*

“And then,” Filon laughed, “they inspected All the plans.”

Artyom nodded. “Yes.” He shook his head. “Quhjani women are weird. Don’t they know that buying the house is a husband’s job?”

“Yes. I don’t understand why they didn’t go shopping for laces and new clothes at the Capital.”

“They are all dressed as if they are still in Jedlowa!”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Surely they will change now that they live here. Ekaterina?”

“Hm.” These women were interesting! She smiled. “I agree. Her Excellency also did the same when she first arrived here, but she did learn how to dress properly.” She put her glass aside and stood up. “Should we go play cards before retiring for the night?”

“Why not?”

“Winner gets to tie me up,” she laughed. They hadn’t played with ropes enough these days!

Everyone hurried in the drawing room after her. 

&*&*

Thomas smiled as they left the dining room. Finally, he and Evgeni could be on their own after so many hours of being around people. Not that he minded that the Emperor’s troops seemed obsessed with Evgeni and his love affair, nor that they had sat at the Emperor’s table during dinner, but he really wanted to be with Evgeni! 

“Evgeni?”

He and Evgeni stopped and turned to look at the Major. No, he was a Colonel now, or so Evgeni had whispered to him earlier. 

“Yes, Sir?”

“Just wanted to let you know that you need not assist me tomorrow.”

“But, Sir…”

Carel waved off Evgeni’s words. “No worries, Brother. Enjoy your second honeymoon,” he grinned, making Evgeni blush.

“Carel,” the Ma… Colonel said in a warning tone.

“Sorry, sorry, but I really wish Evgeni well,” he said, smiling. 

“Thank you,” Evgeni said, also smiling. “See you tomorrow, Sir.”

“Yes, have a nice evening, Evgeni. Your Excellency.”

Thomas linked his arm with Evgeni’s and guided him to the room they had allocated to him in a house near the one where the Emperor was staying, and also facing the central square. He managed to keep his mouth shut until they were there. 

“What are you doing here, Genya?”

“Excuse me?”

“You could have left the Major… Colonel at the hospital, in the care of his nurses, or other soldiers. Everyone would be happy to be his minder, from what I saw.”

Evgeni sat on the bed, frowning. “I don’t understand.”

“Is this good for your career? To be seen acting not just an escort, but also a nurse?”

Evgeni smiled. “Thomas, I don’t mind. Besides, my Captain put me in charge of looking after his husband. This is my mission.”

Thomas sat next to him and caressed Evgeni’s hands. “I don’t understand. I thought… well, clearly, I don’t know what your mission is, but I am not stupid. I know whatever you tried to do at Krzydzov had an impact on Ustvela’s state security. I wouldn’t have been put under house arrest if it hadn’t.” 

He smiled. “Honesty, I would prefer it if you could leave your job, and I left mine, and we went to live at my home in the south. You’d love our southern sea, Genya. If you cannot leave your work, however, I am happy to be wherever you are, but I need to know that you are happy and satisfied. Does this make you happy, Genya? Looking after a convalescing man?” He continued caressing Evgeni’s hands. 

Evgeni nodded. “Yes, because I am learning so much, Thomas. Not just about the job, but about myself too. I learned that I could never be like the Colonel. I could never hurt someone the way he hurt Michal, even if it’s for the sake of my country. No, I would rather leave that to others, or find a different way for learning their secrets.”

Thomas sighed. “I am still not happy that Michal lives, even though…”

“Yes?”

“When I saw him at that inn, and recognised him, I felt that his ‘friends’ would…” He shook his head. He had never felt such coldness directed towards him, as when those men had looked at him; not even when he went to King Francis and presented him with His Highness’ orders relieving him of his duty and sending him on leave, had he felt so threatened. “Michal reassured them that I was trustworthy and they let me continue on my journey.”

Evgeni hugged him instantly. “The Colonel’s men can be very intense,” he whispered. “They are the best of the best of our army, and when they are on a mission, they are… frightening. I saw how they were at Nisdruna,” he nodded, “and their mission there was being sick!”

Thomas shook his head. “Let us not discuss that, please. If any of our generals had done what your generals did, they would be on their way to exile – at least, until His Majesty decided they had learned their lesson and they could be of use again.” He sighed. “And your Captain behaved even more …” He sighed. “Honestly, maybe you should find another unit, Genya. I don’t think this will be good for you.”

Evgeni nodded. “Our Captain has been pardoned by His Majesty. He only agreed to lead the men there so they would agree to waiting instead of rebelling.”

“Your Captain is a spy who worked both for the army and the court. What kind of an end will a double agent like that have? Genya, do think about getting a transfer, please!”

Evgeni stood up. “Thomas, it’s been a long day and you need a bath even more than I do. As for our Captain… He is the Colonel’s Husband, and the Colonel is both the army’s idol, the legendary Beast, as well as His Majesty’s favourite. Nothing will happen to him, or to us in his unit.” He pulled Thomas up. “Husband, if our Captain were in danger from His Majesty or the army, do you think he would come here? In fact, I think he wouldn’t come here without the council’s or the Chancellor’s permission, and I suspect he must carry a message he can’t share with anyone.”

Thomas smiled. Evgeni thought far too highly of his Captain. “I wonder,” he said as he let Evgeni guide him to the bathroom, “How did he manage to get Prince Anton and his friends consider him a friend? I saw him at Krzydzov, and…” 

“And?” Evgeni asked as he started undressing him from his dirty clothes. How much nicer it would have been if he’d been allowed enough time between drills and dinner to wash and change; instead, he’d just had enough time to wash his face and hands before being ushered into the dining room. 

“And he was that quiet shadow behind His Majesty during the day, and his minder during the night, making sure he would be entertained and wouldn’t get drunk. How did he manage that?”

Evgeni shook his head. “I have no idea. I only know that Prince Anton kept asking for an invitation every day, and while we were at Krzydzov, his friends would bother us for one every night.”

He snorted. “Poor Prince Anton. He did feel stifled at court.” He sighed. “I wonder if they even let him out of his room at Svjetlski Castle.”

Evgeni nodded. “Tell me, Thomas, did you watch him a lot at Krzydzov? Our Captain?”

Thomas grinned. Ah, there was that little jealousy creeping into Evgeni’s voice. “No, not really. In fact,” he laughed, “I was under orders to observe His Majesty closely, so I was watching him, and that was why I noticed Lesnev.”

Evgeny hit him playfully on the arm. “You are the one who told His Highness what were His Majesty’s favourite dishes and drinks any music?” He looked both amused and surprised. 

“Not just me. His Highness had him observed throughout his journey,” he laughed. “However, I was horrible at spying on him and gathering information. You see, once I saw His Majesty’s Guards, I was completely distracted and, when I met the best of them, I could not care about orders anymore.” He kissed Evgeni. “How could I care about my orders, when you were there, Genya?”

Evgeni let out a pleased noise, and looked at him with love.

“Ah, Genya, let’s clean up and go to bed!”

Evgeni nodded. “Finally! Ah, why did they make us stay for the drills? And why couldn’t they let us have dinner on our own?” 

“Maybe we can go join everyone at lunch time tomorrow? Would they mind?”

“I can ask the Colonel. He didn’t see us kissing against regulations, after all. Perhaps he will not see us come in late!”

&*&*

“It is a beautiful night,” the Captain said after they had finished cleaning the plates they had used. “I’m going out to see the stars for a while,” he told them. “Would someone mind making some tea? I saw lavender in one of the drawers.” He smiled and walked out the main room of the safehouse. 

“Should we also go out?” the Young Lord asked them.

“We could, but first we should make the tea,” Valery smiled. 

“Indeed,” Maxim said. He stood up and noticed the folded papers under the table, at the place where the Captain had been sitting. “What’s that?” He knelt down and picked them up.

Vadim and the Young Lord gasped. “The stories!”

Maxim sat down again. “Oh, he is most sneaky,” he grinned.

“I have to warn you, the writing really is not the best,” the Young Lord told them. “But the drawings are great. I’m not just saying that because Irina is my sister!”

“What are you waiting for?” Jan asked him. “Open them. Let us read them!”

The Young Lord gasped again. “He must be taking them to Grisha!”

They sighed. 

“Ah, they really are living in a romance,” Maxim sighed again. “I want that too. Only with more men.”

“Maxim!”

He grinned. He was honest! What was so strange about that?


	78. Chapter 78

6th 

Vasily woke up to whispers and the smell of …. Pancakes? He stirred and sat up. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? We are cooking you the official Special breakfast of the Special Guards.”

He shook his head. “This is the third day in a row we are having pancakes. They will not be special anymore if we have them every day.”

“But, Captain, we need to…,” Elik grinned, “To make sure we can do them perfectly by the time we are…. Well, I would like to make them to my Husband. If he pleases me again,” he said a little darkly. 

“And if I ever find a husband, I will make them for him,” Maxim said. “Although, I will also make them for myself if I don’t find one.”

“I just like them,” Jan grinned. 

Andrik and Vadim nodded happily. “We are in charge of eating all the ones that are no good.”

He shook his head again. “You are not allowed to grow fat. I chose you because of your built so that you will not strain the horses with your weight.”

“Really?”

“What do you think?” He told them seriously. He chose them because he needed with him some of the members of the back-up team of the back-up team in case nothing went according to plan. Jan and Maxim would then stay with Elik while he would go blow things up at Krzydzov with the three of them.

“He is lying,” Elik told them. “I can tell,” he said with a smug nod when everyone looked at him curiously. 

Showing off to his friends and brothers, Vasily thought, trying hard not to grin, and feeling proud of Elik. He had changed so much from the timid and eager to please Consort he had first met, and even more from the noble, but hurt young man he had come to know during their travels. How he hoped that soon he would have friends among the courtiers as well, and that he would be just as carefree and playful with them, but also as naturally commanding as he was with the Guards. 

If Elik managed to deal with His Majesty in a manner befitting his station and with the same determination that he’d recently shown during events at the Capital, then Vasily would be even happier. How he wanted to see Elik stand tall and proud in front of His Majesty and make him acknowledge him as his equal. 

“Are you lying to us?” Vadim asked him suddenly. 

Valery’s eyes opened wide. “Really?”

“Captain,” Andrik gasped. 

“We are hurt!” Jan whined. 

“How could you?” Maxim mock-cried. 

He looked at them. “What if I did?” he told them defiantly.

“You will have no pancakes,” Elik told him seriously. 

“More for you, then,” he grinned. 

“Captain,” Maxim complained softly. 

“Fine, fine, you are right, I lied, and I am sorry for lying to you. Please accept my apology. I did not choose you for that,” he said, glancing at Elik. “I chose you because I like people who share my hobby of blowing things up,” he smiled, while Andrik, Valery, and Vadim stayed far too still. “Truth or lie, Private Alexandrov?”

“Truth. You like blowing things up?”

“Oh, yes. That’s what you do with cannons! Either you blow things up or you smash them,” he grinned happily. 

“Ah. That explains your passion for artillery,” Elik smiled. “When we are back, maybe we can have some cannons fire from the Old Palace at the Capital? I would like to see that.”

“I would like to see that too,” he smiled. “Do you need any help with the pancakes?”

“The Judge of our efforts cannot help,” Elik told him. “Today, we will cook!”

“I thought I wouldn’t get any pancakes after lying to you.”

Elik grinned. “You admitted your actions and repented for them. Now, you can have pancakes as a reward for being honest with us.”

Ah, what a quick learner he was! Hm! They were hiding something, but what? He had let them look at the stories already– what more could they want? At least they could cook! He could relax for a while. 

&*&*

Nikolaj took a step back and almost let out a scream when he opened the door. Count Bitoulin was right outside, looking stressed. “What happened?”

Count Bitoulin gestured for him to go back to his room.

Curious, he obeyed. “What is it?”

“Your Majesty, I just remembered. Oh, forgive me!”

“What is it?”

“Merman! It’s His Majesty! He is well and coming here!” He said, looking both happy and stressed.

It was too early to pretend to be surprised. He nodded.

“You knew?”

Nikolaj grinned. “I knew! I know!” He hugged the man for a second. “I know!”

Count Bitoulin sighed. “I am so sorry for not remembering earlier.”

“Don’t worry. Let’s go have breakfast, and then I will reply to my correspondence. I haven’t replied to anyone in a week!”

&*&*

Irina finished reading the letters, folded them, and ran out to see Katya. 

Olga immediately gestured for her to be silent when she saw her. Quietly, he led her upstairs, where Katya was eavesdropping outside one of the guest bedrooms. 

As soon as Katya saw her, she waved for her to come closer. 

She did and pressed her ear against the wooden door, but all she could hear was footsteps. 

Katya grabbed her hand, and together, they ran into her bedroom. “Irina, your brother wrote that he wants a hundred of our riders to meet him at the borders with Oerestand.”

“Yes, I came to tell you! He wrote that he is going to see his husband.” She sighed. “He scared me so much for those hours that I thought he was injured! I can only imagine how His Majesty felt. He may be a bit stupid, and he thinks he’s funny when he is not, but he does love Eli. Not as much as I do, but he loves him well, and that’s good enough for me.”

Katya nodded. “Irina, you don’t understand. Wherever your brother goes, so does Major Vasily,” she told her seriously.

“Yes,” she smiled. “In fact, he also wrote to me, and said that we can use his letters.”

“Irina, why use letters when we can go see him?”

“Excuse me?”

“Irina, he will be two days away from here. We have to go see him. He is our Teacher, is he not?” She looked a little scared. “Irina, can you help me persuade my Father to let me go with you?”

Irina nodded slowly. What an excellent idea! She hugged Katya. “Not just our Teacher. Katya, I will do this properly! I will get permission from the Elders to join the riders so we can see my brother, but most importantly, our Teacher. Can you get all our friends to get ready and join us? Everyone must hear his words!”

“Thank you, my friend! And then we will write a truly educational story,” she smiled happily.

“Indeed!” Irina grinned. 

They hugged again before parting. Katya ran out of the room, shouted ‘hello’, while Irina strode out and came face to face with Elders Soltukof and Alexeyef. 

“Elders,” she told them politely, “I have a request on behalf of the Youth of Jedlowa.”

“Of course, Irina,” they told her, smiling indulgently.

She held herself as tall and straight as possible. “Elders, we are the future of Quhjan, are we not?”

“Indeed, you are,” Elder Alexeyef told her, still smiling. 

“And, we will create a new Quhjan, one that will be part of Bosilke, and proud of our traditions.”

“Of course, you will,” Elder Soltukof said. “His Majesty, Elder Alexandrov, is already doing that. Did you hear that he wants an escort of Quhjani riders to show His Majesty what Quhjani warriors are like?”

“Yes, I was surprised to hear that after the news that he was injured, but who knows what Elder Alexandrov was thinking by letting that rumour circulate,” Elder Alexeyef smiled. “We will support him, though, since he probably has a plan in mind.”

Irina smiled. “He probably does,” he agreed, even though she had no idea. “Elders, I would like to ask the Council’s permission for us, the Youth of Jedlowa, to go visit my brother at the borders with Oerestand.” 

“Excuse me?”

“A new Quhjan will need new teachings as well as old traditions. Elders, we want to learn from the example that my brother is creating.”

“But, all of you want to go?”

“Yes, Sirs.” She smiled sweetly. “Elders, my brother is creating a new Empire. Let us learn from his example. Let us become the future you want us to be.”

Elder Alexeyef patted her shoulder. “Ah, Irina, you don’t know what you are asking,” he smiled. “It will be a long and arduous journey.”

“I just came back from six months of traveling across the west. Two days from here to the borders is not a long trip. Or do you think us, the Youth of Jedlowa, unable to travel for two days?”

Elder Soltukof laughed. “She got you there, Elder Alexeyef. We can arrange a suitable escort for our illustrious Youth to go visit His Majesty, Lady Alexandrovna,” he told her with a smile. 

“Thank you.” She nodded at them and ran down the stairs. “Katya, Katya!”

The Elders laughed behind her. “Young people these days. Let them have their little trip, Petrik. What harm can come of it?”

None at all! 

&*&*

Ekaterina looked around at the Barracks of the Imperial Guards. She knew of the building, of course, but she had never been there before. From the outside, it was like a small fortress at the side of Ivanhof that would have looked out of place if it weren’t hidden behind a dense thicket. From inside the courtyard, it looked even more forbidding. 

“This is no place for Ladies,” Yelena told her. 

“No. Those poor women,” she agreed with her Lady-in-waiting.

One of the guards ran to her carriage and opened the door for her. “Your Grace, what are you doing here?”

“I have come to see the Quhjani wives,” she smiled. “I heard they are having problems adjusting to life at Ivanhof.”

The man let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Your Grace. They are! They think they are at Jedlowa.” He led her inside a large building. From an open door she glanced a large room with two rows of long tables, and assumed that must have been their Main Hall, but the Guard continued down a flight of stairs and led her inside a kitchen. 

Both her Ladies-in-waiting gasped. “These women are all in delicate condition,” Marfa whispered. “Why are they doing the cooking?”

The Guard nodded. “Yes,” he said miserably. “No matter how often I have told Efi that she need not do this, she tells me it’s her job to cook for me since I please her. Please, help me, Your Grace!”

Ekaterina nodded. “I will.”

The Guard cleared his throat loudly. “Ladies,” he told them, and they all ignored him. “Efi, my love, could you stop for a moment? Please, darling?”

A tall brunette with her hair in braids, stopped kneading. “Yes, Gleb, my darling?”

“This is Her Grace, the Duchess of Mikhanzhij, the Chancellor’s wife. She has come to pay you a visit. All of you.”

At this, the women stopped and stared at her curiously. 

“You’re supposed to curtsy,” Gleb told them hurriedly, gesturing at them. 

A tall blonde huffed. 

“No need for such formalities,” Ekaterina told them pleasantly. “I came here to have tea with you and ask how you are settling at Ivanhof.”

“Tea?” The tall blonde asked. “We can do that. Sit,” she told her, pointing at one of the tables in the middle of the room, before waddling to the stove.

“That is Sana, Your Grace. She’s their Leader,” he whispered. 

“Is she one of the Twelve Familes?”

Gleb shook his head. “Her family has owned the best tavern at Jedlowa for generations. They know everyone and everything.”

“Ah.” She smiled as she sat, Yelena and Marfa also taking a seat and looking awkward around them. “Wouldn’t that be easier if you let a servant prepare the tea? We have plenty at Ivanhof.”

Sana chuckled. “Servants are for Ladies.”

“You are also Ladies.”

“We are Wives, and taking care of the house is our job, not a servant’s.”

“Servants can help, though.”

“Yes, when you have a big house, but we don’t.” Sana poured water in a teapot, grinning. “Like everyone else, I share my husband’s room,” she said.

“That must be very uncomfortable.”

“It is for Vanya,” she laughed. “He doesn’t fit in the bed now that I am this big, so he sleeps on the floor.”

“Oh!”

“So do I,” whispered Gleb. “The Quartermaster had prepared the Guesthouse for them, after the Captain’s orders, but our darlings refused to use it.”

“A wife’s place is by her husband,” Efi told Gleb sternly.

“And she shares everything with him.”

Ekaterina smiled. No wonder Elik thought that his place was by Nikolaj, including the battlefield. It was a Quhjani thing. 

“Well, except her property,” Sana laughed. “I need to think of my child first before I make Vanya a co-owner of The Stag.”

“You own property?” Yelena asked her. 

“Of course. You don’t?”

“My husband does.”

The Quhjani women looked at them curiously. “And what if you separate?”

“We don’t separate,” Marfa replied.

“Even when your husband is not pleasing you anymore?” One of them asked.

They stared at them curiously. 

“Gleb, we are talking women’s things. What are you doing here? Out!” Efi commanded him, and Gleb ran out. “Men,” she huffed. 

Sana brought the tea pot to them and sat down. “I first married Vanya for a few weeks, tried him out, and decided that compared to the men I had married until then, he was…” She smiled. “He was not bad at all!” She laughed loudly as she poured the tea. “When he came back, I married him.”

“I also tried my Samuil before marrying him,” another of the women said as she brought more tea. “He was my first virgin too! I had to teach him how to use his thing.”

The women laughed with her.

Ekaterina felt her cheeks burn! They too talked of their husbands, but not like this! Only with Mark and her lovers was she so forward. “What do you mean, you married your husband for a few weeks?” Ekaterina asked Sana. 

“You see… what’s your name? I can’t call you ‘Your Grace’ as if we are at a drawing room. We are in the kitchen!”

“Ekaterina,” she said, smiling. “This is Yelena, and this is Marfa.”

“Pleased to meet you. I am Sana, and this is…”

Ekaterina nodded as Sana introduced all the women in the room. Marrying someone for a few weeks? And owning property? On their own? And separating husbands that did not please them? Elik was sweet, but he clearly had no clue about Quhjani women and their things!

Ah, men!

&*&*

Count Njedzic had already left his correspondence from that morning on the desk. He sat down and opened the first letter.

_Grodhold, 21st of Fire Month,_

_Your Imperial Majesty,_

_I am under house arrest ever since Your Majesty has declared war, and it has taken me days before I could manage to send this report. Please, accept my apologies._

_The news of the unrest in Your Majesty’s army has reached the capital, and as I have learned, everyone at Fredrik’s court is jubilant and expects…_

_Your Majesty, I will be honest, even though I am the bearer of bad news and I know you will be most displeased at what you will read now._

_Fredrik, that most wretched of men, has hatched a plot most vile with the most devious of all the crowned heads in the world, that two-faced snake Francis: THEY PLAN TO KILL HIS MAJESTY! And throw you into deep despair and force you to withdraw, and then stir up trouble that you … I DARE NOT WRITE IT!!!_

_But I must, because what more can you do to your poor and humble servant? I have not left my house in weeks and Fredrik has shown himself unwilling to listen to the requests of my friends at court to at least allow me to return home._

_Your humble servant will die here, loyal as ever, so I will write this:_

_The two human-shaped snakes plan to put your cousin Kallinik on the throne, since he is both your second cousin, and descendant of His Most Noble Majesty, Emperor Viktor, but also married to your own Noble Mother’s cousin, Princess Predeslava, thus gaining an advantage over your other cousins, whose wives do not come from such prestigious families as the Barianins._

_However, now, after the unrest, everyone at his court is betting on this: will Your Majesty lose his head first because of the mutiny, or because of the murder of His Most Gracious Majesty?_

_Oh, if only your servant could notify the court at Ivanhof! Sire, you will never believe what it took to send this letter to you (nor can you see the tears I shed at the thought of it not reaching you – but what more can Fredrik do to me if he does intercept it but kill me?_

_As always, I remain Your Majesty’s most humble and obedient and loyal servant as long as I live,_

_Sebastiane Lebedev_

He read the letter again. 

Could the Barianins be behind this all along? They had been tormenting his darling ever since they had married. Or, had they seen an opportunity when Francis and Fredrik…

“Your Excellency,” he called his secretary.

Count Njedzic appeared a moment later. “Your Majesty?”

“Have this copied and sent immediately to Mark. Also?”

“Yes?”

“Nothing.” It would have been nice to discuss this with Grisha, but the man was on leave. “Do you know if the men are doing more drills?”

Count Njedzic shook his head, grinning. “His Excellency, Count Lesnev, has them writing essays on the battle of Fellentak. They must finish by lunch time, and then evaluate their work among themselves in the afternoon.”

He laughed. “I think Grisha is trying to cure them from their need for romance.”

“Well, they did enjoy seeing His Excellency, Count d’Heunnigcoeur, reunite with his husband yesterday, so now they have even higher hopes for a Grand Love Scene.”

He had high hopes for that scene too, if he were honest. But mostly, he cared for one thing only. That Vasya was coming with his darling! Ah! His darling!

&*&*

Vadim approached him the moment he had started washing his hands after relieving himself. “Yes, Vadim?”

“Sir, the plan to eliminate the threat to His Majesty is still…”

He nodded. “I do hope it won’t come to that, but if it does, we will be the closest to implement it.”

“I see. I am sorry for not realising it sooner.” Vadim looked embarrassed. “I say this on behalf of everyone.”

“As I said, it may not happen. Right now, I’m more concerned about what will happen once His Majesty starts his Grand Entrance and news of his miraculous recovery and appearance at the other side of the Empire start flying, but,” he smiled at Vadim, “by the time the news starts circulating and Francis’ men come to Oerestand, we should have him safe at the camp. And, until we get him there, we will protect him, won’t we?” 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you. Ready for the next leg of our journey?” He grinned as he hurried to his next horse. 

Ah, traveling with a Hundred Men would mean traveling more slowly as well as letting rumours fly, he thought as he mounted it and gestured for them to start following him. More time to think of what he wanted to tell Grisha.

More time to think that, in the end, words mattered little. No, only love mattered. How he hoped that Grisha forgave him, so that Vasily could show him his love! 

&*&*

Nikolaj tried not to groan when lunch was interrupted. Again! Why? Wasn’t the mutiny that was permanently stalled ended? And everyone was in a state of grief over what befallen his sweet Consort? What was so urgent this time? He looked at Grisha, and found him staring at the messenger with an expression of dread, while his two escorts stared with apprehension at the newcomer. 

“One of yours?” he asked Grisha. 

“Yes, Sire. What news, Boris?”

“His Majesty,” Boris cried out with excitement, “Your Majesty. Like a most caring…” He frowned. “Well, he’s not a mother but he is your Empress and… This is so confusing,” he sighed.

“Boris, calm down,” Grisha told him quietly. 

“But, Sir, The Major had put it so well and I forgot his exact words! They were perfect,” Boris cried. 

Nikolaj smiled. “Never mind that, Boris, would you mind telling us your news?”

The man nodded. “His Majesty and the Members of the Council wrote these decrees on military matters. Even in pain, His Majesty thought of his poor soldiers!” He took out some papers, unfolded them and everyone but Nikolaj stood up and in attention as they listened to what his darling and his ministers had decreed. 

He would have preferred a full law with all the planned reforms for the military, but he could understand how the circumstances had forced his darling’s hand. At least, these were the three main points of that law they had planned. He smiled, thinking of how carefully worded the decree was, so that no one could take sole credit for the reforms, but presented them instead as something that had been considered for a while by all of them. 

When the messenger finished reading, Nikolaj too stood up and everyone looked at him. “Even injured, Our Most Sweet and Precious Consort thinks of Our army first.”

“Hurrah for the Consort,” someone shouted excitedly. 

“Hurrah,” Nikolaj said as well and everyone started cheering. 

When they had calmed down, he asked Boris about the second decree, and was not that surprised that it was a general pardon to all the ring-leaders of the mutiny. Had anyone but Vasya led that mutiny that never became a rebellion, would his love have been as forgiving? He did not ask, but smiled instead. “Gentlemen, Our men should hear these decrees. Please, have them gathered,” he told Mir.

“I also have letters,” Boris whispered as Mir ran out of the room. He approached Nikolaj, bowed deeply and gave him a letter from Mark before also following Mir out. 

He opened it immediately. 

_Ivanhof, 30th of Fire Month,_

_Your Imperial Majesty,_

_I am enclosing here a letter from His Majesty, who cannot be seen sending letters as he is so ‘unwell’._

_Ah, Nikolaj, you should have seen him yesterday! He is tired of being ‘unwell’. I so hope that Grisha’s plan works and we can all stop worrying about assassins from Ustvela, and go back to worrying about court factions and what to do about the Barianins and the Milkiutins. I fear we may need to send the army against their castles, for I do not expect them to surrender peacefully when they receive the warrant for their arrest._

_At least he understands how it is necessary to stay at the retreat until this situation is resolved and we have made sure he has all his favourite books with him to keep him company!_

_Yours most humble and obedient servant,_

_Mark_

He stared at the floor until he was able to control himself a little. He really wanted to laugh. Instead, he sighed deeply. “My poor love is suffering so much.”

His Generals looked at him kindly and sympathetically. 

He sighed again and unfolded his darling’s letter. Half-way through they heard a loud roar from outside. It took him a few minutes to realise it was the men cheering.

General Davin sighed. “Under any other circumstances, we would celebrate this with a Ball. Your Majesties have been most generous and kind to your servants.”

“Why not?” Nikolaj smiled, trying to look wistful. “Our Most Precious loves nothing more than dancing and balls. Perhaps, getting news of how well the decrees were received will cheer him up, and help him recover sooner.”

“Then, a Ball we shall have,” General Loviljin said, smiling. “Tonight!”

General Mrishsnan nodded. “A Ball like no other. With your permission, Sire, we need to prepare.”

Bowing, they almost ran out of the dining room.

Nikolaj turned to Grisha. “I read that a certain officer did so much to calm the rebellion that he deserves to be rewarded handsomely. Only, the writer of this missive has no idea what reward would serve.” He smiled. “Your Excellency, how would you like having a neighbour next to your Lake Djerem residence?”

Grisha stared at him, stunned. 

He looked like he was about to protest. Nikolaj stood up. “I must reply to Mark,” he said before Grisha could complain. “I will see you at the Ball, Your Excellency.”

Grisha’s annoyed huff was the funniest thing he had heard all day! 

&*&*

Peter the Tall stood up as soon as they had all sat down for lunch. Oh, they would discuss their village? Roman touched Stepan’s hand and smiled at him. 

“Our committee,” Peter the Tall started, “has arranged a meeting with Master Dulgorov in two weeks. That should give us enough time to finalize our proposals for our village.”

“Hurrah! And what about the…” Prokop bit his lips for a moment, “the Wives?”

Leonid stood up. “Their representatives,” he glanced at Vanya, “Will also take part in the meeting.”

“I think it’s right that they are there,” Stepan said quietly. “We will be at work most of the day; they will live there.”

Vanya nodded. “And they have good ideas.”

“Brother Stepan is right, they should have a say in something that affects them,” Roman smiled. “As Granny Fenya says, if birds can build nests together, so should humans.” He noted happily that even his brothers not married to Quhjani people smiled at that and looked thoughtful. 

“And the sooner we get that village done, the sooner we will be able to sleep in beds again!” Gleb sighed. 

“Yes, why didn’t they like the Guesthouse? It is a nice house,” Kolya said. 

“The Major himself has redesigned the garden!” Vlas told them, as if they didn’t know. 

“I think they wanted the Grannies and the Mamas to have the nice beds,” Roman smiled above the whispers that Sila and Peter the Short started at the mention of the Major. 

Evsevii grinned, seeing that those two would not stop. “Brothers, what is the matter?”

Peter the Short stood up. “Brothers, I have news to share! Well,” he glanced at Sila, “We have.”

Yuri stared at them. “You are getting married? But, Sila, you don’t like men!”

“Not all news has to be about marriage, Yuri,” Sila huffed. “Really.”

Peter the Short chuckled. “Although, this kind of is.” He checked that the door to the Main Hall was closed. “Brothers, we have written a story, and we will present it to you at dessert.”

“We have to go back to the Capital after dessert,” Sofron protested, gesturing towards the brothers sitting next to him. “We think we broke the code used by that wretched man who tried to murder our Young Lord. If we are right, we will have the names of all his accomplices!”

“And where they hide!”

“Hurrah!”

Roman smiled. His brothers were so good! He wished he too were good at something! What if he passed his review, and had no suggestions about where to specialize next? He didn’t want to leave the Unit. 

“So, you must present your story now,” Sidor told them. 

“As you wish,” Sila nodded. 

Even with Sila skipping all the battle tactics and the very explicit details, it still took almost all of lunch time to finish reading the story. They all stared at him when he was finished. 

“It’s good but…”

“Yes, Kolya?”

“I heard the Ladies’ stories, and from the beginning, you had a sense who the characters were. Major Vasily is serious and meticulous, and that is established already from the first paragraph of _Waiting_. In _Meeting a Stranger at the Costume Ball_ , you know from the start that Major Grigori is observant, worldly, and cynical. Here? You just start with them under a waterfall. Yes, we all agree that the Majors wet must be a sight to behold, but all we learn is that they are handsome.”

“Yes, and we only find out that they are married and they want some privacy when they go to the cave,” Flor said. 

“The reader expects something different when, until that point, he thinks they are ….” Eynar shivered with excitement, “unmarried and cheating on their fiancées!” 

“And, since you didn’t read that part, my question is one of ignorance. Are the tactics described in a manner that will be easily understood by all?” Roman asked them.  
Peter the Short looked at them. “Clearly we need to work more on the story.”

“At least that will give Viktor something to do,” Sila laughed. 

&*&*

“Thank you, Captain, for assisting me with placing our orders,” Jan said as Vasya stood up. The moment he turned his back, Jan winked at them and followed him into the tavern. 

“I still can’t believe he agreed to let us stop for lunch so easily,” Valery said. 

“Your argument was convincing,” Elik told him. “We will move more slowly once we meet with the hundred riders from Jedlowa. A small delay now won’t matter.”

“Yes, all that is nice,” Vadim said, “but we need to talk before they come back.”

“Well, what is it?”

Vadim lowered his voice. “Even though I agree that writing a story about the Majors like the ones that His Excellency has written is a great idea, I think that the best story would be their true story.”

Elik nodded. “I would happily pay for that romance. But how do we get everything out of him?”

Everyone looked at him.

“What? No.”

“But you are his superior. He will obey you if you ask,” Valery told him. 

“I don’t want to make him obey me,” he protested. “If I do, he will be cross with me.”

“No, he will not,” Maxim told him. 

Elik nodded. “He will be, because he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. You know as well as I do that he likes his secrets. I may be his sovereign, but our relationship is not that of a Master and slave, it is one based on trust.” He stopped. “Ah, Vasya,” he grinned and waved, alerting everyone that they had to stop this discussion. 

Vasya approached them and put down a tray filled with glasses and two water jugs. “They will bring our food to us as soon as it is ready.” Jan followed him with a tray with small bowls full of snacks. 

“Wonderful. Vasya?”

“Yes, Sire?”

He frowned. “I’m Demyan.”

“Demyan does not call me Vasya, Sire.”

“This is all so confusing,” he sighed. 

Vasya nodded. “Well, what did you want to ask?”

“How would you describe the relationship between Malk the Ever Fierce and his courtiers? Before they founded Quhjan?”

“As that of a Lord and his vassals, probably. The lord rewards his vassals for their services with land, and they offer him their trust and loyalty in return, supporting him in campaigns and council. However, this loyalty is reciprocal. The lord also is obliged to support his vassal in case of an attack from enemies. After all, a lord’s status and prestige are enhanced by his vassals, and he too needs them, as they need him.”

“I see. Is that like the relationship between lord and knight?”

“Indeed, but on a different scale. A lord offers his protection to a knight, the knight offers his services, and they both trust that the other will fulfil their obligations towards them. As unequal as the relationship may be, it is still one based on trust and loyalty that must be kept by both parties.”

Elik nodded. “I like that.” He glanced at the others, hoping they had understood what he had been trying to tell them. If he was the lord, then Vasya was his knight. He was also his brother, and he would not betray his trust, no matter what his other brothers wanted. 

Vasya smiled. “Maybe because you like romances?” he teased him. “Knights and lords only appear in romances, after all, not in reality. At least, they have not appeared in the last three hundred years of Bosilke’s history.”

Elik reddened. “There’s nothing wrong with romances.”

“No, of course, not,” Vasya agreed mildly.

“But you don’t read them, do you, Captain?”

“Only because I prefer history. Literature is not as interesting as reality. Have you ever heard of king Lodovico the Dark and his love, Anna the Graceful?”

“No,” Elik said and was happy to see that the others looked just as curious. 

“He lived in the southern kingdom of Kamyria, while our land was still a kingdom, ruled by Oleg I. He was a good king, whose only fault was that he loved not his wife, but one of her ladies. When his wife died, he thought that he would be allowed to marry his love, yet his courtiers opposed him and tried to make him marry a princess from the neighbouring kingdom of Tornosa. His love, Anna, became so distressed over causing such a strife between the king and his court, that she fell ill and died.”

Maxim made a face. “I don’t like romances that end unhappily.”

Valery also nodded. 

Elik agreed. “We have a lot of those at Quhjan. They are miserable.”

“Oh.” Vasya looked awkward. “Actually, when you hear what happened next, you will all think it a story from Quhjan.”

“Why, what happened?”

“He married her.” Vasya stopped. “After she died. And made everyone obey her as Queen, and had her embalmed and seated next to him, until a fire burned through the palace, and the Queen’s body perished in the flames. Lodovico died soon after, after going mad with grief, and saying that he saw her beckoning him wherever he went.”

Maxim shuddered. “That’s a real story?”

“It is.”

Elik also shivered. “It really is like something we would tell at Quhjan to make people obey the council’s decrees. Vasya, don’t you know any happy romances from history? This was truly miserable!”

“Yes, Sir, it was,” Maxim said, and the others nodded with him. 

“The story of Queen Olga the Wise who avenged her husband’s murder?”

Wasn’t she the one who burned the murderers alive, then went to their country, and burned their capital to the ground? 

“No,” they all said, Jan and Andrik grimacing. 

“The story of the brave soldier of fortune Carlo de Mosnan y Paznev, and the daughter of the governor of the fortress he was hired to protect?”

“How does it end?” Valery asked warily.

“He died in action before the fortress fell, of course, and she was captured and sold as a slave.”

“No,” they huffed. 

“Romance means love!” Maxim shouted, making people from the tables close to theirs in the tavern garden stare at them.

“And happy endings! There have been too many sad endings in the romances I have read,” Elik told them seriously. 

Vasya studied them. “I know,” he grinned. “The story of King Luis and his Queen Katalina, whose union joined their kingdoms, who ruled as one, and conquered the lands that would become known as Sarajonia afterwards. That’s a nice romance, with a lot of very exciting battles!”

Elik smiled. “Maybe you can skip the battles?”

“Yes, we just want the romance!”

“Was it mutual love at first sight?”

“Or did one of them pursue the other until the other realised that their love was true?”

“And did Queen Katalina join her husband in the battlefield?” Elik really had to know the answer to that!

&*&*

“I wonder why the Ladies are having tea on their own today,” Vassily said. 

“Ekaterina did not tell me why.” A servant passed him a note and he opened it. “Gentlemen, I have just received some urgent news. With your permission.” He stood up and hurried to his office, where Sasha’s letter was waiting for him. 

He smiled as he started reading. His using the truth to scare Sasha to his senses had worked! So had his plan to send him the story that Lady Irina and her Official Friend had written. But…. 

How could Sasha think the fantastical elements were living without servants and making their own meals? Was Sasha a complete idiot? Vasya had been disinherited, cut off from all the family wealth, and left without any support from his relatives. As for Grisha? He’d never had any money to begin with. How could they not have learned how to prepare their own food? How could they have servants after having learned to do without them?

“Ah, Sasha, how can you be so….” He sighed. Sometimes, he had no words to describe Sasha! 

He continued reading and then, still shocked from what Sasha had declared in his letter, read what Sasha had produced, both the adult and the version for the Young Ladies. It was strange; he could recognize both in the characters, and yet, they weren’t Vasya nor Grisha as he knew them. Sasha had created something that was as fantastical as _Meeting a Stranger at the Costume Ball_ , yet it was grounded on reality like _Waiting_. It was truly strange reading about this story that could have happened, had Vasya been older and had Grisha been more experienced when the two had met. 

Taking a few deep breaths, he stared at the two stories. He ought to pretend they didn’t exist, but he was certain that Sasha would demand knowing how the Young Ladies had received his work. And… Nikolaj had received a copy already, hadn’t he? There was no point pretending this didn’t exist; he was certain that Nikolaj would talk about it sooner or later. It was the kind of story he would enjoy, after all, with a couple exploring their feelings and their bodies at the same time, in several different positions. 

Smiling, he started writing to Her Excellency. 

Hm… If news of Nikolaj’s pardon to Sasha had reached them almost a week earlier, then it would have reached Sasha by now, or within the next couple of days at the latest. He gasped. Sasha would be back in ten-twelve days at the most! 

He couldn’t wait!

&*&*

Ekaterina finished telling the Ladies what the Quhjani women had told her. Her tea had grown cold by that time, but she didn’t care. This was more important! 

“We should all go visit them tomorrow,” Princess Olga said. 

“Yes, cousin,” Princess Xenia smiled at her.

“Yes, we must learn more about short marriages!”

“And owning property!”

They all nodded. 

“And we should ask more about their dresses. They looked comfortable,” Marfa said admiringly.

“Maybe we could design our official court dresses based on the Quhjani ones!”

“Oh, tomorrow will be so much fun! I can’t wait to meet these women! They really own their property?” Nathalia asked again. 

Ekaterina nodded. 

“Imagine that!”

&*&*

Mark smiled at his boys as they saluted him. “At ease,” he told them once the door was closed. “Have a seat.” 

They stared at him curiously as they followed his suggestion. 

“Did you enjoy the stories I lent you yesterday?”

They nodded, Filon smiling slowly and Artyom blushing a little. 

He grinned. “Here,” he said, offering them the adult version that Sasha had sent him. “Another very educational story,” he told them. He might as well show it to them at this point and have them share it with their friends, as he was certain they had done with the other two. Otherwise, Filon and Artyom would see it later, together with Ekaterina, and then ask for it the following day. Having them beg for it would be fun, but that night, he wanted to see their gratitude for his gift. 

Filon took it first and glanced at it. “Artyom,” he whispered, showing him what had to be one of the illustrations. 

“Who wrote this?”

“A friend,” he smiled. “Who is a hypocrite, writing against slavery when he owns slaves himself, but,” he sighed, “If you meet him, don’t tell him that. He probably didn’t even realise it. He’s a good writer but a bit of an idiot,” he sighed again. 

Artyom flipped the pages. “Look,” he said excitedly. He turned towards Mark showing him the illustration where the young count had finally found the courage to respond to his servant’s advances and was happily kissing him as their hands played with… Ah, they were just two characters, he reminded himself. “Tonight, can we do this?” 

“If you wish,” he told them happily, wondering how it would be to have them both trying to kiss him and caress his cock at the same time as he played with their lovely dicks. 

“What about Katya?” Filon asked. 

“What if you try this with Katya, while I try it with Mark? Or, we could switch.”

“Or, you could try it among yourselves while we watch you for a while,” Mark suggested. Filon and Artyom were both blond, so it would not be the same as watching The Kiss! but he was certain that it would be just as exciting.

Ah, he really wanted to hear Nikolaj’s opinion of Sasha’s story! Would it also bring back memories to him?

How curious he was!

&*&*

Everyone looked at them when they entered the Main Hall.

“Filon, Artyom, don’t you usually have dinner with the Chancellor?” Leonid finally asked them as they took their seat.

“Yes, but… We have a story!” Artyom grinned.

“That kind of story,” Filon laughed, enjoying the murmurs their statement had caused. 

“You rewrote the story with Viktor already?” 

“Oh, no,” Filon replied to Flor, grinning. “This is the story of a young nobleman who finds the new stable hand far too attractive, however, he dares not make any advances towards him, since he thinks it might be too presumptuous.”

“That’s an unusual nobleman,” Peter the Short said. 

“Yes, he even makes a little speech about the evils of slavery, and how happy he is that all the people working their lands are free.”

“Ooh, and what happens next?” Kolya grinned.

“They kiss,” Sila snorted. 

“Eventually,” Artyom agreed. “But first, the stable hand realizes that the young nobleman will never make the first move, so he is the one who propositions him!”

“Oh, how exciting!” Kolya said. “It’s always the noblemen running after the maids or the shepherdesses. That’s a nice change!”

“It’s a nice change that they are two men,” Yuri said emphatically, making all his brothers who preferred men exclusively nod, as well as some of those who liked both men and women. Artyom also smiled, agreeing with them. 

“And then they kiss?” Sila laughed.

“Oh, no, they do more than that. It is a story for adults, Brothers!”

“And it is a little educational too,” Artyom said. “The anti-slavery speech is not bad.”

Filon nodded. “How odd that it was written by a slave-owner,” he muttered. “Some people are weird. So, who wants to wait for the story to be served with dessert?”

&*&*

Grigori looked at Evgeni and His Excellency dancing slowly together. They were a handsome couple, and only one of three couples of men among the couples that were currently on the dance floor in the Ball the Generals had decided to host in honour of His Majesty’s most unexpected and wonderful decrees. 

“Do you wish your husband were here so you could dance with him?” His Majesty asked him softly. “I do.”

He smiled. He wished Vasya were there so he could ask him what he had done or said at Krzydzov to make King Francis and his coterie think he and His Majesty were so dangerous, and Prince Anton and his friends to consider him a friend. The more he saw His Excellency and Evgeni and knew that he couldn’t possibly ask them, the more he wanted to ask Vasya. 

“Would you dance with me?” His Majesty asked when that dance finished and another, just as slow and stately, and intended to be danced by couples, started. 

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s just a dance,” he laughed, “not a seduction attempt.” His Majesty suddenly leaned down. “Not that I would turn you down if you ever came to my bed,” he whispered.

Grigori stared at him, even more shocked. “Are you drunk, Sire?”

He started laughing. “Your expression.” He took Grigori’s hand and led him to the dance floor. “No, I am not, dear friend, and I am just teasing you. Also?” he laughed. “I enjoy seeing how scandalized your escorts look. I can practically read the report they are composing for Vasya right now.”

He tried not to glare or sigh at him and failed at both. “They are both good, loyal men, Sire, who genuinely like my husband, or they wouldn’t have been taking care of me for weeks. They really don’t do it for me, but for him. It is not right of you to tease them so.”

“How long before they are here, you think?”

“It depends on how fast they travel. Perhaps in two days, perhaps in a week.”

“I see. Do you think I am foolish for not advancing?”

Grigori shrugged, stiffened in pain for a moment, and then smiled at him. “Sire, I am hardly in a position to judge you when I am determined to stay here and wait for Vasya. It would have been best if you advanced, but if your emotions cloud your judgment, perhaps it is better to wait. As you yourself said, you can try again next year.”

“I wonder if I should start preparing something for my darling. Maybe a ball in his honour?”

“I wonder what excuse they will come up with to explain how he is both here and severely wounded in the Capital,” Grigori snorted. 

“Surely, he will come here secretly.”

“Surely, but he is a very memorable young Consort of Imperial Rank. Any soldier who has seen him is unlikely to forget him, and you do have men here who fought with you against Oerestand last year.”

His Majesty stopped moving. “Fuck. That is true.” He started dancing again. “I don’t…. It really makes no sense. Why is he coming here? And why didn’t Vasya discourage him?”

He smiled. “I told you already. Vasya is devoted to him. If His Majesty asked Vasya to bring him here, do you think he would manage to deny him? I don’t.”

“You make it sound like he’s in love with him,” His Majesty said a little tensely.

Grigori took a deep breath. Love had made His Majesty a jealous fool! “Sire, he is not. I swear this to you. I saw them together and I can assure you, he is not.” 

“Hm, you know your husband better than anyone,” he finally smiled. “If you say he’s not in love with my darling, I will believe you. Because, Vasya or not, if he tries anything….” He said threateningly, and Grigori knew this was not a mock threat.

“Sire,” Grigori protested loudly with a huff, “Vasya would never. His Majesty is his king, and he always takes his duties very seriously.”

“Yes, that he does. Ah, I do need my darling. Grisha, if anything happens to him, I don’t know what will become of me,” he whispered. “Can you help me become stronger?”

What would Vasya say? No, he didn’t have to ask that; he only had to ask himself what had Vasya done, when he had thought he was going to lose him. “I am certain that Nature or Love will help you find strength within you,” he reassured him. 

His Majesty looked at him strangely. “I thought you hated romances.”

“I do but… Vasya has been there. If love or nature or whatever force gave him the strength to smile at me after spending hours crying because he thought I was dying, then you will find that strength too.”

His Majesty sighed. “Grisha, honestly, how can you hate romances when you have Vasya?”

“Because that’s not a romance, Sire. That’s Vasya being Vasya.”

His Majesty shook his head. “Really,” he muttered, “you have no clue!”

Well, he did not! He smiled pleasantly and continued to dance. How he missed his Vasya! They really had a lot to talk about.

&*&*

Elik followed Vasily out of the safehouse and stared up at the stars with him. Within minutes, the others were in the garden as well. 

“What will people write of me, I wonder?” Elik asked them softly. “I want to leave a good story behind me.” He grinned. “And an even better romance!”

Maxim and the others laughed. “That would be nice!”

“And you, Vasya?”

He smiled. He was no king to worry about such things, and had no children to pass on his stories. Who cared what he left behind, when he would be forgotten within years of his passing? All that mattered was that he lived decently and honourably, and with Grisha, if Grisha allowed it. “A good story. That sounds good to me too. What are we but the sum of our stories, after all?”

“Do you have more good stories, Captain?”

“Romances!”

“Yes, ones where lovers get together even though everything is against them.”

“And they live happily ever after.”

What ideas they had! These brave, young people dreaming of romances, perhaps they would change the world that wanted them bound to tradition. “Perhaps,” he told them. “Would you like to hear about a knight who lived a long, long time ago? He was brave and clever, but he was not satisfied with what he had. No, he wanted adventure, and travels, to woo beautiful ladies with the charm of his words and make men admire and respect him with his sword skills. It is a good story!”

“Oh, yes,” Elik said happily. “Let me get a few blankets so we can sit outside. Does anyone want more tea?”

He smiled as the Guards followed Elik inside. Just because he had no children, it did not mean that he had to keep his stories to himself. Grisha would agree with him; he was certain of that.


	79. Chapter 79

7th 

Elik sat up, looking around with curiosity. Everyone was still asleep but for Vasya, who was writing something. “Is it time to leave?” he whispered, yawning.

“No, it is time to sleep in if you want,” he smiled. 

He shook his head. “What are you doing?”

“Writing a list of the things I want to talk about to Grisha.”

“Ah. You really talk about everything.”

“We do,” he replied, smiling again and putting down his pencil. 

“We also talk, but…” he felt his cheeks grow warm. Most of the time, their discussions were interrupted by other things. “You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbled. 

“Oh, I would. We too were young when we first fell in love.” Vasya’s cheeks also reddened. “We didn’t do much talking those days,” he grinned. 

“Really?”

Vasya nodded. “Ah, when we first discovered what we could do with….” He smiled at him. “I do understand.” 

He stood up and came to sit next to Vasya, who had been lying close to the door. “Vasya?” He stopped. No, he couldn’t ask. But he really wanted to know. Oh, how could he? He wanted to, but shouldn’t, but he really wanted and ….

“Brother, what troubles you? What do you want to ask?”

Oh, well, since Vasya offered. “Vasya, how did you know you were in love? And did you kiss him first, or did he?”

“Elik, you want more romances?” Vasya teased him, his eyes shining with amusement. 

Elik nodded, grinning widely. “Yes, please? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I wouldn’t mind listening if you did.”

“If that is so…. I just knew,” he said simply. “And, we kissed at the same time.” His smile softened and he stayed silent. 

One minute turned to two and Elik realized that he wouldn’t say another word. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Elik smiled. “I see that you do not want to tell this story.”

“It is not a story. Not to me. And it is not mine to tell. If Grisha agrees, then I will tell you everything you want to know.” H stood up. “Or maybe not,” he grinned. 

“No wonder you are a spy, Brother. You like your secrets.”

“I am an Intelligence Officer, Brother. Not a spy. I hate that word. It makes what we do sound wrong and secretive.”

“Whereas it is not secretive?”

“No. It is about gathering information, assessing potential threats, and eliminating danger with the least cost to the Empire. It’s a noble work.”

“Full of secrets,” Elik added.

“Indeed,” Vasya smiled. 

Elik stood up to go to the privy. “Still, when you decide to tell your story, I will be glad to hear it.” 

“Why? There’s nothing really interesting to tell.”

“But, Sir, wouldn’t it be better if you told your story? Rather than let others do it?” Vadim asked quietly the moment Elik went into the small room. 

“Yes, but who would care to listen to the story of two officers trying to do their work? Now, if Grisha actually found time to write his techniques and tips on the successful cross-breeding of roses, or even better, his book on garden design, that would be something worth reading. That would be even better than our cookbook on potatoes! Or, maybe just as good. I was thinking, what would happen if I mixed potato puree with white sauce, let the mixture cool, and then shape it and fry it? Or even, if I put something in the middle? Maybe mushrooms? Or meat? I’d need to use eggs to bind it or would white sauce be enough? And which potatoes would be best?”

“You got him talking potatoes again,” Maxim shouted. 

“I swear, potatoes are the best of all foods. One day, Grisha and I will cook you a full feast with potatoes as the main ingredient. Although, if it is for all of you, I will need help.”

"Anything, just no more talk of potatoes!"

Elik grinned. Potatoes. Vasya was obsessed with them. It was so amusing!

&*&*

Mark looked up the moment everyone was in the Council meeting room.

“You look troubled,” Pavel said as he took his seat.

“I am, a little. Dima, have you received any reports about expectations of a bad crops this year?”

“Excuse me?” Vassily asked. 

Mark smiled. “No, it’s nothing.”

Dima frowned. “As a matter of fact, we have received several letters in the last months from different provinces about the possibility of crops failure after the mild winter and the hot, dry summer, but we are not worried. There have been other years with dry summers, and not every governor has written us with such alarming news. We will manage.”

“I didn’t think you’d be concerned about such things,” Adam said, smirking. “At least, not before they became a problem to be solved.”

“I am not,” he smirked back, “But Vasya is worried and asked me to ask.”

“Tell him there is nothing to worry about,” Dima smiled. 

“I will, thank you.”

“And does he write anything about His Majesty?”

“Just that he in good spirits and they are making good progress.”

“I wonder how Nikolaj will react when he sees His Consort there,” Pavel said seriously. “He did want us to keep him busy and occupied, after all.”

“Yes, but didn’t we all agree that His Majesty would be safer there rather than here?” Mark reminded them. If all the Council had denied him, Elik would have had to stay at Ivahnof, Consort Regent or not.

Vassily grinned. “Who would imagine that an army camp would be safer than a palace.”

“Yes, if I read that, I would never believe it,” Adam nodded. 

Mark agreed with that. “There are many things I would never believe if I just read them.”

Pavel snorted. “Same here. Gentlemen, you will never believe what I caught Simeon reading last night.”

“What? Do tell!”

“A short romance! With two men as the main characters!”

Mark frowned. No, they wouldn’t have! Well, yes, they would have; he totally had expected Filon and Artyom to share Sasha’s story with their friends, but not that they would have made copies of it!

“Why do you find that so strange, Mark?” Pavel asked him, clearly misunderstanding him.

“No, I don’t. I was thinking of something completely different.”

“And?” Adam asked him. 

“And?” Pavel grinned. “A romance with two men? One of whom is a count and the other a stable hand? If I had read this first, I would never believe it, but since there already has been at least one count who has had an affair with a stable boy,” he chortled, “I can believe it.”

Mark paled. They had made copies of it. 

Dima also looked a little unwell. “Pavel, for the love of your Honoured Ancestors, please do not joke about such things.”

“Why shouldn’t I? it is true! I caught Simeon reading that story and …” he grinned, “he was quite inspired by it.”

Adam also looked serious. “That explains what Flor hid from us last night.”

Dima groaned. “Mavra will be quite upset to hear about this.”

Mavra? What about Vasya? And Grisha? When Sasha came back, he would first hug him, and then he’d spank him for his behaviour. Or maybe he should spank Filon and Artyom for allowing their friends to make copies. Yes, that was a much better idea. 

“Mark, do you want to read it?” Pavel put down a copy. “Similarities to a certain real couple aside, it is pretty entertaining.”

Mark shook his head. “Don’t mind if I do,” Adam said, grabbing it. “Oh, it’s hand-written too.”

“Yes,” Pavel smirked. “As you can see, it is a short story, only twelve pages long. Simeon told me that they took the story apart, and each page was copied by seven guards, while those who were better at drawing copied the illustrations. Thus, they produced seven copies in an hour and… I suspect they are now doing the same.”

“What? Don’t they have other things to do?” Mark gasped. How could they destroy the copy he’d given to Filon and Artyom?

Pavel smirked again. “Oh, yes. They are also writing a story about two certain characters who resemble a certain Major and his husband.”

Dima looked ready to pass out. “What?” he asked in a faint voice. 

“How did you learn that?” Mark asked him, shocked.

“Simeon wanted my opinion on something,” he laughed. “If certain descriptions of battle tactics made sense to me.”

“What?” Vassily asked, surprised. 

“They are writing a romance suitable for young soldiers, or so Simeon told me. It will have romance, but also battle descriptions and tactics, so that their fellow soldiers can learn from the example of great generals of the past. Simeon said, if someone with basic military training like me could understand, then everyone else could.” Pavel smiled widely. “Ah, they are so high-minded, these Special Imperial Guards.”

“That is not a bad idea,” Vassily grinned, “but maybe they could skip the romance and just write about the battle tactics!”

Mark and Dima nodded.

“Where is the fun in that?” Pavel protested. “Simeon also showed me what they thought those two certain characters should be doing in private, and I was greatly pleased!”

“Next thing we know, you will tell us that you too want to write a story about those certain characters,” Adam laughed. 

“I am not that good at writing romances,” Pavel told them. “I prefer getting inspired by them,” he smirked.

Mark looked at them. What had he done? He really needed to talk to his wife! She would know what they should do next. And then, he would punish Filon and Artyom. Properly. Or… maybe not; he couldn’t resist them when they shivered under his touch, and they begged him to stop. 

“Mark too looks inspired,” Adam grinned, nodding towards Mark's lap.

Vassily chuckled. 

He looked down, at the small bulge his cock was starting to make in his breeches, and everyone but Dima laughed. “I was thinking of something completely different,” he said, smirking. 

“Like, writing your own story?” Pavel laughed.

“You know the real story, after all,” Adam smiled. 

“Erm…” That wouldn’t be right. It was not his story!

“Don’t you dare,” Dima hissed. “This is Cousin Vasya you are talking about,” he shouted at them.

“Dima, he hadn’t been your Cousin Vasya for years. If Mark doesn’t mind, who has always been his cousin, why are you making such a fuss?” Pavel asked him. 

“Because Mavra will be insulted when she hears that people are dragging her family name into the mud.”

“What mud?” Mark frowned. “No one has used their surnames in any of the stories, much less Cousin Vasya’s former family name.”

“Eh? There are more stories?”

“And you knew about them?”

“Can you share them?”

Eh? Fuck! What had he done?

Mark took a deep breath. He nodded. “Gentlemen, give me a few minutes,” he said as he stood up and went to his office to fetch the other stories. How much worse could things become if he shared the stories with his friends, when Filon and Artyom had been doing the same thing for days?

&*&*

Nikolaj couldn’t stop watching with fascination as Grisha’s men instructed the other men in hand-to-hand combat. They had been divided in groups since after breakfast and watching them was even more interesting than watching them do their drills. No wonder his ordinary soldiers looked at Grisha as a legend among legends, when they received this training by Grisha’s men, the training that Grisha had given them first. 

He suddenly thought of his darling’s insistence on getting more artillery for their army, and how he had made him listen to Vasya give a passionate speech about the need for more cannons and howitzers and mortars on a morning that he would have preferred spending in bed with his darling. Elik had looked so happy on that ship. 

He finally realized what Vasya wanted. He didn’t just want more cannons because he liked blowing things up; he wanted to make sure Grisha’s men – all his men – were adequately supported and covered. It wouldn’t do to waste such men needlessly. 

Although, perhaps Vasya did want more cannons just because he liked them. When Vasya had been serving under his command, he had found him several times by the artillery officers, listening to them and their stories. 

He looked at Grisha, wondering if he would see the same pride he felt for his men and saw him completely ignoring them. “What are you writing?” Next time, he’d make Grisha sit not just to his right, but right next to him. 

Grisha closed his notebook and turned to look at him. “Sire?”

He pointed towards Grisha’s notebook. 

“Ah, that? Just a list of things I must talk to Vasya about.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Sire. Vasya wrote so many things in his letters that I need to sort out all the issues before we start discussing them.” Grisha smiled at him. “Perhaps he found some time on his journey here to sort them out, but what if he hasn’t?”

“So, you are his secretary?”

“Seeing how often he serves as mine, of course I am his,” Grisha chuckled. “I made him notify all our friends that our Autumn Feast would not be taking place this year. I wonder if he managed to write to them. He had been busy….”

“Your Autumn Feast?”

“Our wedding anniversary celebration,” Grisha smiled even more beautifully than before. 

“Ah, that,” Nikolaj grinned. “Of all the weddings I have been, yours is the one I remember the most. I had to make a garden of flowers for mine, yet you had a whole forest! How wonderful it all was, like a wedding in a romance,” he teased him. 

Grisha scoffed. “What romance? We couldn’t get married in Vasya’s Ancestral Shrine, I had none, and we could not use the village’s Shrine since our wedding was secret. Where else could we get married but in the forest?”

He smiled. They had married in a glade surrounded by tall trees, as if the forest itself wanted to protect them from prying eyes. The sky was as blue as Vasya’s eyes, the green grass as vibrant as Grisha’s eyes, and the fallen leaves created jewel-like patterns of yellow, red, and gold on the ground. The two of them, wearing crowns of leaves and flowers that even he had envied and wished he had, had looked so lovely and full of love. Even weddings in romances were not as enchanting. 

Grisha’s expression softened. “Vasya had looked even prettier than usual that day, hadn’t he? My One and Only,” he sighed. 

Nikolaj did not tell him that he looked and sounded like one the men wishing for a Grand Love Scene that moment. “Yes,” he agreed and Grisha gave him a jealous look. He smiled. “You both looked beautiful that day,” he said, and Grisha’s look turned suspicious. Oh, he was so amusing! “Mark and I were so happy to see you finally get married,” he said, and Grisha’s expression became soft and pleased. Honestly, he had to tell Mark how funny it was teasing Grisha. “Who found that spot, I wonder?”

“I did,” Grisha smiled at him. “I wanted us to get married near birches at first, but then I thought that Vasya was like a proud and slender birch tree, so that would not do.”

Either Grisha was making fun of everyone by saying he hated romances, or he was oblivious to how he sounded. He nodded, trying not to grin.

“Ah,” Grisha sighed forlornly, “Even before I knew what love was, Love took form in Vasya, yet, what have I done to him? We really must talk about so many things when he is here.”

Nikolaj stayed silent for a moment, too stunned for words. “Grisha, if you say that you hate romances only because you want to hide that you read them secretly at night, do not worry. I too read them. At first, I read them secretly, but then… I got so annoyed with all the romances that had witches that I had to complain to my friends. Just ask Mark!”

Grisha stared at him with an almost affronted expression. “Sire, why would I read romances when there are so many books that are much more interesting and educational too? The beauty of nature and the mystery of human language are much more fascinating than stories about love.” He huffed. “Romances.”

“Yet, you talk of Vasya as if he were a hero in a romance.”

“I talk of Vasya as if he were my One and Only, as he is. He is not a romance hero. He is my Vasya!”

Nikolaj shook his head. Oblivious; he had to be completely, totally, and utterly oblivious. Or, perhaps that was yet another manifestation of their weirdness. Because their whole lives were so romance-like, they could no longer see how everyone else lived! Even his darling and he were not that romance-like. 

Well, perhaps his darling was; he knew he wasn’t. Not when he put imperial dignity above love. Nikolaj sighed a little. “Ah, I wish I could call my love with the same passion as you do.”

“Sire,” Grisha told him with a patient smile, “from what I heard, you need no words to show your passion.”

“If I did love my darling as you love your Vasya, it would not have taken me three days almost to authorize your plan,” he said quietly. 

“And do you know why you did that?”

He nodded. “Yes, but I do not know how to change it.”

“As Vasya would say, Love will find a way. Don’t you know that it is pure and marvellous? Love is the force that rules the universe, love is what makes the nightingales sing at night, and the flowers bloom in the morning. Its unseen power moves the cosmos. Love will help.” He smiled and sighed at the same time. “Vasya is so clever with these things. He would say it better.”

Nikolaj smiled. Oblivious; he had to be oblivious! Or weird! So very weird! 

&*&*

Sila frowned. What was happening? The previous day, the Chancellor’s own wife had appeared at the Barracks, looking precious and out of place in her silks, but now it seemed that the whole palace had been there. Or rather, all the Ladies. 

He watched as one after the other, the Ladies went back into their carriages, all looking strangely excited as if they were about to do something naughty. Or something even naughtier; he had never seen them so excited in all the dances and evening entertainments he took part at the Palace.

“Do you have any idea what they were doing here?” He asked Izot when they finally left in order to be back at Ivanhof by lunch time, and they too went into the Mess Hall. 

“Yes, they wanted to talk to our wives.”

“Is that wise?” Leonid laughed. 

“I don’t know.”

They sat down and, like the previous days, Sila noticed that the first course of the married Guards was different than theirs, and he was certain that the rest of their food would be different too. “I wonder how they managed to persuade the Cooks to let you eat what they cook for you,” he said.

Roman shrugged. “Who knows?”

“But who cooks for you, Roman?” Peter the Tall asked with a smile. “Stepan is at his workshop.”

Yuri grinned. “Stepan, you have a kitchen at your workshop?”

“Or do you leave your work so you can cook secretly for your husband?” Leonid asked him. 

Roman glared at them as Stepan blushed like a young bride. Sila nudged Bram before he could also say something teasing. Stepan was embarrassed enough already, even though he really couldn’t understand how the young man still got red like that. He was just so cute! 

“Mama cooks for us,” Stepan finally whispered.

“You have Mama’s food?” Peter the Tall asked him with envy. 

Stepan nodded. 

“I wonder,” Sila told them, “are your wives happy eating separately from us?”

“Yes, after all the fuss they made about making decisions about the houses,” Asei nodded. “Are they?”

Gleb nodded. “They understand that this is work for us, so they don’t mind.”

Vanya grinned. “Sana says, it is a wife’s duty to prepare her warrior’s husband lunch.” He preened a little. 

“Do you think the Ladies came to learn how to cook for their warrior husbands?” Kolya grinned. “They all serve in the military,” he snorted. “Kind of.”

Filon and Artyom nodded. “They serve, but have no clue,” Filon said kindly. 

“It’s kind of cute,” Artyom smiled. 

“Do you think the Chancellor knows the difference between Sergeant and Lieutenant?” Simon asked them, grinning.

“No,” they both grinned. 

“Brothers,” Filon suddenly said, standing up, “Maybe we should write a story educating people about the military and its ranks.”

“A story with the Majors?” Peter the Short asked excitedly.

“Perhaps?”

“What it would be like?”

“It could be a story from the start of their career, when they learn the ranks?” Flor asked excitedly.

Sila frowned. But where would they have the romance in that?

“Maybe, they prepare for a test, show drawings of the different insignia associated with the different ranks to each other, and each time one gets the rank right, the other rewards him with a kiss?”

“What is this? A story for Young Ladies?”

“It has to be a story for everyone, so why not?” 

Leonid gasped as he stood up. “Or!”

“Yes, Brother?” they asked as he stood there, with a look of shock.

“It’s a story about a young soldier who conducts a series of tests to see which ranked officers fuck best.”

“Eh?” Roman said, his eyes wide with surprise. 

“We can’t write a story about Maxim,” Sila protested.

“Why not?”

“He’s our Brother.”

“And the Captain is our superior, but we still write about him,” Peter the Short said.

“Yes,” Sila replied, “but we don’t really write about him and his husband, do we? Even in the story with the Trip. It is inspired by them, but we all know that they never, ever found a cave to please themselves while on a trip.”

“Yes, they just lie next to each other, whispering, until they fall asleep holding hands,” Bram said, nodding. 

Cornei smiled. “Yes, they did the same in the trip I was.”

Sila’s smile widened. He’d seen them do that too! 

“You know they are probably evaluating you when they whisper to each other, don’t you?” Roman told them seriously. 

“Probably,” Sila agreed, “but my point is, that the Majors in the stories don’t do what the Majors do in reality. Maxim, though…”

“Ah, Maxim,” they all grinned. 

“So, do we agree? Should we write a story for Young Ladies? Brothers, imagine when you meet your fiancée for the first time, and she knows your rank because she read your story!” Eynar told them excitedly.

“I think someone is longing to get married soon,” Yuri grinned.

“What’s wrong with that?” Eynar laughed. “I want to get married and then get my wife here so she can learn how to cook for me with all the Quhjani wives.”

“Really, when will we learn how to cook like Quhjani so we can please our future wives?”

“Forget about the future wives or husbands,” Sila grinned. “I want to learn how so I can please myself!”

Peter the Tall nodded. “Soon, it will be time to make sausages! I want to learn how to make Jedlowan sausages. The spicy ones, with the garlic!”

“And flatbreads.”

“And pickles. Don’t forget the pickles.”

“Mama brought tomato pickles for us,” Stepan smiled. 

They all sighed. Really, Mama-made pickles! They too had to learn how to make them!

&*&*

“This is the second day in a row that the Ladies don’t have tea with us,” Adam said. “I thought they liked the idea of a joint court.”

Mark shrugged, but noticed that Filon and Artyom shared a look. “Do you have an idea?”

Filon nodded. “It’s just an idea, though.”

“Yesterday,” Artyom said, “Her Grace went to see the Quhjani wives.”

“And this morning, all the Ladies went to see them as well.”

Mark frowned. “Why?”

“They wanted to talk to them, Sir.”

Artyom nodded. “Gleb told us that yesterday they talked of ‘women things’, that no man is allowed to hear.”

Mark froze. Quhjani women things? It had to be about the short marriages. He used to joke about them but now that Jedlowa had come to them, so had the idea of the short marriages!

“What is the matter?” Pavel asked him. 

“Gentlemen, Quhjani women are frightening! I saw them when I was at Jedlowa! Let me tell you about them!”

&*&*

“His Majesty should have made us study property law,” Nathalia complained the moment they were all served tea and cakes.

“Yes, not abolitionist texts,” Agafia nodded. 

“So, are we all in agreement?” Ekaterina asked them.

“Yes,” her cousin, Princess Xenia, said. “We will draft a bill for the General Assembly and demand the right to separate from unworthy husbands and have property in our names.”

“Yes, a morning gift is good, but having a right to our father’s inheritance would be better,” Princess Olga told them.

“Tomorrow, we start working!”

“And fighting for our rights, Sisters!”

“Hurrah!”

&*&*

“Ekaterina?” Mark asked her as soon as they sat down for dinner.

“Yes, Mark?”

“You and the Ladies will be joining us for tea tomorrow, won’t you?”

Ekaterina glanced at Mavra. 

“I suppose we could,” Mavra said. 

“Especially if we have done a lot of work during the morning,” Agafia nodded. 

“What work?”

“We have decided that change must start from home,” Ekaterina told him brightly. “Mark, you and the men will figure out the slavery problem, and we will figure out the property problem.”

“What property problem?”

“That women don’t have any,” Princess Olga shouted.

“Yes,” Ekaterina said fiercely. “Why do Quhjani women own property while we have nothing but our morning gifts and whatever our husbands deign to leave us in their will?”

“If they do,” Nathalia said grimly. 

“And then we have to rely on our children for support,” Princess Xenia said. 

“Yes, this is a grave injustice, Mark.”

Mark nodded. Even though he had never thought of it, if Ekaterina said so, then it was. “As long as there are no short marriages,” he muttered. He had quite liked knowing he was the first to make love to his wife, even if he had not arrived chaste to their marriage bed. Although….

“Gentlemen, I got it,” he shouted, making everyone in the banquet hall stop and stare at him. 

“What is it?” Pavel asked. 

“We really need to solve the slavery problem,” he said, kissing Ekaterina on the forehead before standing up. “Ladies, Gentlemen, as Bosilik, we cannot have relationships with free people, but we can marry them. If we have short marriages between three or four people….”

“Or more,” someone shouted from the end of the hall.

Mark nodded, excited. “Then, we can have lovers as we’ve always had, and not break our Bosilik traditions.”

“Chancellor, you and the Ministers really intend to free our slaves?” Someone else shouted. 

“Yes, and raise more taxes,” Dima told them seriously as he stood up. “It’s either that, or making us pay more.”

“And we need more men for the army,” Vassily added. 

“What if we made His Majesty stop fighting? Then we will need no more taxes, nor men.”

Everyone started laughing. 

“Even if we did manage that,” Mark said when they calmed down, “Isn’t slavery a moral wrong too? His poor, sweet Majesty now lying injured in his bed, wanted nothing but to abolish this evil.” He wondered what would happen if he continued, and decided that it was worth taking this risk. “Also, I spoke to Cousin Vasya and he too was convinced that we must have a strong army of free men if we want to be as combat-ready as our Western neighbours. Sorain is several times smaller than we are, yet its army is ten times bigger than ours. Ten times, Gentlemen!”

They stared at him, clearly thinking about his words. 

Mavra stood up. “We want a bigger army!” She shouted, looking fierce.

All the Stanjinskis in the Hall started hitting the tables with their fists. “We want a bigger army,” they repeated after her.

He managed not to smile with difficulty. The Stanjinskis were still warriors first, and courtiers secondly, obeying what their Leader told them.

Ivan, Ekaterina’s brother stood up next. “Where is our pride, Larionovs? Do we also not want what is best for our Empire? We want a bigger army,” he said, making all the members of his family shout their approval, and start throwing their glasses to the floor. 

Mark stayed quiet as more and more Heads or Future Heads of their most noble families clamoured for a bigger army. Really, they were all still warriors. Economic necessities, moral qualms, and philosophical problems meant little to them; tell them that their army was lacking compared to that of other kingdoms and they became enraged and ready to do anything to fix this problem, even if it meant freeing their slaves. 

Nikolaj would find this so amusing! He would write this to him in detail!

When he sat down, Ekaterina kissed him briefly on the lips.

“You know that women don’t hug and kiss their husbands in public at Quhjan, right?”

“That’s there, not here!”

She truly was a lawyer’s wife! He kissed her back.

&*&*

Evgeni stared at Grigori, and he stared back at him. “Romances should be banned,” he muttered. 

“Sir? How can you say that? Love is so pure and wonderful,” Evgeni sighed.

“It is, but you don’t understand. Love is not romance; it is a force of nature.” Why wasn’t Vasya there? He could explain it better! “It is a concept,” he finally said, giving up. “It is the unseen force that causes people to gravitate to each other, the way that planets cause their satellites to gravitate around them because of their greater mass."

Evgeni continued to stare. 

“Ask your Captain. He will explain.” Because he really couldn’t. Mathematics were not a language he understood much, although he could understand their practical applications when Vasya explained them to him. He did not need equations to shoot cannons and smash things, but when Vasya wrote them down for him, oh how he loved seeing how clever Vasya was! 

“But you did say all the things that Carel said you said?”

He nodded. It had been so nice to talk about their wedding with someone who had been there! It was just him reminiscing with Nikolaj, Cousin Mark’s best friend. Why had the wolf cub turned it into a romance? It had been a nice wedding, all things considered, he smiled again. And Vasya had been so very beautiful that day, his tall, proud birch tree whose slender beauty would put the real trees to shame if they saw him. He always was beautiful but on that day? Ah!

“Sir? Can you teach me how to make a wooden ring? Not like the one you made for the Captain, but…” Evgeni smiled at him. “Thomas’ ring is precious to me, and I would like to give him something just as precious, something I made myself.”

His smile widened. “Why didn’t you say so from the start?”

Evgeni blushed. “I should have, shouldn’t I? I just… you would expect me to know how to carve wood, but all I know is how to chop logs. I am better with animals. If you need to know anything about any farm animal, ask me, Sir! I will know it!”

Grigori was tempted to ruffle his hair. Evgeni was so young! “Fine, tomorrow morning, I will teach you how. Now, go back to your husband, little wolf. He might get jealous.”

Evgeni frowned for a second before saluting him with a grin and hurrying back to the dance hall, where they were having yet another ball, this one for no reason. 

He stared at the night sky. Vasya probably saw the same stars as he did at that moment. Did he share the same longing he did? To be in their garden, wrapped in each other’s arms and looking up, the stars performing a dance they couldn’t see but that could fill them with peace. Ah, how great the world was and how wonderful, yet how far. 

How much better the world in his arms. 

How he longed for Vasya! 

&*&*

Elik glanced at his brothers and they nodded. “Captain?” he asked as Vasya finished washing the dishes, while Andrik wiped them and Jan put them back in their place. 

“If it’s Elik after dinner, shouldn’t it be Vasya too?” he asked them, sounding a little hurt and probably faking it. 

“Vasya?” Maxim asked a little timidly. 

“Yes, Maxim?”

“Can we have a story?”

“Yes,” they said as Vadim poured linden tea in cups for all of them.

“A romance,” Maxim clarified. 

“With lots of love. And a happy ending.”

“And maybe adventures?”

“And songs?”

“What kind of a story do you want?” Vasya laughed as he walked out to the garden and they followed him, grabbing blankets and their cups. 

“A story that has everything,” Andrik grinned as he sat next to Elik. 

“That’s a tall order,” Vasya smiled. “Hm. You want a story with songs and adventure?”

“And romance!”

“Of course, it has to have romance,” he said, amused. “Well, how about this one? It starts when the son of Queen Olga the Wise was crowned king. Long live the Sovereign,” he started singing. “May he live long.” 

Elik listened as he sang a slow hymn that sounded like it had been created in the reign of Olga the Wise. It reminded him of some the Quhjani songs praising Elders and warriors for their achievements. He liked it. 

This was going to be such a good story! He could feel it!


	80. Chapter 80

8th 

Nikolaj looked at his cup of coffee. Should he also write a list of all the things he wanted to talk to Elik? He snorted. It would be a very short list. 

He stood up and everyone in the room stood up with him. “Gentlemen, should we go see some drills? After all, once Our Friend’s One and Only is here, we will resume our march against the Capital of Oerestand. The men can’t forget that they are in an army!” 

Everyone nodded, grinning.

“I hope you will excuse me today,” Grisha told him. “I have promised to help Evgeni with a little project.”

Evgeni blushed as his husband looked at him curiously. 

“May We know what?”

Grisha gestured towards Evgeni. The young man stood up. “I would like to learn how to make a ring out of wood, Your Majesty. Like the one the Colonel made for his husband.” Even though his cheeks were still red, his voice was clear and steady when he replied.

Nikolaj smiled. He remembered that ring! “That is a great idea,” he said. “You may be excused from watching the drills with Us,” he told Grisha. 

“You had made the Colonel’s ring?” Major Kamenski asked with surprise and awe. “May I also join you in your lesson?”

“You may,” Nikolaj gave him permission. He suddenly felt like teasing Grisha a little more. Surely, he would understand at some point that he and Vasya’s behaviour belonged in a romance if he saw how people reacted. “Sergei, can you please ask the men to gather at the square? As many as they can.” The square could not hold them all, but whoever met there, would get the message to their comrades. 

Sergei nodded. He was back a few minutes later. “They have started gathering, Sire.”

“Good.” Within moments, he was at the entrance of the house, his Generals and other staff members behind him, and his men in front of him, waiting with curiosity. “Men,” he called out to them, “We just had a wonderful idea. Grisha, why don’t you teach us all how to make rings out of wood?”

Grisha frowned. “If you so wish, Sire.”

Trying very hard not to laugh, Nikolaj continued. If Grisha looked apprehensive, the soldiers looked confused. “Grisha, why don’t you tell the men about the ring you made for your husband so they can understand why such a ring would be the perfect gift to one’s One and Only?”

At that point, the men stood even more in attention! 

“It’s just a ring,” Grisha said simply, “made of woods from the area where we met.”

A few sighed at that. 

Grisha huffed. 

“Please, continue with your explanation, Grisha.”

“It really is just a ring,” Grisha protested. His expression softened. “It has oak on the outside, applewood in the middle, and a braid of birch wood in the centre. It is special for us, but anyone could come up with the idea of it: the braid stands for our joined lives, the apple wood for the love that joined them, and the oak for the strength that is needed to protect our love and help it grow.” 

Evgeni sighed the loudest of the men around them. 

Grisha smiled softly, ignoring them all. “I did think about making a metal one for Vasya once the first one had to be changed, but Vasya said that he prefers a wood one. He said that the constant care and attention that it needs, makes him mindful of how careful one must be with one’s relationship. A metal one is easy to forget and take for granted, but something fragile like wood, is as fragile as love.” 

“I thought love is that great power that moves the universe,” Nikolaj grinned over the murmurs and the sighs. “How can it be fragile?”

“Love in the abstract sense is powerful, but love between two people is fragile and needs constant care.” 

“Like flowers that need care and the removal of weeds from the garden,” Evgeni said. 

“Exactly,” Grisha smiled happily and proudly at Evgeni.

“So, who wants to make rings with Grisha?”

“I can only show you how to make a simple one. The one I made for Vasya took me weeks to make.”

“Weeks?” Evgeni gasped.

“Yes.”

Nikolaj frowned. Vasya had been in such a state that summer, worrying that Grisha did not want him, while that wretched creature worked on a ring? He’d been sending two or three letters a day to Mark, until Mark realized that he had to go visit his cousin instead of dealing with his anxiety over letters. And of course, Nikolaj had followed Mark to Vasya’s summer estate to find out what was happening with his Vasya and his chosen. “Wait, you mean you kept turning down his marriage proposal for weeks because you were making his ring?” 

“You kept turning down the proposals of a nobleman?” someone shouted, shocked, making them all start murmuring again. 

“No, I kept turning him down because it was not wise for him to marry me, and I was right; it was not wise, but…” Grisha gave them all a shy smile, “I loved him so much that I thought… I wanted to give him a reminder of our love, so that when he married the one his father had chosen for him, he would remember that love is a gift, and maybe he could love her a little too, but…. You don’t know how persistent Vasya is. He kept proposing and proposing and not listening to common sense until he made me accept.”

Even Nikolaj sighed at that. He suddenly did not have the heart to tease Grisha or make him acknowledge that what he had done would not have been out of place in a romance novel. 

“So, even though I had been making it for a different reason, it became our wedding ring instead,” Grisha smiled. 

Nikolaj sighed. He’d just missed his chance to ask Grisha how Vasya had managed to make him accept his proposal. Vasya had never told them that, too happy that it had been accepted to tell them details. 

“Making that is complicated, but I can show you how to make a really simple one,” Grisha said, ignoring the sighs and the looks that everyone gave him. He started walking down, as he explained about the wood they could use, Evgeni and Carel following him. 

General Davin sighed behind him. 

“They don’t live in the same world as we do,” General Loviljin smiled. 

General Mrishsnan chuckled. “No.”

“Someone will have to tell it to them,” Major Kamenski told them. 

“That won’t be me,” Count Bitoulin laughed. “I’m not telling the Beast nor the Original Beast, his husband, that they really are romance heroes.”

They all laughed, and shook their heads. 

“Also, Sire? Your men are obsessed with love stories. Is that a good thing?”

“Everyone loves a good love story,” Nikolaj grinned. 

“Maybe… if we managed to harness all this power for good?” Count Njedzic asked them.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, right now they are famous, admired, and they are clearly role models for our men. What if we … I am not sure, but what if we made them write a manual of how to train soldiers?”

“Would they do it?”

“We can ask.”

Major Kamenski nodded. “It is a good idea, but for now I think I would like to learn more about how to take care of relationships, because even when you have a good one, there’s always room for improvement. With your permission, Gentlemen.”

“Indeed,” the Ambassador grinned. “Instead of making them write a manual on training soldiers, make them write one on relationship maintenance. With a section on recipes to help love grow! With your permission.”

Nikolaj smiled. “Wait, We will join you.” Who knew, perhaps this would help him deal with the problems his relationship had. Ah, his darling!

&*&*

“Any other business?” Adam asked when they had finished with the few items on the agenda that were all the same: progress updates of the work of the various committees in which their Regent was involved. 

“Yes,” Vassily said. “I have been thinking about the stories that the Imperial Guards are trying to write.”

“What about them?” Pavel asked. 

“Well, since they don’t really do much right now, with His Majesty away…”

Mark grinned. “That is unfair. They are posing naked in the garden every morning, dance and sing for the Court every evening, and they are still tracking down the assassins sent by Francis after their leader at the Capital killed himself.” 

“Still, they probably do more when His Majesty is around, no?”

“Yes,” he admitted. 

“Well, what if we have them write stories for the benefit of the army and the Empire?”

“Excuse me?”

Vassily chuckled. “For example, the Manual of Military Etiquette is perhaps one of the most boring books in the Empire, second only to the Book of Conduct. What if they produced a version suitable for young soldiers whose blood is boiling?”

“Eh?” Mark was not the only one whose mouth had fallen open at the suggestion. 

Vassily clicked his fingers and his undersecretary gave a slim book to his secretary, who gave it to him. “For example,” he said as he flipped through the pages, “this is the regulation against displays of affection in uniform: When in full dress uniform, a member of the Imperial Army cannot display affection in public. Disobeying the rule will result in disciplinary action, the gravity of which is to the discretion of the superior officer.”

“Eh?”

“It is unclear what is a display of affection. It is also unclear how it is punished. Finally, it is on page 56 of the Manual. Usually everyone has fallen asleep by page two. What if, though, we have a story in which two members of the army break the rule in different ways, and then the superior officer decides how to punish them? For example, if caught holding hands, a monetary fine. If caught kissing, three days of confinement. If caught doing more than that, a week of confinement, and so on.”

“I don’t think it is right to educate young people by telling them how they will be punished,” Adam said. 

“Excuse me? Punishment always follows crime,” Pavel huffed. 

“And sometimes punishment can be administered just for fun,” Mark smirked, making everyone laugh.

“Do not misunderstand me, I do like the idea of a romance explaining the rules of proper conduct,” Adam said. “I just want it to focus on positive experiences.” He grinned. “It is a secret but… I think that Agafia is expecting!” Adam laughed as they all congratulated him. “I have started reading Roland’s treatise about how to bring up children according to nature and he writes that as animals do not punish their children, so should humans, for what are humans but the cleverest of all animals?”

“Interesting,” Vassily said. “Does he write how you deal with a two-year-old that won’t stop crying no matter what you do?”

“I have not read anything about that in the first fifty pages I have read, sorry.”

“What if we gave the Guards this mission and see what they come up with? Surely they will know what will work best for their fellow comrades.”

“An excellent idea, Pavel. Do you want to tell it to Simeon? Should we trust that Mark will tell it to Filon and Artyom, or will Flor do it after you tell him, Adam?” Vassily asked them. 

“What if we gave them the command as an official mission? Just so they don’t have the option of refusing. I remember the Manual of Military Etiquette. It was great for making me sleep,” Mark smirked. 

“Wonderful. I will have my office draft an order and submit it for your approval.”

“Wonderful. Should we go paint the Guards now?”

“But, of course!”

&*&*

Nikolaj groaned. Honestly, when would they have lunch in peace again? He nodded at the soldier at the entrance of the room. 

“Sire, a messenger from Storjord requests an audience.”

“Yes, let him in.” What now?

The man came in, bowed, and handed a letter to Mir, who brought it to him. 

“How is His Majesty?” 

“He is well, Your Majesty, and hopes the same for you. I have great news, Sire.”

He nodded, unfolding the letter. 

_Deep Port, 27th of Fire Month,_

_Dear Brother Nikolaj,_

_How are?_

_We have managed to take the island of Kogere on the 15th of this month! Do have a Ball in Our Honour!_

_The man bearing this message took part in the blockade of the island and its capture, and he will give you details._

_We have decided that Our Glory will be greater if We assist you further in your endeavor. Dear Brother, I am sending you fifty of my ships to escort your army by sea as you advance by land.  
Send my regards to your Most Gracious Consort. Ah, Nikolaj, you are a lucky man to have such a lovely young husband! I swear, hopping bunnies are less cute and lively than him. I have decided to follow your example and get married again and… I too would like a lovely young man who is able to dance the night away, drink as much as I do, and can laugh with life (and one’s guests!). _

_Brother, can you ask your Most Gracious Consort to ask if any of the following men would be willing to leave your service and join me in matrimony? They are Afanasy, Peter, Fyodor, Daniel, Luca, and Valery. I admit that I considered Maxim too, but that young man will lead me to an early grave with his demands! He is insatiable and imaginative and oh, so very flexible and …_

_Oh, Brother! Do ask your Most Gracious Consort if Maxim wants to marry me! If he does not, then, ask about the others!_

_Brother, Maxim will lead me to an early grave, but a way to go that will be!_

_I am eagerly awaiting your reply!_

_Your most loyal brother,_

_Hans Ulrich_

_p.s. Do not object that your Guards are beneath my station. I married for my country once, and I was blessed with a wife most obedient and sweet. Now, I want to marry for myself, instead of risking marrying an unpleasant wife just for the sake of an alliance. My nephew Charles is showing such great promise in state affairs that I feel happy to leave Storjord to him. It is time I enjoyed life even more than I have done so far._

_Brother, do send me one of your graceful Consort’s charming Guards. I promise I will be good to him and hold him in high honour_

_p.p.s. I know there are several eligible and fun-loving young men at Storjord who would love to be my common-law husbands, but they also come with friends and cliques and factions, and they would try to be of benefit to their friends, even against the benefits of the state. One of your Guards would be loyal just to me and would not do anything that would harm his new country! You see how my proposal makes sense?_

Nikolaj shook his head, grinning. He would not even begin thinking about Hans Ulrich’s proposal until his darling were there, but at least he could still honour him with a grand ball! “Great news, indeed. Gentlemen, Our Brother Hans Ulrich has taken Kogere Island and is sending fifty ships to our aid!”

Everyone stood up and started cheering. “Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!”

“We shall have a Ball in his honour tonight. Please, arrange it! Good Sir, do tell us of the Battle of Kogere, and what happened there. We are waiting to cheer Our good and loyal brother!”

&*&*

Irina shivered and squeezed Katya’s hand. “That’s them,” she whispered. 

Katya nodded just as excitedly.

“Young Ladies, Young Gentlemen, allow me to inform His Majesty of your presence,” Major Ustankov told them.

“Of course, Sir.”

“Please, do.”

“Thank you, Major,” all their friends said together. 

Major Ustankov saluted them with a smile, and rode ahead to the town’s entrance, where her brother and his Guards were waiting, their Teacher next to him.

“He is handsome,” she whispered.

“He is married,” Katya reminded her.

“I know. How much nicer would it be if we were to see him reunite with his husband.”

Katya nodded.

“Katya, why don’t we? We’ve come this far, we might as well go all the way to the Camp with my brother.”

“But, will he like that?”

Irina shrugged. “Does it matter? Oh, Katya, remember how they kissed before Major Grigori left for Ustvela?”

Katya shivered, while several of their friends sighed. 

“Can you imagine how they will kiss when they are reunited?”

Major Trekorov looked at them. “You promised you would only come here, and we promised to take you back home as soon as you had finished with your meeting.”

“But Father, we will learn so much more if we are to travel with His Majesty to the camp,” Ivan told him. 

“Your Mother will be so worried,” he said, sighing.

“Why, when she knows that you are looking after me and my friends?”

Major Trekorov shook his head.

“Please?”

Major Trekorov rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I will try to persuade Major Ustankov to let you travel to His Majesty’s camp only if you tell me the truth. How many of you want to go there just to see the Majors kiss? Be honest, as true Quhjani are.”

Irina looked at Katya, and Katya looked at her. A moment later, they raised their hands. Irina glanced back and saw that they were not the only ones. Almost all her female friends and most of her male friends had also raised their hand. 

He chuckled. “Ah, young people. And how many of you really have questions for the Major?”

Irina was happy to see that all of their friends raised their hands. 

“Really? What do you want to ask him?”

“Why can’t we have Women Elders?”

“Should I share the family heirlooms with my sister?”

“Are there societies where women are the Elders?”

“I have this math problem I can’t solve.”

“Why is Ustvelan so similar to Quhjani yet so different?”

“Are there…”

“Fine, fine, I get it. You have questions. I will talk to Major Ustankov on your behalf.”

“Thank you!”

Major Ustankov waved at them, and Major Trekorov nodded. “We may approach. Remember, this is Elder Alexandrov, His Majesty. You must be on your best behaviour now.”

“Yes, Sir,” they all replied. 

They approached in a calm manner, although Irina could hardly wait to embrace her brother. He had made her so worried.

“Oh, Irina,” Katya whispered at her, “Even in a Guard’s uniform, your brother looks so regal.”

She looked at him again. It was her brother, but yes, she could see what Katya meant. He looked at peace, on his own. He looked like he had found his destiny, finally, and his place in the world. Even when he lived with them, before leaving for Bosilke almost three years ago, her brother had never looked like that. “Ah,” she smiled. “How right you are.”

“Elder Alexandrov, Your Majesty, the Youth of Jedlowa.” 

Her brother smiled at them. “It brings me such pleasure to see you all, but I am also surprised. What brings you here?”

Irina and all her friends – all fifty of them – dismounted and bowed. 

“Ladies curtsy,” he told them.

“We have decided that we would rather bow, if we have to,” Irina replied. 

“Ah, I see.” No, he didn’t, but Irina was his sister. He would support her. “You may bow, if you so wish.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Irina felt everyone look at her. “As your sister, I wanted to see that you are well, dear Brother.”

Eli smiled even more softly at her. “Irina,” he whispered. “I am fine.”

“I am so glad, Brother of mine. We also come here for another reason.” She looked at Major Vasily. “We have questions for Our Teacher.”

“Excuse me?” her brother frowned. 

“Major Vasily,” Katya said, “My friend showed me your letters to her, but I have questions. Would you mind answering them?”

“The letters that you wanted to use in your story?” he asked her quietly, looking embarrassed and shocked. 

Both Irina and Katya nodded. “Yes,” Irina said. 

“Would you mind answering our questions?” Katya asked very politely.

Major Vasily continued to stare at them curiously. “You have traveled for two days just to ask questions of me?”

“Yes, Sir,” they all replied. “Please?” they added. 

Major Vasily studied them for a few moments. “I do not know of how much help I can be, and how many of your questions I can answer, but, Sire, if you would allow it, I would be glad to answer them. It wouldn’t be right to do otherwise,” he finally said, still looking awkward.

Her brother grinned. “As you wish.”

&*&*

Grigori watched the dancers for a few minutes until he felt it was safe for him to move towards the garden, where he hoped he would be alone. 

Everyone had been so strange that morning. Everyone had been strange for weeks but that morning they had been ridiculous. Why did they make such a fuss over the ring he’d made for Vasya? He’d been practical in his use of local woods, and considerate in choosing how they would be arranged. What did they expect? That he’d just give any ring to the man he’d loved? Of course, he would give him something meaningful. Why did they make such a fuss? 

He stepped out and sat on one of the benches. There were still roses blooming, their scent heavy in the fresh night air, and the music was soft and seductive. Ah, if Vasya were there, he’d dance with him. 

What might have happened to his roses? Dorofea Anishina would tell him everything about their progress, but he wished he had had Vasya’s opinion. If Vasya only perfected a recipe only after he’d approved it, so did he want Vasya’s approval before spending more time on new roses. He sighed. 

“You too miss your husband?” His Majesty asked him from the door. 

Grisha made to stand but he gestured for him to stay seated. With a few powerful strides, His Majesty came and sat beside him. “I miss mine,” he said quietly.

Grigori nodded. 

“Grisha? How would you fix something you’ve done wrong in relation to your husband? And don’t tell me, love will find a way,” he huffed. “Love is great, but I don’t think it’s enough in this case.”

“Sire, love will find a way is the most general answer I can give you. I don’t know the specifics, so as to give you a specific answer.”

“Are you being …. Of course, you know the specifics.”

Grigori stared at him. It was late, he was tired, he missed Vasya. He didn’t want to work with the few clues His Majesty was giving him. He wanted the whole story, or he would not do anything.

“I realized why I did what I did. I love myself more than I love my darling, and… what if… how do I fix this? I do love him, Grisha. I can’t live without him. But I still love him less than my crown.”

Grigori smiled. “I think you are already fixing it. if you really loved your crown more, you would be on your way to the Capital of Oerestand already. That you are here, means that you are already changing.”

His Majesty looked at him with hope. “You think so?”

He nodded. “Sire?”

“Yes?” 

“Be honest with him when you discuss this. He deserves that much, and so does your relationship.”

“How easy for you to say that,” he said bitterly. “You and Vasya share everything.”

If only. He smiled, feeling miserable. “Sire, I never told Vasya how grateful I am that he married me. I have told him I love him countless times, yet I never said that I was happy that he chose me and decided to have our lives become one.”

“He knows,” he snorted. 

“No, Sire. He thought he knew. That is not the same as being certain of it. He needed my words, and it is time I gave them to him.” He grinned. “That’s the first item on my list of things to talk about.”

“You don’t just talk about everything, do you? You think about everything,” he grinned.

Vasya had been such a bad influence on this poor peasant boy, Grigori thought and laughed. When he’d taught him how to write and read, he’d also taught him how to think for matters that should not be important to him. But thinking was not supposed to be what army officers did. He would rather not admit to that, even when he knew that His Majesty knew that he did it. “Mostly, we cook, Sire, and we take care of our garden. We don’t think much.”

His Majesty snorted. “If you say so.”

“I do, Sire. In fact, most time we think of potatoes.”

“Potatoes?” He sneered.

“Yes, they are wonderful. You put them in the ground, and in a few weeks, you have food. Of course, I wouldn’t be surprised if Vasya was also trying to make a drink out of them,” he grinned. “I was so happily surprised to see how many potato dishes they have here.” He took out his notebook. “I wrote them down and rated them…”

His Majesty stood up. “I think someone is calling for me. I will see you in the morning, Grisha. Have a nice evening!”

He stood up and bowed slightly. Vasya was so right; talking about potatoes was the quickest way to make someone leave him alone! He should have tried that from the start! 

&*&*

Elik smiled as Mirko, a boy who was as young as Katya, asked Vasya a question about the Bosilik army.

Even during dinner time, his sister’s friends had asked Vasya question after question, some so stupid that it was clear that what they wanted was not an answer, but rather to see Vasya. And Vasya had been so patient with them all; in his place, he’d feel annoyed after a while, or even harassed, a little like he’d felt when he had returned from Jedlowa as Nikolaj’s fiancé and almost everyone stared at him like a weird animal. 

Maxim sighed next to him. “They are still asking questions.”

“Yes.”

“So, we will not get a story tonight,” he said, sounding younger than he was. 

“Perhaps if you ask him, we will get one,” Valery told him with a pleading expression. 

“Yes, please?” Jan asked as well.

With a smile, Elik hit his glass with his spoon, making everyone stop talking. “It is late, and… Your Teacher owes us a story.” He didn’t have time to tell them that they ought to go to sleep when Irina looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. Katya did the same. Her friends started murmuring.

“A story?”

“Can we also hear it?”

“Please?”

Elik looked at Vasya. “You don’t have to tell them one,” he whispered. 

Vasya smiled. “Hm, let’s see, what story would be suitable for young people full of such curiosity and good qualities? How about, the story of Laurus’ education?”

Elik motioned his brothers to come in. They probably wouldn’t get a lot of romance with this one but….

Katya raised her hand. “Teacher, does this story have any romance?”

“Yes, because if love is something suitable for youth, then this story must also have love in it,” Ivan said and Sergei, who sat next to him, nodded. 

“The kind of love that is noble and pure and wonderful,” Marta added with a smile. 

“Yes, will it have any romance?” Maxim repeated Katya’s question as he sat down. 

Vasya smiled. “It will. You see, that was where Laurus met his best friend, a friend whom he loved as dearly as he loved himself.”

His sister, and all her friends started whispering excitedly. “A young man? Like Laurus?”

Vadim and Andrik came in each carrying a large tray with cups. “We always have tea with the stories. It’s lavender tonight, Sir.”

“How wonderful!”

Really, warm, relaxing tea, good company and a story. What more could he need? Like Vasya, he too should make a list of all the things he wanted to talk to his husband, but the story was more interesting. It would be a small list, anyway. 

The following night, he’d ask Vasya to tell them a story about how to deal with betraying husbands. And the night after that. And every night until they arrived at the camp. 

Vasya would find a good story to help him, he was certain of it. 

And Vasya had to help him find a good story for explaining how he was both here and at the Capital! How could he not have thought of that? Oh, well, it was too late for regrets. 

&*&*

9th 

Elik put his spoon down. He missed the informality of breakfasts at the safehouse, although breakfast at the inn was still more informal than breakfast at Ivanhof. “Will you be going back home now?” He asked Irina.

“No, dear Brother. With your permission, we would like to follow you until you arrive at His Majesty’s camp.”

“Irina,” he sighed.

“We still have questions of our Teacher, Elder Alexandrov, Your Majesty,” Katya told him.

He looked at the side of the room, where Vasya was having a discussion with his Guards. “Didn’t he answer your questions yesterday?”

“Yes, but we have more,” Irina said. “May we join you on your trip?”

“Only if your Teacher agrees to answer your questions,” he told them as he stood up, smiling. “I will ask him.”

He approached Vasya and the others. “Those young people are very persistent,” he grinned. “They want to ask more questions of you.”

“Of me?” Vasya frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t know. You are their ‘Teacher’,” he grinned. “What did you write in those letters, Vasya?”

Vasya looked embarrassed. “Only that it was unfair to call men ‘wives’ when she wanted to be called a ‘husband’.”

So many things suddenly made sense. “Vasya,” he smiled, hoping the happiness he felt showed, “You persuaded her to stop calling me that? Thank you!”

“I did nothing, Sire. Her Excellency herself decided.”

She wouldn’t have decided if Vasya hadn’t told her off! Oh, how grateful he was! “So, you are now telling all her friends not to call men ‘wives’? Please, keep on teaching them, then!”

Vasya smiled. “If that is what you wish. Sire, I also took the liberty of hiring a carriage for you.”

“Why?”

“Because we will be traveling slowly from now on. I thought that perhaps you might want to play cards for a few hours?”

“Why…” He gasped. Really, Vasya had to be a witch! How had he realized that Elik wanted to talk to him about what they would say about his assassination attempt? How had he known that he had no idea how they would do it while traveling with the Youth of Jedlowa who had to learn not to call him a ‘wife’ ever again?

“You are thinking I am a witch again, aren’t you?” Vasya sighed. “Sire,” he sighed even more deeply. 

“You… you… how did you know?”

“Your expression,” he said tiredly. “For the last time, I am no witch.”

“Hm. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be protesting that much. You must be a witch.” Elik smiled at him. “That’s fine, though. You are a good witch and my brother. I will not betray your secret, Brother Vasya.”

Vasya just stared at him, stunned. 

Yes, he really was a witch, or he wouldn’t be so surprised that Elik was so accepting of his nature! Poor Vasya; he must have faced so much prejudice on account of his being a witch, and he must have struggled so much hiding his true nature. Well, he could be as witchy as he wanted around Elik. Elik would never betray him!

“Oh, Sire,” Vasya sighed again, “There are no witches and I am not one!”

“If you are not one, then how do you know everything?”

“I don’t know everything,” Vasya huffed.

“But you knew I would need to play cards because….” He looked around and gestured for everyone to leave the room. Everyone scrambled out as quickly as possible and the last one closed the door to the dining room leaving them alone. “Because I will need to explain how I am both here and there.”

“Of course, because we need to discuss this before arriving at camp, but with the Youth of Jedlowa and the Hundred Riders, the only option we have is time in a carriage. I’m not a witch for preparing for the expected.”

“That makes sense.”

“Of course, it does,” Vasya said, looking like he was about to berate him for his stupidity.

Elik was grateful that he didn’t. He had been stupid, but he didn’t have to have it mentioned! “Oh, Vasya,” he sighed, “why did you let me call the Hundred Riders to escort me, when you knew this would happen?”

“Sire, I knew this would happen ever since you decided to join me and come with me at His Majesty’s camp. Do you think it would be possible there to introduce you as Lieutenant Ilin? He has friends there, who will know you are not him. And even if he hadn’t, there are men who fought at His Majesty’s previous campaign at Oerestand and will remember you from your visit.”

“If you knew it, why didn’t you discuss this with me earlier?”

“Because you were not ready for this discussion earlier. The first days, all you wanted was to punch His Majesty.”

“Oh. You must think I’m so stupid,” he sighed.

“No, I think that you have been very stressed and overcome by your emotions. If the Youth of Jedlowa had not joined us, we would have started discussing this yesterday.”

“If I tell them that you don’t want to answer them, they will leave.”

“Wouldn’t that be rude? I don’t understand why they want to talk to me, but it would be rude to deny them after such a long journey.”

“You are far too patient.”

“I am also on a leave,” he smiled. 

“Are you? You have been working all these days. No,” Elik smiled, “Your leave will start when we are at the camp, and you meet your husband.”

“Really, Sire?”

Vasya looked so grateful that Elik felt weird. He’d just stated the obvious! “Really.” He grinned. “I should let the Youth of Jedlowa know that they will join us. Does this mean that we will have yet another educational story tonight?”

“If that is what you wish.”

“I do. But I would like one with songs. Can it have songs too?”

10th 

“They want us to do what?” Leonid shouted when they received the orders to make a romance out of the Manual of Military Etiquette. 

Quartermaster Sokolov huffed. “I will tolerate no further outbursts. This is the order and you must obey.”

Silently, they waited until the Quartermaster was out of the Main Hall. 

“How do we do that?”

“That Manual is Boring!”

“Maybe we could use Maxim as the character who breaks all the rules and then gets punished?”

“No.”

“Not without his permission.”

“We could use the torch system.”

“And ask what? ‘Maxim, we want to write a romance about you’?”

“Yes, why not?”

“Isn’t that using military resources for a private matter?”

“Our orders come directly from the Ministry of War.”

“How did they come up with an order in two days? That was quick.”

That was so true! Everyone laughed. 

“Let’s give it a try.”

“And if it doesn’t work, we can ask for professional help.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ask whoever wrote the story the Chancellor gave to Filon and Artyom for help. That was a good story, Brothers!”

“That sounds good. All in favour, raise your hands.”

They all did. Sila grinned. A romance about Maxim and the Manual of Military Etiquette! That would be interesting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frankly, I am not that happy with this chapter but I haven't been happy with it since its first draft, so I doubt I will be happy with it ever... 
> 
> Assume that every other character not shown is doing what they started doing in the previous chapter(s) and this one: the Ladies are still spending their morning painting naked Guards and then working a bit on the property and inheritance bill before having lunch and tea and dinner, the Guards write stories and entertain the Court, when they don't investigate crimes, Grisha is trying to avoid everyone and ends up dragged into discussions about relationships, Evgeni and Thomas are working on their relationship, Nikolaj is thinking about his relationship, the Generals and the men are still eager to move forward, but only after they have a Grand Love Scene, Elik and Vasya play cards in the morning and go over different ideas to explain what happened, while in the evenings Vasya answers questions and tells everyone educational stories. same old, same old! :)


	81. Chapter 81

11th 

The men were in the process of reviewing yet another historical battle before redoing it, when they heard the sound of a group of men singing _For the Freedom of Our Land_.

A moment later, a soldier ran towards them. “His Majesty. His Majesty.”

Nikolaj glanced at Grisha. Together, they stood up and Nikolaj took a step forward. 

“You shouldn’t run to him, Sire,” Count Njedzic grinned, while the men abandoned their positions and started running towards the other side of the field. 

“Right,” he snorted and made to take another step. 

“He is right, Sire,” Grisha told him. “The men will want to know how this miracle happened. Best if we stay here, so that His Majesty can explain it to us and the men as soon as he arrives.”

With a smile, Nikolaj nodded and waited for his darling to arrive. Time wouldn’t pass fast enough, yet soon, his Elik was there. Oh, how he had thought that his darling was a vision when he had visited him for the first time at his camp at Oerestand. How much better his darling looked this time, dressed in purple silk under a robe of cloth of gold, and wearing a seemingly heavy necklace around his neck. He moved ahead of a column of riders in gleaming armours as if they had all ridden out of a fairy tale or a romance set in the times of valiant knights and heroes, he the most fairy-tale-like of them all. 

He stood watching him come closer and closer, beautiful and proud, a true warrior king among his warriors. This was his Equal, His One and Only. How could he have put his crown and imperial dignity above this living jewel, this star that shone so brightly, this dream that had taken flesh?

As the song ended, so did Elik halt his horse. 

With a smile, Nikolaj bowed before him. “My King,” he said as he stood up. “Welcome to our camp.”

Elik looked at him strangely, but finally nodded. “It is good to be here, My Husband.”

He smiled. Elik had responded so well to being called ‘his king’ at Sorain, but clearly, those days were past. “Welcome, Husband.”

“We have much to talk about, Husband,” Elik whispered, looking determined.

“We do, Husband.” He studied Elik. He hadn’t seen him in two months, so Elik shouldn’t be different, yet he seemed far more beautiful to him than ever before. “We heard that you were injured,” he asked as Elik dismounted and accepted his hand. 

“Yes, we all did Elder Alexandrov, Your Majesty,” Major Kamenski asked as well.

“I will explain everything in a moment.” He walked together with Nikolaj up to the pavilion where they were all standing in attention. “Grisha, guess who helped me come here?” he whispered. 

Grisha smiled and nodded. 

Nikolaj was surprised that the man did not ask where his husband was. But then again, he was surprised that neither Elik had embraced him, and he was even more surprised at how calm he was, despite the wild beating of his heart. His darling was there, and they would finally talk, yet he stood there as if they were in front of an altar, ready to perform the most solemn ritual. 

Ah, and how beautiful and regal his darling was. The most perfect Western princess, the most noble of his aristocrats would not have looked as composed and gracious and commanding as his darling looked that moment in his old-fashioned robes. His darling really was a fairy-tale prince. How great the Luck that had brought him to his side? How great the Luck that had guided his hand that moment more than three years earlier, to let him and Radu pass to safety? 

Elik turned around to face the men and made a gesture. From behind his hundred riders came his Guards, led by Vasya, and two Quhjani Majors and… Was that his frightening sister-in-law riding between them? Why was she there? And who was that equally frightening-looking girl next to her? 

“Husband,” Elik told him, clearly trying not to grin, “The Youth of Jedlowa came here to bring back home news of Our escape from certain death at the Capital.”

Vasya and the Majors led a group of maybe fifty young Gentlemen and Ladies in front of them, under everyone’s curious gaze. 

“Chairs for Her Excellency, her companion, and the officers,” Count Njedzic whispered the order behind him. 

“And have someone start preparing for a Ball tonight,” General Davin laughed quietly. 

Nikolaj nodded. Of course, they would have a Ball! His darling was there! More gorgeous than ever! 

Vasya dismounted and stood next to Lady Irina, waiting for her to come down from her horse. When she did, he gave her his arm and led her in front of them. One of the Quhjani Majors offered the same courtesy to the other young girl. 

“Your Majesty,” he said bowing, and Lady Irina bowed with him.

“Ladies curtsy,” he whispered, shocked.

“Not this one,” Elik smiled. “She and the other Young Ladies of Quhjan are allowed to bow, if they wish it, in the spirit of equality between men and women that has gripped the Youth of Jedlowa.”

Did he hear that correctly? “The what? What?” 

“I will explain later,” Elik grinned. “Unless their Teacher wants to do it?”

Vasya reddened as he went to stand behind Elik and Lady Irina came to stand next to Elik. Nikolaj caught Grisha smiling at his husband for just a moment. 

“Husband, I owe you an apology,” Elik said loudly. “Even more so, I owe an apology to Our most dear sister, and Our Most Brave and Courageous Men, for making you worry.”

The troops started cheering for Elik. Nikolaj felt wary and apprehensive and forced himself to stop and consider his emotions. He was a little upset that he may have been mentioned first by his darling, but he truly rated below his sister and the army in the list of people to whom he wanted to apologize. He was also a little jealous that his men were so devoted and loyal and… How well had Grisha put it; the men respected him, but they loved Elik. 

But, as he had repeated to himself all these days, if Elik had wanted to stand against him, he would have done it already. That he was there, was proof that Elik did not mean to use his authority against him – nor let anyone use it against Nikolaj. He smiled and waited patiently for him to continue. 

“I was, indeed, attacked by an assassin at the Capital, but I was not injured.”

The men started murmuring again. 

“I was forced, however, to let the rumour circulate that I was hurt, because,” Elik, his perfectly dramatic love, shuddered and raised both arms addressing the men, “I was not safe at the Capital. I had to  
come here, the only place in the Empire that was safe for me,” he cried, “and I could not do it while my enemies thought me well.”

Don’t grin, Nikolaj told himself sternly as he tried to look horribly shocked at these dreadful revelations his darling was making. Don’t grin! You are shocked! Shocked! 

“Death to His Majesty’s enemies,” his men started shouting.

He nodded in approval. How blood-thirsty they could be! 

“Praise be to Luck, His Majesty is safe,” Count Bitoulin and Grigori shouted the moment the men calmed down. 

“Praise be to Luck,” Nikolaj also said, joining his voice to that of the men. 

“Yes,” Elik smiled when they had fallen quiet again. “Yes, indeed.” He suddenly turned around, grabbed Vasya by the hand and presented him to the troops. “Praise be to Luck for bringing this man to my service. He alone saved my life two times, together with his team another three, and then brought me here to safety, for my enemies circled me like ravens at the Capital.”

The men looked at Vasya curiously. Those who knew him began murmuring and informing their fellow soldiers who he was, until everyone below them whispered, their voices reminding him of waves crashing by the beach on a summer day. 

Vasya looked like a deer startled by a sudden noise, still, in full alert, and ready to run. “Sire, I deserve no praise for doing my duty,” he protested, shocked. 

Nikolaj grinned. “He’s as humble as his husband.”

Elik smiled. 

“Sire,” Vasya whispered, “please, let me go.”

Nikolaj glanced down and saw that Elik was still holding Vasya’s hand. Should he be worried? 

Elik released Vasya immediately, and Vasya hurried to his place behind his darling. “Praise be to Luck,” Elik started again, and the men stilled. “For now, I am here, as your supplicant.” Elik turned to Nikolaj and grabbed both his hands, “Husband, protect me from my enemies who sent assassins to murder me, Fredrik, the bastard who stole Augustus’ throne, and Francis, the Liar.”

“Death to Fredrik.”

“Death to Francis.”

He stared at Elik and Elik stared at him, his expression curious and not pleading at all. Why was he being silent? Wasn’t he already marching against Fredrik? Didn’t he know that if he didn’t stop Francis, the man would kill his darling? Why was he staring at him feeling as if Elik was forcing him to do something he didn’t want? 

Or was it just because he felt that Elik was forcing him to do _something_ that he felt unable to react? Especially with all the men supporting his darling and ready to jump to the fire for his sake? 

“Sire, please, say something,” Vasya whispered urgently behind him as Elik stood still, his expression slowly turning miserable. 

No wonder Vassily had called him ‘the whispering shadow’. He sighed. He really was doing it again. “Ah, my Husband,” he said and hugged him, pressing him against his chest and feeling how tense Elik was. “We will keep you safe.” He glanced at the men, who were cheering again and calling for the deaths of Fredrik and Francis. “Tomorrow we march! That bastard’s head will roll,” he said first in Bosilik and then in Oerestandish, making everyone shout even more loudly. 

“Thank you, Husband,” Elik said, still looking a little hurt. 

He let him go and led him to his seat. “Men, will you show Our Most Precious what an Army is ready to defend him?”

The men didn’t move, but instead started whispering again, and staring at them at the pavilion. 

He gestured for Longin to come close. “Can you find out what they want?”

Longin snorted but ran down obediently. Moments later, he was back, grinning. “Sire,” he said quietly once he had taken his place behind him, “Now that they have seen the Colonel’s husband and learned of his loyalty, they really want to see them kiss,” he laughed. 

Ah, of course. He couldn’t blame them. How did they call him? The Beast? Now they all knew what a brave and handsome husband their legend had, one who was worthy of their Beast. In their place, he wouldn’t move either. 

“What are they waiting for?” Elik asked him. 

“The Grand Love Scene,” he grinned, glancing at Grisha, who was seated at his right. But why was Vasya still behind his darling? “What are you doing there? 

“Sire,” Vasya whispered, “As His Majesty’s aide, my place is here, behind him.”

Nikolaj frowned. They would never get that Grand Love Scene while Vasya was standing behind his darling like the world’s most perfect statue, a statue even more perfect than Elik. “But Grisha has been missing you so much.”

“I know where my husband’s place is, Sire,” Grisha said unhelpfully. “I can wait,” he smiled. 

“Darling,” he whispered at Elik, gaining a sharp look from him, “Husband, everyone wants to see them together. Maybe even kiss. Please?”

Elik’s eyes shone. “I want to see that too,” he murmured. “Vasya, no need for formalities from today. You are on leave and you may go sit by your husband,” he grinned.

Lady Irina let out a long sigh and held her companion’s hand. They both smiled. How frightening they both were! 

With a soft, frustrated noise, Vasya nodded and immediately moved towards Grisha. Hm, he really was most devoted to his darling, and obeying his every whim. Could he be in love with him? Nikolaj watched him even more attentively as Vasya walked behind them, stopped where Grisha was seated, and stared at him without moving, even though someone had brought a chair for him. And Grisha stared back.

They stayed like that, and Nikolaj felt something inside him ease. How could he be that stupid? The way they looked at each other hadn’t changed from the day they had shared one of their first kisses, more than a decade ago. Even if a whole group of naked Guards started dancing between them, they would still ignore them and only look in each other’s eyes. He glanced down, where the men were eagerly watching. “You may kiss your husband, Colonel,” he said, eliciting very loud cheers and sighs from the men, and a soft smile and nod from his darling.

Vasya didn’t move from his spot, but did turn to look at him and Elik with a stern expression. “It is a breach of military conduct,” he told them. 

“Vasya,” Grisha said quietly, and a little tiredly, “they all want this ‘scene’,” he all but spat out the word. “Siuta?” he said softly, and Nikolaj knew that even the people at the front row would not have heard him. “They have some strange ideas about us, but if we show them that we are just us, they will stop.” He smiled. “I know you want to sit with me. Come here and kiss me.”

Vasya sighed with a smile and made a soft noise of assent. “I cannot, not before I have your forgiveness,” Vasya said and knelt on both knees in front of Grisha as if he were a knight supplicant in one of the historical romances his darling favoured, and making everyone go even more quiet than when his darling was apologizing for pretending to be injured. “Grishka, I destroyed your peaceful life and made you follow a path you had not chosen.”

Vasya was loud enough for the men at several rows to listen to him, clearly obeying Grisha’s command to give the men a ‘scene’. And what a scene this was becoming. His darling leaned a little forward, eager to hear Grisha’s reply, just like the men at the first rows. 

Grisha stared at Vasya before sliding off his chair gracefully so he too could kneel in front of Vasya, mimicking him. For a few moments he just stared at him, and then took his hands into his and kissed his knuckles. “If you wish my forgiveness, you must first accept my apology and give me yours. Siuta, I ruined your life. I made you lose everything, and forced you down a path you had not wanted.”

“Grishka, how can you say that? I lost things and a family that could not accept us, but I gained you. In you, I gained everything! You are my world, Grishka!”

Elik tried hard not to sigh next to him but the men who could hear Vasya’s reply could not hold back. Nikolaj too smiled, wondering how the man who’d gone around the camp for days proclaiming his hatred of romances would reply to that!

“And you are my world, Siuta,” Grisha replied. “All the valleys and the mountains I want to travel are here,” he said, letting go of Vasya’s hands so he could touch his chest, “all the sweets I want to taste are here,” he continued, lightly caressing Vasya’s lips, “and the only sky I want to see is the one in your eyes,” he finished, sliding close and kissing Vasya’s eyelids. “Forgive me?”

“Forgive me?” Vasya whispered at the same time, and they both nodded, held hands and entwined their fingers. 

Nikolaj stayed still and quiet, not daring to disturb them as they looked into each other’s eyes again. His darling also was just as entranced by the sight, and just as quiet. 

“Kiss,” one of the men shouted, breaking the utter silence. 

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.”

Nikolaj smiled and nodded, his darling doing the same, while his Guards joined the men shouting ‘kiss’ loudly.

“It is against regulations,” Vasya said quietly and Grisha nodded. 

Nikolaj stared at them with shock. Seriously? “As everyone’s superior, I see nothing,” Nikolaj declared loudly. “Do you?”

His Generals all shook their heads, grinning.

Grisha shook his head. “I don’t understand why they are acting as if they see a romance in front of them,” he huffed. 

“It’s just us,” Vasya agreed. “I don’t understand either.”

Nikolaj and Elik turned to look at each other at the same time, with the same frustrated expression. They were either idiots, or completely oblivious, Nikolaj thought, and still couldn’t decide what. 

“And they call me ‘oblivious’,” his darling sighed, shaking his head. 

“Let’s give them their fucking kiss, Siuta, so they can leave us alone.”

“Are you sure? I have missed you. I will not stop at one kiss.”

Grisha nodded. “So have I. If they want to see us, let them.”

“The men at the Capital also wanted to see us, and I told them they had to wait until the Winter Solstice Ball, but maybe we can kiss now. They are getting a little annoying.”

“Yes, chanting ‘kiss’ as if … I don’t know as if what this is.” With a grin, Grisha moved. 

Vasya closed the distance between them, his hands found purchase on Grisha’s chest, Grisha wrapped his arms around Vasya’s shoulders and they kissed.

Vasya suddenly pulled back. “You started drinking coffee?” He asked curiously. 

“Do you mind?” 

“No.” He closed the distance between them and continued kissing him. 

Nikolaj whistled with joy. They really were so beautiful together, even more beautiful now that familiarity had taught them where to touch and how to kiss. Ah, how truly lovely they were. 

“It’s rude to stare like that,” his darling sighed beside him, “but they are such a handsome couple.”

“So passionate too,” Nikolaj nodded as they began sharing a kiss that was as fiery as the one Evgeni had shared with his husband a few days earlier. 

Grisha moved back. “Siuta? Will you make me a coffee cake later?” he whispered. 

“Of course, Grishka. With cream?”

Grisha reddened. A moment later, Vasya also turned red. Grisha smiled, and leaned forward for another kiss. 

Elik sighed and it seemed like his whole army sighed with him. 

Grisha broke the kiss. “Have you never seen two people kiss before?” he asked them, looking both confused and annoyed. 

“No, not after such declarations of love,” Elik told them, smiling happily. 

“What declarations?”

“Seriously,” Nikolaj grinned, “you still don’t…. Ah, I give up,” he sighed.

“This is us, being us,” Vasya told them and everyone sighed again. 

“Captain, that was better than any love story I have ever read, or any love song I have ever sung,” Evgeni sighed. “Ah, your words should become a song. ‘In you, I gained everything’.”

“’These are all the valleys and the mountains I want to travel,’” one of his darling’s Guards sighed. 

“And all the sweets I need are here’”, a third Guard said.

All six Guards sighed musically, bringing their hands in front of their hearts in the gesture of besotted lovers. 

Vasya stood up slowly, helping Grisha up as he moved. “Really, you think this is a romance?” 

“Do you?” Grisha asked them.

Elik and his Guards were the first to nod. Nikolaj and the Generals were the next. Finally, all his men started cheering and shouting ‘yes.’

“Really?” Grisha asked again. 

“Yes, Sir,” the men shouted as one, standing in attention. 

“Oh,” Grisha mumbled, slowly turning red in the face. 

“But it’s just us,” Vasya whispered, still looking shocked and embarrassed. 

“Well, you are behaving like romance heroes,” General Loviljin suddenly said with a fond expression. “Ever since I met you.”

General Mrishsnan nodded, also looking amused and affectionate. 

“But we never,” Vasya stammered and stared at Grisha. 

“No, never,” Grisha said just as quietly. 

“No, because you’ve always behaved like that,” Nikolaj grinned at them. “Now, will you sit and watch the mock-battle?”

“With your permission, Your Majesties,” Vasya said, “May I be excused? I promised Grisha a coffee cake.”

“And you always do what Grisha asks of you?” Nikolaj teased him. 

“Of course, if it is within my power to do it,” he said fiercely and earnestly, and everyone sighed. 

“But that is normal. When you love someone, you want to make them happy. Oh, Grisha, that really is the ultimate selfishness, to presume you are so selfless that your own self matters little, when compared to the self of your beloved.”

“It still sounds like selflessness to me,” Grisha huffed. “Unless love is mutual selfishness.”

“Selfishness is putting yourself first, and not your beloved,” Nikolaj told them before they started having a discussion. The men had wanted a Grand Love Scene and they had got that; he was not certain if they would care for a Grand Philosophical Talk on selfishness, although the topic was of personal interest to him. Watching them and hearing them talk had made him realise once more how much he needed to work on his relationship. “What you just described is the exact opposite. Go bake that cake, Colonel, and if you are successful, leave some for us to try.”

“Yes, Sire. Sire? I’m a Major.”

“You dare correct me, Colonel?” Nikolaj smirked. 

Grisha took Vasya’s arm in his. “I have much to tell you. With your permission, Your Majesties, I too would like to be excused. I would like some coffee, and maybe some cream?”

Vasya grinned. “Cream! I would like some too!”

Nikolaj laughed, wondering why the mention of cream could make them both so excited. “Off you go, then. We will see you at lunch.”

“Thank you, Sire,” they said at the same time, Vasya bowing more deeply than Grisha and then holding Grisha immediately. “Don’t strain yourself, Grishka.”

“It’s not that bad, Siuta.”

Vasya made a soft sound as he led Grisha away from the pavilion, Elik nodding and allowing Carel and two more of Guards to follow them, while the men sighed softly. 

“Ah, love,” he heard several whisper. 

Nikolaj smiled. “I think they finally got it. Grisha kept saying he hates romances, when he lives in one.”

“I hope so. It was so frustrating having Vasya tease us every night about our love of romances when he is the one whose life is one,” Elik smiled back. 

“Oh you, you alone, you move me, love,” they suddenly heard Vasya singing a slow, love ballad. 

As the men started sighing again, the Guards started singing along. “Your smile as you appear at the street.”

“In the crowd, your glance guides me to you,” whoever knew the ballad started singing. 

With a smile at Elik, Nikolaj joined them. Truly, his army would march on romance from then on! 

“We should have a new banner from now on,” he said when they finished singing and the men broke up in smaller groups again. “One proclaiming that we are an army of love.”

Elik looked at him curiously. “Are you well?”

“No. I wrote you I was not.” He took Elik’s hand and kissed his palm lightly. “Unlike Vasya and Grisha, we cannot leave the field. We will talk after lunch, I promise you.”

Elik nodded. “Could you explain to me what is happening? These drills are most peculiar.”

Nikolaj smiled with relief. This he could do. How perfect was his love; why was he being such an ass when he had such a jewel of a husband? 

&*&*

“I don’t understand them at all,” Vasya said quietly the moment they were away from the fields that the men were gathered, and they took the path along the main road leading to town. “They really think our lives are a romance?”

“I guess so. They have been so very weird for weeks, Vasya.” Grigori sighed.

“Are you well? Do you want to stop for a few minutes? We should have taken the horses.”

“Vasya, stop it,” Grigori smiled. “I will not lie, I am still in pain, but I really am getting better every day. And it’s only a short walk. That’s good exercise.” It really was so pleasant to walk back to town; the fields were full of late summer flowers, the air was fresh, and the sky was blue. Though Vasya’s eyes were bluer. Ah, Vasya!

“You are right.” Vasya stopped and kissed him gently on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I was so worried.”

“So was I.”

“Do you want to talk now or later?”

Grigori took out his list from his coat pocket and smiled as Vasya took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and looked at it. “We can start now. Hm, do you think we need to talk more about selfishness and selflessness?” 

“I am not sure. Do you think we should?”

Grigori studied him. “You are an idiot, Siuta. How could you think you were selfish when… Vasya? Shrine mice had more than I had when I met you. My peaceful life was one of poverty and struggle. You were not selfish; I was.”

“But you wouldn’t have been dragged into the military without me.” He sighed deeply. “I don’t think we are very suited for this life.”

Grigori nodded. “We give bad examples to the men all the time.”

“And we have little respect for the chain of command.”

“We think too much and encourage soldiers to think before obeying.”

“And we cause troubles for our superiors.”

“Perhaps we should retire,” they both said at the same time, and Grigori smiled at Vasya. “You think we can?”

Vasya sighed. “I mentioned that I could apply for early retirement so as to look after you, but His Majesty, Elik, looked so miserable at the suggestion that… I dare not.” 

“Another pointless dream, then?” Grigori told him miserably. 

“Perhaps but,” Vasya’s hold on his arm tightened for a moment. “You made a whole army get sick and I led a mutiny. With other commanders,” Vasya shivered, “we’d both be dead now, and…” He hugged Grigori. “I don’t want you to die, my Grishka.”

“I don’t want you to die either,” he whispered, playing with Vasya’s hair. 

“But we are troublemakers,” Vasya told him seriously when he let him go and they started walking again. 

“That, we are,” he agreed. 

“We need to find some way to get out of the military,” Vasya told him seriously. 

“Vasya, we really need to get out of Court, not just the military,” Grigori said. “His Majesty kept making jokes about how you might be in love with His Consort, and that ‘Vasya or not,’ he would not spare you.” He hugged him. “He was not joking, my Husband. He is too mad with love for his husband to see that he has nothing to worry about. Even though I am not sure how he loves his husband.”

“I wonder about that too. Did you see how he froze when His Majesty, Elik, asked for his protection? What did that mean?”

“Between us, and I think he might ask you about it as well, so you might as well know, His Majesty has been saying that he loves his darling well, but he loves his crown more.”

“So, does he believe that his One and Only is still less than him? Yet he is so possessive that he gets mad with jealousy? Does he love his husband like a child loves a toy? Or a doll?”

Grigori kissed him. “I knew you’d figure out why. Vasya, if he asks for help, please give it to him. The sooner they sort out their differences, the sooner we can start plotting our escape.”

Vasya nodded. “We really must. His Majesty, Elik, keeps calling me a ‘witch’. I do not think he means it in jest, Grishka, and if he says it in front of His Majesty? Oh, Grisha, I didn’t think twice when I led that mutiny for your sake, but I wouldn’t like to be killed just because Elik will call me a ‘witch’ in front of His Majesty in a bad mood. Everyone knows His Majesty hates witches.”

Grigori hugged him. “We will figure something out. Perhaps we can ask a doctor to testify that this injury has left me unable to perform my duties?”

“I hate lying.”

“So do I,” he sighed.

“Grisha, perhaps we can ask to be posted somewhere outside the Empire? I wouldn’t mind serving somewhere as an Embassy’s military attaché, although it would look like a demotion.”

“That would be nice! Maybe we could ask for a commission to the south?”

“Queen Adelaide is from one of the smaller kingdoms there. Perhaps she could interfere on our behalf?”

They both nodded and smiled. 

“So, diplomatic corps? That’s our plan A?”

“Yes,” Vasya smiled at him.

He nodded. “And I will find a way to join you. Let’s be honest and realistic, Vasya. His Majesty will probably disband the Reds as soon as he ends his war. They were in two mutinies in a year. Only a fool would leave such a Regiment intact and it is all my fault, for teaching the men to think first.”

Vasya sighed. “That was such a bad idea. What were we thinking?”

“Well, you are in Intelligence. Your men are supposed to think. But mine are soldiers; they are supposed to obey.” He sighed, feeling miserable. He really didn’t want to bring up item two on his list at that moment, which was ‘How could you think I can live without you?’ “Ah, Vasya, let’s not talk until later. Unless you have a pressing item in your list.”

“Well, my second item is…” Vasya stopped. “It is pressing for me,” he said earnestly.

Grigori stopped walking as well. “Then, let us talk about it. What is it?”

“Are you falling in love with Michal? Everyone wrote how you took care of him as if he were precious to you and you yourself wrote that you did not know what you were doing with him.”

What? “Siuta,” he shouted, “Are you an idiot? Michal is a boy! A boy I tortured. How could I be falling in love with him?”

“Ah, my apologies.” Vasya smiled awkwardly. “You are my One and Only, and… I didn’t know what to think, especially when you wrote what you wrote.”

“Siuta,” he groaned, “I felt bad. I had to stab him and if I had to, I would have killed him.” Vasya hugged him. “He was crying for his mother as I hurt him. What I did to him made me feel sick, once I finished. There’s no difference between us and them, Vasya; we’re all loyal to our kings, and it brings me no pleasure to torture people.”

Vasya sighed.

“Yes, yes, I know, but sometimes, we don’t have the time for cookies and tea.”

“I know,” Vasya agreed miserably. 

“And….” He moved away from Vasya’s hold and started walking again. “He is a good kid. He made himself my nurse,” he grinned. “I told him he could come back to me, if he wanted. Siuta Vasiuka, would you mind terribly if, after the kittens, we adopted yet another stray?”

Vasya looked at him with curiosity. “Excuse me?”

“I am not sure if adoption is the right word, but if he wants to come at Bosilke, I would like him to live with us until he gets his life sorted. It may not happen; he is very devoted to his mother, but….”

Vasya cut him off with a kiss on the lips. “If he wants to come live with us, then he will be welcome. Any person that took care of you has my eternal gratitude, so accepting him in our house is the least I  
can do.”

“Thank you. Siuta Vasiuka?”

“Yes, Grishka Grishuka?”

“Can you sing to me? Please? Of all the things I missed when I was recovering, was you singing to me. Please?”

“What do you want to hear?”

“In the Woods? Ah, His Majesty made me think of our wedding these days.”

“We had a beautiful wedding, hadn’t we? You had found such a perfect spot for us.” Vasya sighed happily. “Even if I had married in cloth of gold in my former family’s Shrine, my wedding would not have been as perfect or as beautiful. And you…” He kissed him. “You always were and still are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, but that day, you looked so gorgeous. Although….”

“Yes?”

“You looked even more gorgeous when I stripped you of your clothes and we lay together for the first time as husbands. Ah, Grishka Grishuka, we should have taken the horses.”

What a non-sequitur! “What?”

“Because I can’t wait to do more than kiss you and… your kitten wants your cream, Grishka Grishuka,” Vasya whispered in a low voice, almost like a deep purr. 

Fuck, they should have taken the horses, Grigori thought as his cock filled with blood. Vasya never called himself ‘his kitten’. Oh, Vasya must have missed him as much as he had. So, so much! “And I want nothing more than to give it to you, kitten, and for you to give me yours.”

They stopped walking and kissed again. Despite the urgency in their bodies, they both knew that waiting would only make their coupling sweeter. They could wait! 

&*&*

“So, this is where His Majesty stays and where you are billeted?” Vasily asked him in front of the large mansion overlooking the main square of the town. It looked big and impressive and more suitable to a large city than a town of middling size like the one they were. “Oh, my Husband, you are held in such high favour,” he smiled. 

“High indeed,” he snorted. “My room is in the attic. At least my window opens to the garden and not the square, so it is more peaceful and I can sleep in if I want.” Grisha made a soft noise.

“Grishka?” he asked, worried.

Grisha leaned close. “I really want to taste you, Siuta, but I don’t feel like walking up the stairs. Should we check if there is an empty room in the ground floor?”

“Grishka, I want that too, but… will that give me time to make your cake? Tomorrow we will be on our way, won’t we?”

“Yes.” Grisha smiled. “We will be following Their Majesties, right?”

“We could go back, if you want.”

“No, I want to help them sort out their relationship, so we can then… you know,” he whispered. 

“Then, we shall follow them. I wonder if we will see Grodholm.”

“That would be nice.” Grisha smiled widely. “Siuta, from now on, this will be my very first trip as a tourist!”

“Mine too. Grisha, I’m officially on leave!” 

They grinned at each other. 

“Come on, you. I want coffee and cake and cream,” Grisha whispered as he led Vasily up the stairs. 

“Sir,” the soldiers at the gate saluted him, “Are today’s drills already over?”

“No, not yet, Ivan.”

“Are you feeling well, Sir?” the other one asked, looking worried and making Vasily feel proud and worried in equal measure. Really, how charismatic was Grisha, to make strangers worry about him within days? His Grisha was so wonderful! 

And they really had to get out of the military before His Majesty thought them too troublesome! 

“I am fine, Abram.” He smiled. “You haven’t met my husband before, right? This is Colonel Vasily Lesnev.”

The two soldiers saluted him and looked at him wide-eyed. 

“Hello, Ivan, Abram. With your permission, I need to learn how to make the perfect coffee for my Husband,” he said as he guided Grisha in the mansion, hearing them sigh. 

“This is so weird,” he whispered, but didn’t finish as every soldier who was in the reception room playing cards or music stood up and saluted them.

“At ease,” Grisha told them, smiling. “May I introduce you to my husband, Colonel Vasily Lesnev. Vasya, here are Adrian, Toma, Arik, Pyotr, Igor, Stefan, Pavel, and Ivan.” 

“Pleased to meet you.”

These soldiers also looked at him strangely. 

Toma suddenly sighed. 

“Gentlemen, may I ask you a question?”

“Yes, Sir, yes.”

“We were just told that some of you….”

Grisha laughed.

“More than some of you,” he corrected himself, “think that our relationship is similar to that found in romance novels. Do you also think that?”

“Oh, yes,” Toma sighed. 

He also sighed. How had this happened? He and Grisha had always lived according to their natures, and tried to not let emotions stop them from doing their work. How had they become seen as sentimental and emotional as romance heroes? “I really find this so hard to understand,” he whispered. 

“Maybe we should just accept it, Vasya,” Grisha smiled at him. “And, you know, once they see that we are just us, they will stop.”

“Indeed. Where is the kitchen, Grishka? I have to bake your cake!”

“And I…. yes, let’s go there,” Grisha nodded. “Gentlemen, I will see you later. Vasya, I want to show you something.”

“Yes?”

Grisha smiled again and led him into a corridor and from there to the kitchen, where the staff was preparing the meal that would be served later. “Hello,” he told the two cooks and the nine servants working there. He introduced him to them in Oerestandish. 

One of the maids stumbled and dropped the tray she was carrying. She said something, sounding surprised and happy. “Oh!”

The others also gasped. 

They tried not to sigh. 

“Vasya, may I show you the roses first?”

“You may show me whatever you wish, Grisha.” He waited until they were in the garden. “Really, Grisha, why is everyone like this? What did we do to encourage this behaviour?”

“I don’t know!” Grisha sighed. “But I will accept it. At least they are not writing stories about us. Can you imagine that?” he asked as he cut a newly-opened red rose. 

Vasily cursed himself. That should have been the second item on his list, not Michal. “Erm, Grishka Grishuka?”

“Yes, Siuta Vasiuka?” 

“Some have already written stories about us. Whenever the Guards bring my things over, I will show them to you.”

Grisha fell heavily on the bench that was hidden inside one of the alcoves formed by the hedges around the perimeter of the garden and stared at him shocked for a few moments. 

Vasily sat by his feet and nodded. “Please, don’t be very upset with the authors, Grishka. If it weren’t for one of the stories, I’d probably still be at Ivanhof being miserable.” He smiled at him. “We’ve missed one anniversary already this year. I don’t want to miss another.”

Grisha started petting his hair and he leaned into the touch. “I’m glad you came, kitten,” he smiled, caressing his lips with the rose. 

He smiled. He had missed Grisha calling him that! “Also, Grisha Grishuka?”

“Yes, Siuta Vasiuka?” 

“Will you support this poor husband of yours? At least until my next pay check? I only have what’s in my bag and what I wear now.”

Grisha hit him lightly on the top of the head. “You can be such an idiot. Really, Vasya, what were you thinking?” he sighed.

“What else? That you had lost everything because of me once. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen to you again.” 

“Tomorrow, we will find one of the lawyers in Count Njedzic’ staff, and I will share everything I have with you. Stupid man,” Grisha snorted as he caressed his cheek very softly with one hand, and trailing the flower against his neck, making him shiver, with the other. 

Vasya nuzzled Grisha’s hand. “Grishka? When did I become a Colonel?”

“Soon after I became one. His Majesty…” he sighed and shook his head. “And that’s not the worst of it. He gave us land by lake Djerem.”

“What? But that’s…” Vasily felt himself pale. “That is where the nobles who are in imperial favour have their summer houses.” He couldn’t really decide what to ask next. “What… how… why?” 

“His Majesty felt guilty for what he did to me, so he gave me a house, and then, when he learned that His Other Majesty wanted to reward you for not letting the mutiny turn into a rebellion, he gave you one,” he sighed.

Vasily felt like crying. “We will never be free of the Court.” He hugged Grisha’s legs. “Grishka Grishuka,” he whispered miserably, “How will we be free?”

“Diplomatic corps, Vasya,” Grisha said as he caressed the top of his head and tucked the rose behind Vasya’s ear. He sighed. “Perhaps we need to accept that too. That we are trapped in this world of struggles and desires, and we will need to find peace in ourselves. If we have that, then it won’t matter if the world around us spins madly with strife and anger and passion. Don’t you think so?”

Vasily stared at Grisha’s clear, bright eyes. As usual, Grisha showed him the way. “You are so right. Peace is an inner quality, a state of being. If we have that, then it won’t matter where we are. But, Grisha, remember what I wrote you about all self-knowledge and desire, and how one had to abandon everything in order to find peace?”

Grisha nodded. 

“I can’t abandon love, Grisha. I have been thinking….”

“Yes, Vasya?”

“Peace through love, not through renunciation, comes only when you love everything and everyone.” Grisha frowned. “Not physically,” he grinned. “As Yeleni and Maati philosophers said, treat your slaves as you want your king to treat you, and do not do to others what would anger you if they did it to you. What is the principle that inspires both tenets?”

“Love?” Grisha smiled softly.

“Yes. It is not kindness.”

“Why not acceptance that we all share the same human nature?”

“But when we accept that we all share the same nature, don’t we also accept that we are kind to others because selfishly we love ourselves and so, we must treat others with the same kindness and respect that we expect them to treat us?”

“So, love is selfishness?” Grisha laughed.

“Yes, unless love becomes selflessness itself. And in order to do that in a pure and absolute sense, it must be selfless towards everyone – not just your beloved.”

“I see.” Grisha’s expression became even softer. “So, love must be patient and kind and forgiving, the way that a big brother doesn’t mind when his little brother is being an utter pest?”

Vasily laughed. “Something like that. I admit, sometimes I get irritated at my little brother, so I must work on it, but yes. Oh, Grisha, I forgot.”

“What?”

“His Majesty!” He gasped. “He’s made me his brother according to an old Quhjani custom. If I forget, remind me please to ask Major Kamenski details about it.”

Grisha started laughing. “Oh, my sweet, stupid man! You thought lands and houses will keep us tied to the Court, when His Majesty himself has tied you to him?” He shook his head, still looking amused. “Yes, we definitely have to accept that there will be no escape for us. Like we have to accept that people think our simple marriage is a romance worth watching.” Grisha’s expression turned sly. “What did you mean when you said that the men there wanted to see us?”

“I don’t even know how they came up with that idea, but for some reason, a lot of soldiers at the Reds’ Barracks wanted to see us naked! Together!”

“Well, I know I wouldn’t mind seeing you naked,” Grisha smirked. 

Vasily grinned. “You want to?”

“Here? In the garden?”

“We are hidden in this alcove thanks to the hedges,” Vasily smiled. “Besides, Grishka, fuck it! You are right; if they see as we are, they might leave us alone, and if they want to watch us, we might as well let them. Not that I expect anyone to be watching us now.”

“Then, what are you waiting for? Siuta, strip for me, please?”

Laughing, Vasily stood up and started undressing himself. “Grishka? Show me your dick, please?”

“Kitten wants cream?”

“Yes, please!” He leaned down to kiss Grisha. Ah, that taste of his, so pure after he’d kissed all the coffee away. 

Grisha moaned into the kiss and caressed his arms before moving away again. “No more kissing until you’re naked,” he declared, grinning. “You are far too distracting, Husband. And you taste so good. You will taste even better with coffee cake!”

“You will get your cake, Husband. But only after I get my treat. Ah, I missed you so much,” he sighed as he threw down his coat and started pulling off his shirt. 

“Ah, that’s where you were injured?” Grisha delicately traced his scar. “They hid it from me, for fear of upsetting me.”

“I’m…” He couldn’t say he was sorry; not when he knew he’d do it again. 

“It’s not a big scar,” Grisha said as he smiled. 

“I kept telling everyone it was just a big scratch but no one believed me,” he said and knew that he was whining. 

Grisha stayed silent, as if he wanted to say that he agreed with them, that this was more than a scratch. 

“I am fine,” he told him as he shifted so that Grisha could see the scar better. “Look? Dr Van Den Berg did such a good job!”

“I am glad,” Grisha smiled. “Remind me to thank him when we are back.”

“I will.” He finished untying his breeches and sat down so he could remove his boots and get them and his underpants off him more easily. He glanced at Grisha’s lap, where his husband was lazily stroking his hard cock. “I have missed you,” he sighed. 

“So did I. Really, Siuta, what was in that story that made you come to me?”

“It was more like what wasn’t. It was a story about me waiting for you and…. I realized that if I didn’t come find you, I would really be like that character, lonely and miserable in our big bed with our animals. I didn’t want to be like that.” He grinned as he wiggled his stockinged toes the moment they were free of his boots. “Besides, I’m good at waiting but I am better at getting what I want.” How he wished Grisha was well so that he could hug his broad back. Since he couldn’t, he stood up, pushed everything down and let Grisha look at him. “And you know what I want now?”

“I have an idea,” Grisha laughed as he spread his legs. 

Vasily knelt between them and took a deep breath of his husband’s musky scent. His usually spicy sweat odour was laced with coffee, making Vasily laugh. 

“What?”

Shaking his head, he took Grisha’s cock in his mouth and started licking it furiously, wondering if his semen would also taste of coffee. Soon, though, he forgot about that, the heavy weight of Grisha’s throbbing cock in his mouth too exciting to let him have any thoughts other than how to make Grisha come. How he had missed him. How he wanted to please him.  
How soft was Grisha’s skin where he touched it; how his balls hardened under his teasing fingers and how he longed to kiss them. Why couldn’t he? 

Smiling, he pulled away, kissed down the length of Grisha’s cock until his lips rested on his balls. Always looking up, he took first one, then the other in his mouth, and sucked them. His fist closed around Grisha’s dick and he stroke him. 

“Siuta,” Grisha groaned. “Oh, yes, faster.”

He obliged him as he tried to take both testicles in his mouth and felt their warm, heavy hardness fill him completely. He moaned with delight that he could make Grisha shiver with desire. With a slurping sound, he released them and his lips followed the trail of the pulsing vein on the underside of Grisha’s cock to the tip.

Grisha’s cock throbbed happily in his hand and, after kissing the head a few times, he took it in his mouth again. How wonderful it was to make Grisha happy! Love in the abstract sense and love for everyone were marvellous, but love for Grisha was what filled him and moved him and made him strong. 

You, my love, you, he hummed as he took him deeper into his mouth. 

“Siuta,” Grisha gasped, “I’ll come.”

Looking up, he sealed his lips even more tightly around Grisha’s cock and smiled.

With the fingers of his left hand, he felt Grisha’s balls move higher and become even harder. Moments later, Grisha’s cock pulsed frantically in his right fist, and his semen, bitter, salty, hot filled his mouth. Vasily swallowed it eagerly. It was not what he’d been used to, but it was Grisha’s, his Grisha he had almost lost to bad luck. It was fitting that it was more bitter than usual. 

When Grisha finished coming, he kissed his cock free from his mouth. 

“Ah, Siuta,” his husband sighed with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Grisha looked at him. “If you stand up, I will suck you.”

Oh course, what an idiot he was. Grisha was comfortable where he was. How could he expect him to move? He hurried up and his cock bobbed against his stomach, full of eagerness and anticipation that had been put aside while he pleased Grisha. 

“How handsome you are everywhere,” Grisha said as he started stroking him with both hands. 

“You are the handsome one.”

“Flatterer,” Grisha laughed. “As if you need pretty words to make me do your will,” he continued, grinning widely for a moment before kissing the head of his cock. 

Vasya shivered. His Grisha’s lips were so soft and tender, yet so firm. “Suck me, please,” he whispered. 

Grisha nodded as he took him in his mouth. Hot, tight, wet, his mouth was just so perfect. He shuddered as Grisha started licking him, his tongue burning and soothing wherever it touched him. “Grisha,” he moaned. “Grisha!”

The fire inside him burned even more hotly the moment Grisha’s strong, determined hands touched his balls and played with them. How his husband knew how to excite him. How much did Vasya want to surrender to him. 

Why was he holding back?

“Grisha, I’ll come,” he told him with a gasp. 

Grisha winked at him and he felt his already frayed control break. Balling his hands into fists so as not to accidentally touch Grisha and hurt him, he shuddered and surrendered to his desire, to his husband’s hands and mouth, to his Grisha! Grisha! Grisha! 

“Ah, Grisha,” he sighed happily. “How I love you.”

With a kiss, Grisha released his cock, and he shivered again. 

“I love you too, my Siuta.” Grisha smiled at him quietly as he sat next to him and lay his head on Grisha’s arm. “Hey.”

“Hey to you.”

“Siuta Vasiuka?” Grisha asked him a few minutes later.

“Yes, Grishka Grishuka?”

“Now that we’ve had cream, can we have cake?”

Vasily laughed. “Greedy ass,” he said, sitting up so he could kiss his cheek. “You’ll have your cake, don’t worry.”

“I’m just saying. If you give me cake, I’ll give you more cream later.”

He shivered. More cream! After all these weeks, he’d do anything for more cream! He grabbed his clothes from the ground and started getting dressed in a hurry. More cream!


	82. Chapter 82

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in the 11th of Harvester, and picks up where the previous chapter left off.

Maxim adjusted himself, groaning. “Fuck,” he muttered as he moved away from the window. He’d never have imagined that the Captain was so gifted! Not as gifted as His Majesty; he doubted anyone had a weapon such as his, but still, gifted! Oh, if only Carel’s room had been on the second or, better yet, the first floor, so he could see the Captain’s dick even better, because, even from the third floor where they were, it had looked like a pretty nice dick, of good size and girth! What a delight and a challenge it would be to deal with that dick! 

How lucky the Colonel was to have something so nice to play with! It was such a shame that the man was his Captain, and he was married! And blond, he reminded himself. “Fuck,” he sighed. That dick from then on would always be the One Maxim Could Not Touch! The shame of it! 

Valery nodded. 

Carel wiped his brow. “Fuck, indeed,” he said.

On the other hand, he did see a really good and solid performance. If he couldn’t touch that dick, he would draw it from memory first, and then figure out a way to see it again. Or at least, imagine it! Better yet, imagine the Captain and his husband together. Ah, how right he had been; if those two had stayed in bed and protested, the army would have stopped just to see them kiss and caress each other. They were both so handsome and full of manliness, vigour, and tenderness, ideal warriors and partners. They were exactly what each Bosilik man wanted to be, or wanted to fuck – or both!

“That was a ten,” Maxim told them with absolute certainty. He wished they had been able to hear what the Captain and his husband had been whispering as they caressed, but they were too high up for that. At least they had been able to watch them, and what a sight that was! “Different from their Majesties, but also a ten.” He grinned. “I do feel we missed out that only one was naked, but there is something about one lover dressed while the …”

Valery hit him on the arm with the back of his palm. 

“What?” Maxim whined. “Am I wrong?”

Carel shook his head. “I think everyone should fuck with their stockings on. Especially when they have such nice legs, like the Captain.”

“Oh, yes. The only way to improve this would be if the Captain had climbed on his husband’s lap, trapping him with his legs,” Maxim grinned. He smiled slowly as he imagined it, wondering if it would be the prelude to a fuck or not. Hm, the almost-naked Captain riding his dressed husband, and his husband holding on to the Captain’s thighs, so perfectly framed by his stockings, and looking at that beautiful, big cock that was….

Valery hit him again on the same spot. 

“What?” he complained. 

“You were drooling,” Valery chuckled. 

Maxim laughed. “Yes, maybe, but did you see how perfect those legs look in stockings? Long and lean and…”

Carel sighed.

“You don’t even like men, why are you sighing?” Valery asked him curiously. 

“I don’t, but I like long, lean legs. What if the Captain were a woman?” He sighed again, groaning. 

Valery and Maxim stared at him. 

“You are weird,” Maxim snorted. The Captain, a woman! Hm.

“Actually, if men and women are equal, then women can also serve in the army,” Valery said. “I wouldn’t mind a woman Captain, if she were as capable as the Captain.”

Carel’s eyes widened. “What an idea, Brothers!”

“Oh, Carel, wait until we tell you what the Captain has been teaching the Youth of Jedlowa all these days!”

Maxim nodded. “Equality for men and women! Women having equal rights as men.”

“The right to be as educated as men, and to take part in government!” Valery added. 

“It sounds…” Carel gasped. “Brothers, that is unheard of!”

“Apparently, there was one single philosopher in ancient Yeleno that had claimed those things: that men and women should be equally educated and do the same things, including serving in the army!”

“But no one took him seriously for over a thousand years.”

“Except our Captain,” Maxim smiled. 

“His head is in the clouds as always,” Carel grinned. 

They nodded, smiling.

“Well, I suppose change has to start somewhere,” Carel chuckled. “So, why not from a Captain teaching young people what the ancients thought and making them think about how to shape their future?”

Hm!

“Brothers,” Valery suddenly broke the silence as he looked down again, and Maxim and Carel followed his gaze. The Captain was fully dressed again and was guiding his husband back to the kitchen, their arms linked. “We must write their story!”

“Or any story!” Carel smiled. “Even I would read a story about them, despite having two men as the main characters. But maybe we can have a man and a woman couple somewhere in the story? Just to make things a little more interesting for men like me?”

“We could,” Valery said as Maxim grimaced.

“Maxim, women are not that bad,” Carel laughed.

“No, but…” he shivered. “They are fine as friends, but thinking of women as lovers? Ewww!”

Valery and Carel both hit him. 

“What now?”

“That was very narrow-minded,” Valery told him seriously.

“Yeah, if you don’t like it, don’t read it.”

“But all the romances are with men and women. I’m tired of them! I want romances with just men,” Maxim told them seriously. He’d been tired of imagining men in the place of women when he read a romance! But they were right; he could always skip those parts if he finally had a romance with two men protagonists!

“Maybe we should write two stories. One with just men and maybe friends as women, and one with men and women,” Valery said.

Carel grinned. “A story where the Captain is a woman! A tall, lean, blonde woman who dresses in men’s clothes, and does what men do! And who fucks her husband only in her stockings!”

Maxim frowned. It would be strange and fantastical, but… “If Her Excellency and her friend can write a story where the Majors meet at a costume ball, why not?”

“Indeed,” Carel grinned. 

“Only…”

“Yes, Valery?”

“We should ask their permission. I don’t think it’s right to do this behind their backs. Especially if we write their story,” he sighed dreamily. 

“What if they say ‘no’?”

“They can’t say no! A story with a female Captain would be so great! I have the plot already. She is the disguised daughter of a minor nobleman who has come to serve in the army in her twin brother’s place, who is sick. Through her will and skills, she climbs up the ranks. A fellow officer discovers her secret, but instead of denouncing her, he supports her, wins her heart, and they get married. And then they fuck. A lot!”

“Maybe they can fuck before they are married too,” Maxim grinned. “Change has to start somewhere!”

They laughed. 

“I like that story!”

Maxim nodded. The plot seemed intriguing and exciting, and he could always skip the fucking part. 

“Yes, we have to ask them. And if they say ‘no’, they say ‘no’,” Valery told them. 

If they said ‘no’, Maxim would pass on the duty of writing the story to someone else. Someone who didn’t know that the Captain and his husband had said ‘no’. He smiled. “Fine, let’s ask them.” He hurried out of the room and run down the stairs, Carel and Valery laughing and following him. 

Maxim ran into the kitchen and grabbed the door frame with one hand, while trying to salute with the other and not crash into one of the maids, who was trying to leave the room. “Sir!”

The Colonel was standing next to the Captain, both in front of the stove. They both turned at Maxim’s word. The Captain still had that rose on his hair and Maxim sighed. 

“Maxim?” the Captain asked him curiously.

“The water, Siuta! This is the right boiling point,” the Colonel shouted. “Look.”

The Captain ignored them in favour of seeing what was the right boiling point. “Ah.”

“Now you can pour it over the ground beans, and we wait for the coffee to steep.” 

Ah, so that was what they were doing, the Colonel teaching his husband how to make coffee the way he liked it. This really was even better than romances! No one in the stories he’d read had done that! 

The Colonel leaned close to whisper something to the Captain, and that made him laugh. “So,” he turned around, “What are you doing here?” he said as he took a seat by the table. 

“Are you not with His Majesty?”

“We thought of following you, in case anything happened to you on the way.”

“What could happen to us?” the Captain asked as he sat next to his husband.

“Robbers?”

“Thieves?”

“Assassins?”

The Captain stared at his husband, who looked amused. “You should have stayed with His Majesty.”

“He has twenty thousand men ready to defend him, but you had no one, Sir,” Carel said. 

“Fine,” the Colonel grinned. “Thank you for your consideration and for looking after us. We were a bit distracted on the way.”

Maxim nodded with a smile, and the Captain reddened. Ah, but it had been so exciting to watch them walk ahead, whispering to each other and then stopping every few minutes to hug and kiss, before the Captain started singing for the Colonel! 

The Colonel truly was a lucky man! How could Maxim not want such a husband? Only, his husband had to allow him to have lovers! 

“So, how may we assist you now?”

Valery and Carel nudged Maxim. “Sirs? May we write a story or two about you? They will be fantastical.”

“No, one should be your story,” Valery insisted. 

“You want to write a story or two about us?” the Colonel asked them, with a curious expression. “Let me guess, romances?”

They nodded, and so did the kitchen staff.

The Colonel turned to one of the Cooks and asked him something in Oerestandish. The woman replied in the same clipped, harsh language, looking embarrassed. “Of all the Bosilik words to pick up, ‘romance’ had to be the one’,” he grinned. 

“Well?” Maxim asked again, trying to sound as polite as possible.

The Colonel looked like was trying very hard not to laugh. “If you say that people are already writing fantastical stories about us, I don’t see why not. Vasya?”

The Captain studied them. “If you don’t mind, then… I can accept it,” he smiled with resignation. 

“Thank you, Sirs!”

“Yes, thank you!”

Maxim nodded excitedly. Oh, the possibilities! 

“Since you are here, would you mind helping me?” the Captain asked them. “Grisha told me that there are usually around forty people having lunch with His Majesty, but today, between us and the Youth of Jedlowa, I think I should make enough cakes for about a hundred people, because it wouldn’t be fair to offer cake to Her Excellency but not her friends. I could use the help.”

“Anything you want, Captain.”

“You really will make coffee cake?”

“How?”

“I have no idea,” he grinned. “Let’s find out!”

Valery may have wanted the Colonels to share their story, but he’d be happy with a story with them trying to make a cake and getting distracted all the time. Maybe even one where the Captain stopped to sing for his husband every few minutes. It would be such a sweet romance!

&*&* 

Elik was beginning to grow tired of everything. Of sitting still next to his husband with a smile on his lips, of watching the men have so much fun while he forced himself to be still, of really wanting to scream at Vasya that it wasn’t worth being so dignified, and that he really wanted to punch this wretched husband of his! 

Perhaps he should claim that he was overcome by the heat and ask to be excused. His riders had already taken off their armour and were sitting together with the men that had left with Major Kamenski under a canopy, chatting and having tea. If they had stopped pretending they were fairy-tale knights, why should he pretend he was a fairy-tale king? 

If he returned to town, he was certain that he would find Vasya and Grisha in the kitchen of whatever house they occupied, having fun. Surely, they would let him join them. He snorted lightly. Wretched husband aside, he was enjoying himself. The mock-battle was a really exciting training exercising, both physical and mental, giving ambitious young officers a taste of command and teaching soldiers that, no matter how strange the tactics of their opponents, they could overcome surprises and deal with the unexpected thanks to their training. 

Generals Loviljin and Mrishsnan were great at explaining how what they saw differed from the battle proper they were redoing, while General Davin and his husband enjoyed tried to predict what the next moves would be. If he were honest, he felt a little satisfied every time his husband made a mistake, and a little proud every time his prediction came true. How confusing everything was.

He smiled. He complicated things needlessly. What was his truth? That he was not there to beg nor to punch his husband. He was there to win him and make him acknowledge him. If he couldn’t win Nikolaj’s love, then he would have his respect. He was Elik, and he deserved to be treated with dignity. 

A loud shout startled him and make him realise he wasn’t paying any attention to the mock battle. 

“I won,” his wretched husband grinned. He turned towards him, smiling, and touched his hand. Elik glanced at it and Nikolaj removed it immediately, his smile disappearing. 

Elik smiled. “Congratulations, Husband. What did you win?”

“A cake from Count Bitoulin, a biography of Laurus from General Loviljin, and a new shirt from General Davin.”

Elik felt his eyes narrow. “You allow other men to cook for you and give you clothes?” he asked as calmly as possible. 

Nikolaj grinned. “They are all married men. Why, are you upset? Are you jealous?” Nikolaj teased him. 

So what if he was a little? Davin and Loviljin were both older than his husband, but Count Bitoulin was as old as his husband, and quite handsome too! “I am not. It’s just not proper.”

“I bet you let Vasya cook for you.”

“Vasya is different.”

Nikolaj’s eyes narrowed.

“He is a married man! Why, are you upset? Are you jealous?” he huffed, repeating Nikolaj’s words.

His husband started laughing. “Ah, Darling, how much I have missed you.” He stood up and offered Elik his hand.

If Nikolaj had really missed him, he wouldn’t have stood like a log when Elik had made his little speech. It had been a good speech, if he said so. He’d written four drafts before deciding what exact words to use and had practiced it well while riding in the carriage with Vasya. And all for what? For his wretched husband to stare at him as if he spoke a foreign language, making him feel more and more… Ah, he wouldn’t be miserable anymore, hadn’t he decided? 

He took a deep breath and took Nikolaj’s hand. He would gain the respect owed to him, if not anything else. 

“Today, Our Most Perfect and Gracious Consort will give the prize to the leader of the winning team. Captain Spirov?”

Count Bitoulin approached and gave a sealed scroll to Elik while an excited man only a couple of years older than Elik ran up to them and bowed with a happy smile. 

Elik studied him. He too was quite handsome, and his wretched husband knew him by name. He ought to do like Queen Katalina had done from then on, and always join his husband on campaigns – if he still had him as a husband after their talk. Ignoring the little stab of hurt jealousy he felt, he smiled at Captain Spirov and handed him the scroll.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said with another bow.

Oh, he even had a pleasant voice.

He smiled, not wanting to talk to the man. 

“Good job leading your team to victory, Captain,” his husband said. “I especially liked how you went ahead with the arrow formation. Can you tell Us more?”

“Ah, of course.”

As the Captain started explaining his tactics, Elik forced himself to smile even more pleasantly. Either his wretched husband was interested in this handsome Captain or he was stalling! He knew it! Ah, he should have punched him in front of every one the moment he saw him instead of being so fucking dignified!

&*&*

His wretched husband was definitely stalling; Elik was certain of it. The moment the first course was served, his husband grinned. “For some reason, lunch is always interrupted at around…” The door opened and the guard at the entrance let in a messenger. “Ah, yes,” he laughed as he turned towards Grisha. “Another one of your men?”

“Yes, Sire. What news, Pyotr?”

“We have letters for His Excellency, Sir. And a message for Maxim, that we got yesterday.”

Nikolaj smirked as Pyotr brought a few letters for Vasya. “I think they are playing a joke on me,” he whispered at Elik as Vasya opened the first of the letters. 

Maxim coughed behind him. “Sire? Can you ask what the message for me is?”

Elik turned his head back slightly and smiled at him. “Are you sure you want to hear it in front of everyone? Look how everyone whispers like they are betting on the letter’s contents since they can’t tell what Vasya is thinking.”

Maxim grinned. “Oh, yes. How bad can it be?”

“As you wish.” He turned towards the messenger. “Pyotr, may you tell Us what the message for Maxim is?”

Pyotr reddened. “Erm…. It is kind of private.”

His husband snorted. “We have no secrets here. Just ask Grisha.”

Elik turned towards him. What did he mean? 

He was pleased to see that Vasya also looked up from the letter and gave his husband a curious look. The next moment, Grisha touched his arm and whispered something that made him nod. 

More secrets! What where they hiding? 

“Please, Sire, what is the message for me?” Maxim whispered.

“Pyotr, do tell Us your message,” he asked again.

“The message is, ‘Must write romance. Be our hero? Your brothers.’?”

Nikolaj and he turned to look at Maxim at the same time. 

“Erm… Only if I have the right to approve it in the end. If I don’t like it, they can’t show it to others.”

“Fuck,” they heard Grisha laugh, “We should have asked for the same right.”

“Too late now,” Maxim laughed as well.

Elik grinned. “Maxim, you asked them? And you got their permission? You should have told me that immediately! How wonderful!”

His husband frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“That Vasya and Grisha agreed to have their story told. In a romance!” he replied, still grinning. 

“Sire, no, we did not,” both of them protested.

“Then, what did you agree to?”

“Just stories,” Vasya mumbled. 

“Fantastical ones,” Grisha smiled. “Carel told us the plot of what he wants to write and I think it’s a marvellous idea!”

“Stories? Fantastical ones? Romances?” Nikolaj repeated, still looking confused. “About Vasya and Grisha? Why?”

“We have the same question, Sire, but…” Vasya sighed while Grisha laughed. “We have accepted that people can be weird,” Grisha said. 

“We are not weird,” Carel said. 

“You want a female Captain. You are weird,” Maxim said in a low voice, obviously trying hard not to laugh.

“I think that’s a most innovative idea,” Vasya said, his steady and loud voice belying the slight redness in his cheeks. “Why not have women serve in the army if they are equal to men?”

Everyone fell silent, and stared at him. Elik smiled. Vasya was so strange! But so passionate about his beliefs! He was so wonderful to behold when he burned with his own righteousness. Even more than his patience, Elik admired his strength. How he wanted to have a little bit of that when he talked to his husband. 

“I stand by my statement,” he told them seriously, while Grisha looked at him with pride. 

Irina and her friends started clapping. “We, the Youth of Jedlowa stand by our Teacher’s statement,” Irina said. “We want change, and we want it now!”

“We want women in the Council of Elders,” Katya said even more loudly. 

“And men to be able to resign and leave their position to their sisters,” Dmitri Grigorief added. “Milka or Olga would be better at it than me! I don’t want to be an Elder,” he cried, and his sisters immediately hugged him. 

Elik frowned. He had expected his sister to want Women Elders, but not that a man would want to abandon his duty towards Jedlowa because he felt he was unable to shoulder it. How truly interesting this generation of young people was! 

Nikolaj shook his head. “I don’t know what is what happening here. Darling, can you please explain?”

He ignored how Nikolaj had called him something that he wasn’t. If he were his husband’s darling, his husband would have come to his rescue immediately – or issued orders to that effect. Stupid, wretched husband of his! 

“People want to write romances about Vasya and Grisha because they are such paragons of loyalty and fidelity, not just to the Crown, but also to each other. If only all husbands were as devoted to their partners as Grisha and Vasya are to each other,” he sighed, trying hard not to look pointedly at Nikolaj. “When We go back home, We will have their portraits done as permanent examples of what marital fidelity looks like.” This time he glared at Nikolaj for a moment and then looked away. 

“What?” Grisha tried to whisper.

“I’ll explain later,” Vasya answered in the same tone.

“You do that, as long as you don’t put their portraits in our bedroom,” Nikolaj laughed.

“Then I will put them in mine, and you can stay away from it,” Elik whispered, trying to control his anger. “Husband, when will we talk?” he continued. 

Nikolaj studied him. “Soon.”

Elik huffed and took out his notebook and started writing. _He has been stalling ALL MORNING. Can I punch him? Please?_ He cut the page, folded it, and gave it to Vadim. “To Vasya, please.”

“Darling, are you trying to seduce Vasya?” his wretched husband whispered at him with a grin. 

“Vasya is my brother, you….” He growled. 

Nikolaj shivered. “Darling,” he said in a low, rumbling voice, staring at him with dark eyes full of desire. “Darling,” he continued even more seductively, standing up, and offering him his hand. “Let’s go talk.”

Despite his anger, Elik felt his knees go weak at the passion in his husband’s voice and expression. “My Nikolaj,” he sighed as he stood up and gave his hand to Nikolaj, “Yes, but we will talk, right?”

Nikolaj nodded. “Please, continue with your meal,” Nikolaj said graciously. “We will see you for tea and coffee.”

“If you still love me like this, how can you also…” He sighed again they were out of the dining room and on their way to Nikolaj’s rooms. 

“I don’t know,” Nikolaj replied miserably. “Perhaps you can help me figure it out? And if not, maybe Vasya can help?”

Elik nodded. “Probably. I think he knows everything, even though he always disagrees with me on this.”

Nikolaj snorted. “I would also disagree with you on this. Vasya really doesn’t know everything.”

“Really?”

He nodded, smiling. 

“Really? Give me one example.”

“Well…” Nikolaj looked very smug and pleased for a moment, but then his expression turned wistful. “For example, he doesn’t know that, even though his father had disinherited him, he still cared for him very deeply.” Nikolaj smiled a little. “He doesn’t know that even my Most Noble and Proper Mother had secretly approved of his union with Grisha. She was my Regent when it happened; she could have made their lives difficult the moment I left for my campaign against Setland, but she let them be.”

Setland, as in that first war-caught bride of his husband’s? The one who had killed himself after… He shivered, praising Luck that Nikolaj had decided to leave him intact and marry him. “Sometimes, I forget how old you are,” he whispered.

“Old?” Nikolaj suddenly grabbed him and put him over his shoulder. “I will show you old,” he smirked, caressing his ass and making him melt and feel safe. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he chuckled. 

“It’s what you said.”

“I just meant… You have lived a whole life before me.”

“So did you.”

“Yes, but your life is longer than mine.” 

Nikolaj snorted. “You are calling me ‘old’, Husband.

Elik huffed. “I am trying to say that,” he laughed as Nikolaj entered the anteroom of his bedroom and the Guards pretended with great difficulty not to see the un-imperial sight of Nikolaj carrying him like a sack of potatoes. The Guards outside his bedroom door even turned away, making him laugh even harder. “Oh, Husband,” he wheezed. “I have missed you,” he said as Nikolaj put him down. “And I love you so much. I know we love differently, but…” even though Nikolaj looked more dejected than full of desire again, he continued, “Charles would never have treated Philippa like this. Is this because I’m not a woman, and cannot bear your children?”

Nikolaj shook his head. He made Elik sit on a chair and sat on the bed facing him. “I would have done this even if you were a woman,” he sighed. “My Love, I love you, but I love myself more.”

Elik stayed silent. What could he say to that? Change yourself for my sake? Love me more? Didn’t he always know that Nikolaj loved him differently than he loved him? He took a deep breath. “I cannot ask you to love me more than you love yourself. But I ask you to treat me with the respect you would treat any other human being, and show me the respect you should show your One and Only.”

Nikolaj just stared at him. 

“Husband, even if I were just the ornament in your arm, as Lady Ekaterina tried to teach me, shouldn’t you have tried to protect your property? Why did it take you days to approve Grisha’s plan? Why did you not answer me when I asked for your protection?”

“Honestly… I am not sure. I felt like you were forcing me to do something. I don’t like being told what to do, Elik.”

Elik stared at him and hoped his disbelief showed. “I did not ask you to do something you hadn’t decided to do already. I even said that Fredrik was my enemy in order to make the troops follow you even more eagerly against him, even though he is not.”

Nikolaj sighed. “He is. He plotted this with Francis.”

“What?” he shouted, standing up and glaring down at Nikolaj. “You knew that and you still did nothing?” 

“I felt forced,” he mumbled, looking completely different from the Nikolaj he knew, confused and curious. 

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“You must know. Why?” Elik insisted, still looking down at that wretched husband of him. He kicked him with the side of his foot, without putting any force. When Nikolaj stayed silent, he went back to the chair and sat down with a deep sigh. “I don’t understand you at all. Why?”

Nikolaj grinned suddenly. “I heard Vasya asks why without stopping until he has an answer. You have learned well from him.”

He snorted. “It seems so.” How would Vasya handle this situation? What would he ask? “You said you don’t like being told what to do. But I did not tell you what to do, I asked for your protection. Why couldn’t you give it to me?”

“I don’t know,” Nikolaj shouted at him. “Sorry,” he said, immediately lowering his voice and looking at him with a remorseful expression.

Elik took a deep breath. “What am I to you, Nikolaj? You said we were One Mind in Two Bodies, yet…” he frowned. “You would let me be killed. I don’t think you care much about this body of our mind.”

Nikolaj looked at him incredulously. “Don’t be….” He said and stopped himself. “I do love you,” he whispered, “but…”

“You love yourself more,” Elik repeated his words. He stood up. “I am going to find another house where I can stay. Queens have separate bedrooms from their Kings, after all. Perhaps you have forgotten that, but I haven’t."

“Elik,” he whispered. “I thought you…”

Elik shook his head and walked out as calmly as he could while he felt his eyes burn with unshed tears. He would not lose his dignity in front of his husband. He could not.

And his wretched husband just let him walk away. Oh, how miserable he was. He touched the door handle. You are such an ass, he wanted to shout before opening the door. Instead, he opened it and walked out of the bedroom as calm and dignified as an Imperial Consort ought to be.

The Guards outside the bedroom door pretended they didn’t see him. He nodded at them and walked out of the anteroom as well. “Where is Vasya?” he asked the guards outside. “Still at lunch?”

“He is at the Garden, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you.” Ah, how had Vasya known this would happen? Elik hurried down and went out in the garden, where Grisha and Vasya were sitting on a bench, sharing a piece of cake. “There is nothing to talk about,” he told them as he sat next to Vasya. 

Vasya gave the plate to Grisha and looked at him. “Do you want a hug?” he asked him softly.

“Yes, please.”

The moment Vasya hugged him, he sniffled. “I should have punched him. But I didn’t cry either.”

“You did well,” Vasya told him, his voice betraying his smile. 

“But you should talk,” Grisha said. “He wants to fix whatever the problem is.”

“The problem is that he doesn’t love me. And he doesn’t want to fix it.”

“Ah, Brother,” Vasya sighed. “May I try talking to him?”

“Be my guest,” Elik snorted as Vasya released him. “And can you ask if they can find another house for me? I cannot share a room with him. Not tonight.”

“Of course, Sire.”

Elik sighed again, watching Vasya leave to have a needless talk with his stupid husband. “I told him I wanted to sleep elsewhere and he just let me walk out of his room,” he sniffled. “He really doesn’t love me.”

“He was probably shocked. When he is, he doesn’t respond immediately.” Grisha smiled at him. “His mind always takes a few moments to realise what is happening. Only at the battlefield he knows how to grasp his chance. I wonder….”

“What?”

“If you should have punched him, after all.”

Elik grinned. “I should have but… what would be the point of it? I would have felt satisfied for a moment, and miserable for hours.” His smile fell. “I do love him, even now that I wish I didn’t even more than I did weeks ago.” He sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I would,” Grisha smiled. “So many times, I wished I didn’t love Vasya.” Elik frowned, and he continued. “When I first realized that I loved him, when I realized that he loved me back, those weeks when he kept proposing to me, even though I kept rejecting him…. I could see that I was going to be his ruin, and I wished I didn’t love him, and were able to let him go but…” He snorted. “He was the only beautiful thing in my whole miserable life, and I couldn’t let him go. Even afterwards, when I had seen how my love had ruined his life, and I wished even more I hadn’t loved him, I still couldn’t let him go, and let him return to his former life.”

Elik sighed. What a romance! No, even better than a romance, because it had been real, and, if Luck were with them, it would have a happy ending. Ah, but maybe this was the time to ask one of the questions that he’d had for weeks. “Grisha?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever kept something from Vasya?”

Grisha nodded immediately.

“May you tell me?”

“Promise not to tell him?”

“Yes. Never.”

“I suspect he’s making wine of life with potatoes, but I don’t dare ask because he will confirm my suspicions and then…” He grinned after a small pause. “He will make me try all the drinks he makes as he tries to make whatever he is trying to make.”

It took Elik a moment to realise what Grisha meant. He laughed, because he could imagine it, and because Grisha had been right; Vasya had been trying to make wine of life out of potatoes, of all things. “Ah, yes. But… I meant something serious. Not that.”

“Wine making is a very serious thing in his family.” Grisha snorted lightly. “He may not have the name, but he is still one of them. He definitely drinks like one, has all their fucking secret recipes, and tries to make new drinks as if he were still one of them. You will see when you are back at Ivanhof and get to know them better; all the noble families have their own rituals and traditions, and his family's traditions revolve around alcohol. And war,” Grisha told him seriously. 

“I see.” His family name was the secret no one told him, but…. Oh, who was the one among the courtiers that was his relative? If he could remember that, he would finally figure out who Vasya had been. “You are prevaricating.”

He laughed. “I am.” Grisha’s expression turned serious. “You will keep this a secret,” he pleaded with him.

“I promise.”

“When we first joined the army, I was placed under the command of Colonel Mrishsnan, and Vasya under that of Colonel Matveev. My Colonel was… much as he is now,” he grinned. “A serious man who can appreciate a good joke and who thinks that, if you are going to do something, you should do it well, or not bother. He is a good commander. Vasya’s though…” He lowered his voice and looked around, even though they were completely alone in the garden, “As an army commander, he was good, but as a person, he was not. Everyone in the office told me how lucky I was that I was not under Matveev, and that…” Grisha frowned. “They told me that he liked the young men serving under him. A bit like Ivanof.”

Elik gasped. “Ivanof?”

“He was notorious for that. Everyone knew that he chose his aides based on their performance in bed, and how well they took his orders there.”

“And no one did anything about it?”

“Why? Ivanof always asked first. If a soldier told him ‘no’, he left him alone. If his soldier were ambitious, and told him ‘no’, he could always ask for a transfer. His soldiers were adults, Sire. They knew what he asked of them.” Grisha’s eyes darkened. “Not that I agree with that, but… when something like that happens with the consent of both people, how can you do anything about it?” He sighed, shaking his head with frustration. “So fucking wrong, if you ask me, but… what Matveev did was much worse.” 

“What did he do?”

“He would force himself on his soldiers. First, it would be a kiss, then a grope, and, the more they resisted him, the more he pursued them. Vasya never told me anything, but my friends, they were all certain that Matveev would try something, and I just had to accept it. His previous secretary? He’d accused Matveev of raping him, but since it was a soldier’s word against that of a Colonel, he was punished by whipping for defaming his superior, and then he killed himself. So, I went to Colonel Mrishsnan and asked him what I could do to stop Matveev. You know what he told me? That, no matter how he wanted it, he couldn’t do anything, and I’d had to go to Matveev’s superior with my accusations.”

“How? If Vasya hadn’t said anything, then you couldn’t say anything either.”

“Exactly. I couldn’t ask Cousin Mark, not after all the help he’d given us, I couldn’t kill Matveev, nor could I wait for him to hurt Vasya. So…” He paused again.

Elik leaned closer. “What did you do?”

“I wrote to his father. I wrote him that, even though I knew he hated me and thought me a monster for seducing his son, there were bigger monsters than me, monsters that would rape Vasya and then leave him no choice but to kill them and then kill himself. I begged him to do something, because I couldn’t.”

Elik shook his head. “Vasya trusts in the law. He would never kill someone, even if he were morally justified.” 

“I know now, but then, I didn’t. And, it worked. A week later, Matveev got transferred, and when His Majesty went on his campaign against Setland, he was there with him, where he died.” He grinned. “I don’t know what strings the old man pulled, but he did it.”

“Why didn’t you tell that to Vasya?”

“How? If he learned that I wrote to his father, abasing myself for his sake, he would be mad.” Grisha snorted. “He’s so full of st… nobility that he doesn’t understand that I have no shame nor pride when it comes to protecting him. We were just starting our life together. I didn’t want to start it with an argument.”

Elik sighed. “If you weren’t you, I would be so angry and envious.”

“Why?” Grisha asked him curiously. “What’s to envy about us?”

“Your love for each other.” Elik stared at him. 

“I am sorry to hear this. Would it be better if we left?” Grisha looked at him kindly. “Envy is such a negative emotion. Vasya would not want you to experience it, and neither would I. If we were not around you, then, you would feel better.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“If you are angry and envious at us, you will hate us. Sire, Vasya has already lost his first family. He has now accepted you as his brother. If he loses you because of your envy or your hatred, he will be hurt. He is still hurt over what he sees as Sasha’s betrayal and… I don’t want to see him hurt like that again, Sire.”

Elik smiled. He would never hurt Vasya like that! “I said, if you weren’t you, I’d be envious. I am not.”

“But the potential is there.” Grisha took a deep breath. “Sire, you will hate us and envy us if you keep comparing your relationship to ours.”

Grisha seemed so certain and worried, that Elik felt his chest ache. He didn’t want to make Grisha worry any more than he wanted to hurt Vasya. "I will not," he promised him. "I swear."

Grisha looked like he didn't believe him for a moment. “Each relationship is different, the same way that each person is different. With your permission, I will be as honest with you as I am with Cousin Mark, and I will be with my other brother-in-law when he comes back.”

“Yes, please.”

“If I were in a relationship with someone like your husband, I would go mad! He is restless, he likes challenges, he likes winning and…. He’s hearing without listening, and it takes him some time to understand what you tell him. And, if any of the wolf… I mean your Guards were my partner? Oh, I would have thrown myself out of a window and run away as fast as I could. They are most capable and loyal, but they are so full of energy!”

Elik laughed. Grisha was talking like an old man, when he was even younger than his wretched husband. 

“I am trying to say, each person is different, and if we are lucky, we get someone who is suitable for us. I think you and His Majesty are well-suited to each other. You are also full of energy and full of perseverance against obstacles. To His Majesty, you are a challenge, and for you, he is one as well, and… as much he frustrates you, he also makes you more determined to win him.”

Elik felt himself smile widely. That was so true! So, why couldn’t stupid Nikolaj see how right they were for each other, so they could become as harmonious in their relationship as Vasya and Grisha, but in their own way? Ah, Grisha was right: Nikolaj was bad at listening!

“So, you understand that your relationship is different than mine and Vasya’s, just because of who you are. The only thing that is common in every good relationship, is hard work.” Grisha continued. “But since each person is different, each relationship differs in the difficulties it has. Every morning, I wake up and I remind myself that I am so lucky to have Vasya, and so, I should be nicer to him. Instead, what happens? By lunch time, I have usually called him ‘stupid’ at least twice, and ‘foolish’ once. He doesn’t deserve my abuse, yet I can’t always help myself.” He sighed. “Especially since Vasya is really clever. He really is not stupid at all – although sometimes he misses the obvious because he’s so used to thinking about plots and schemes and complicated things.”

Elik frowned. Nikolaj had never called him stupid, even when he deserved it. He would never tolerate anyone who called him stupid, even he meant it in jest. But he was happy to call Nikolaj ‘stupid’ and ‘wretched’ these days. Did that mean that he was being unfair? No, Nikolaj deserved his abuse, because he really was stupid!

Grisha sighed. “And I keep pressing him to make me cakes. Did you see how tired he is?”

Elik didn’t reply, feeling a little guilty. They had been keeping Vasya up, demanding stories with songs, and that had been right after the whole mess at the Reds’ Barracks. Vasya should spend his leave sleeping, probably. 

“He looks like he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks,” Grisha sighed mournfully. “I saw it, yet what did I do? Instead of making him go to sleep, I made him make me cake and… well… do other things.” He shook his head. “I am horrible.”

“If only these were our problems,” he sighed. 

“Different people, different relationships, different problems.” He cut a piece of cake with his fingers and chewed it carefully. “Have you tried his coffee cake yet?” He asked, clearly wanting to change the subject. “No, of course, not. Come on. You must have some.” He stood up slowly. 

Elik nodded. “Thanks. What is that on the side?” There was some kind of sauce? 

“Oh, coffee sauce. It’s even more delicious than the cake.” Grisha made a low moan full of desire that made Elik blush. “It’s really good,” he continued with the same voice that should belong in the bedroom. “You really must try it. And I must have more.”

&*&*

Nikolaj sighed when he finished telling everything to Vasya. Everything! “So, what do you think?”

Vasya stared at him. 

“Vasya,” he cried, “I really need your help. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know like what. Like you are playing cards.”

Vasya smiled a little. 

“I lost him,” Nikolaj said, feeling sorrow settle in his bones. 

“No. Not yet,” Vasya told him. He looked at him seriously.

Nikolaj sighed. “I know what I’ve done, but I am not sure if I know why, and I don’t know how to fix it. I do love him,” he said very quietly, for what must have been the tenth time since Vasya came to talk to him. “Help me, please.”

“I am thinking,” Vasya replied just as quietly.

“What?”

“When one knows what one did wrong, one can take actions to fix it. When one knows why one did wrong, one can learn not to repeat it, but…. Perhaps, instead of focusing on ‘why’ right now, one should focus on the ‘what’.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Sire, earlier, you grabbed Your Most Gracious Consort of Imperial Rank and carried him like a thing. Your own One and Only! Do you know how quickly that news travelled?”

Nikolaj snorted. “The only thing that this army likes more than romance is gossip,” he smirked. 

“And do you know how fast the news travelled that His Majesty wants to have different quarters?”

Nikolaj stopped smiling. 

“Having His Majesty here gives you an advantage against your enemies, and serves as a boost to the soldiers’ moral. These advantages, however, will be lost if there is a rift between the two of you. This must be resolved by the time you face the enemy in battle, for everyone’s sake.”

Nikolaj stilled. “The army loves him,” he muttered. “Would they take arms to defend him from me, the way Ivanof did?”

Vasya frowned for a second. “Sire, I only meant that you might make wrong decisions because you will be preoccupied with the matter of Your Most Gracious Consort. Why are you bringing up the matter of the soldiers rising up in his defence?” 

“Because the soldiers love him, and you said that his presence serves to ‘boost’ their moral. Doesn’t that make sense?”

“No. The army is loyal to you and, even though they do love His Majesty either because they experienced his kindness during the previous campaign, or because they heard of it, they do understand that your relationship is a matter between the two of you. They will not interfere. Why did you bring it up?”

“I just told you.”

“Yes, but why did you think it?” 

Nikolaj stared at him and Vasya stared back, waiting for his answer. Oh, fuck, that’s what they meant by ‘you can move away from the waterfall’. “Because it makes sense.”

“It makes sense if you are afraid of him. Or you don’t trust him.” 

Nikolaj felt a chill run down his spine. “I… I am not afraid of him exactly. I am afraid of his power.” There. He had finally said it. “And, I think I know I can trust him, but…”

“You don’t,” Vasya told him very softly.

He nodded. “He’s wild and unpredictable and…” He couldn’t control him. He couldn’t say that.

“You can’t control him,” Vasya finished the sentence for him, taking the words straight out of his head. 

He nodded again. “He’s doing things I don’t expect, and wants things of me and… I don’t like following him; he should be following my lead,” he huffed. “Even this morning. Did he have to say all those things and then make me commit to a war against Francis?”

“You may not have to fight that war,” Vasya told him.

“I know, but it annoyed me.”

Vasya looked at him sadly. “You have not accepted that he is your Equal and your One and Only, have you?”

“He is.” Of course, he was. What stupidity was this? 

“If he were, you wouldn’t be expecting him to follow you. You should walk together.” Vasya stood up. “With your permission, I would like to retire now. But I have a question for you first.”

“You may ask before retiring.”

“If you will not accept him, will you at least treat him as such in front of everyone, with the respect he deserves? Treat him as if he were a foreign prince, or princess. You would never have grabbed Princess Anne of Thur-and-Foire like that.”

Nikolaj snorted. Of course, he wouldn’t have.

“Then, please, behave towards him as if he were Princess Anne from now on, and not as if he were still your war-caught bride.”

He glared at Vasya, but he could understand what he meant. He chuckled. “At least we are not in Quhjan. I can still hold his hand and kiss him in public.”

Vasya nodded, still with that serious expression.

“You look like someone died,” he told him, annoyed.

“I fear your love will die, Sire, and that makes me sad.” Vasya suddenly looked even more miserable, as if he were about to start crying even. “You’ve given up on one love because of your pride and your circumstances. You will give up on this one too?”

Nikolaj froze. Did Vasya know about him and…. He had no idea! Their little Vasya was far more observant than he’d thought. “You know I couldn’t have married him. Not a future Head of Family and a man.”

“You did marry a man, though,” he said, “And Families can manage well even without their intended Heads,” he snorted. “But he is not the issue. That’s in the past.”

Nikolaj bit his lips. Was it? Mark had called him ‘Nikolya’ and wrote that still loved him. And he loved him too, in his way. Though not in the way he loved his darling.

“It is,” Vasya continued as if he had heard him. “And that is not the issue anymore. The issue is, are you willing to change for your One and Only? If you don’t, you might as well give him a Palace now and let him establish his own Court, the way they do at Aedley. He will be the Most Gracious and Kind Consort of Imperial Rank that we ever had at Bosilke. He will not dishonour or shame you, and you may take as many pretty things as you like in your bed.” Vasya sighed. 

“How can you say that? I love him. I don’t want others in my bed.” Well… he really wouldn’t turn down any of the Special Guards that offered to share his favours with him. Maxim, especially. Someone who’d made one king want to marry him, and the Guards want to write a story about him, he would never turn down. And… if truth were to be told, he wouldn’t mind sharing his bed with Vasya and Grisha either. Ah, they were handsome together – they were so at fourteen when they first became a couple, they were even more so now. Although, they were so handsome that he would be happy just to watch those two together!

Vasya stared at him. “Your expression says otherwise,” he said in a clipped tone. 

“Oh.” He grinned. “Yes, maybe I would take others, but I still want him more than anyone else!”

“Sire,” Vasya sighed tiredly. “Want and love are not the same. And love with pride do not mix well. May I be excused now?”

“Well… why can’t I be proud? I am an emperor!”

“And he is your Equal. Your partner. Your comrade. The one who shares your burdens and who has your back. Please?”

Huffing, he made a dismissive gesture and watched Vasya leave. Yes, Elik was his darling and his sweet consort, and his equal. Why was he saying that Elik wasn’t? If Elik were not his equal, he would not be afraid of his power!

And why couldn’t he be proud? Did Vasya expect him to be like Grisha, falling to his knees and taking punishments meant for others? That was not lack of pride, that was stupidity.

Annoyed, he went to his bed, and lay down. Having Vasya listen to him had not helped at all!


	83. Chapter 83

11th evening 

Evgeni sighed. His husband did the same. “This is the longest dinner I have been to, and I have been in some really long ones,” he muttered. 

Maxim nodded. It really felt long, even though they had hurried through the courses. He looked at the high table, where Their Majesties were discussing with everyone but each other. The Young Lord should have punched his husband, he thought, grimacing in disapproval. 

“I wonder what happened between them,” Valery said. 

“Yes, when they left, I was certain that they would… please each other greatly,” Boris, one of Valery’s friends said, shaking his head slightly. 

“And that they might not even show up for dinner until it was time for dessert,” Ivan, one of Vadim’s friends told them with a sigh.

“At least they are being polite,” Evgeni said. 

“But not to each other,” Maxim replied. 

“And even the Captain and his husband seem unhappy,” Valery whispered, as if they could hear him, even though they were at the high table, and they were on one of the side tables near the wall, and at the end of that as well. 

“I wonder why they are seated by the Young Lord,” Evgeni continued.

“Yes, all these days the Maj… Colonel was to His Majesty’s right, but now he is at His Consort’s left, together with his husband,” Boris told them.

“Perhaps he has fallen out of favour,” Evgeni’s husband said very quietly.

The Mayor suddenly stood up. “You Majesties, we have prepared a little musical entertainment in your honour, and nothing would please us more than your attendance.” 

His Majesty stood up, offering his hand to their Young Lord. “Nothing would please Us more than to attend.”

“Thank you so much. Everything has been wonderful so far, and I am really looking forward to listening to your music,” the Young Lord told the man softly. 

“Then, shall we, my Husband?”

“Yes, Husband.”

They followed the Mayor into the Ball room looking ahead, like moving statues, leading the procession of their staff and the town’s most prominent citizens out of the room.

“At least they are polite,” Thomas whispered as he stood up and took Evgeni’s hand. “Tell me, how did His Majesty bring all these clothes? This is the third costume of the day,” he smiled.

Maxim laughed. “The Captain asked us to carry them.”

“We had space in our bags,” Valery smiled. 

“Ah.” Thomas looked amused. 

Maxim offered his arm to Valery, who took it with a grin. “Hey, Valya?”

“Yes, Maxim?”

“If I don’t find love, will you marry me?”

Valery snorted. “You will find love, you…” His expression softened. “And if you don’t, maybe we can live together. You’re not a bad housemate.”

“Thanks.”

“Why are you so obsessed with getting married?”

“Because life is short. Don’t you think so?”

“No, not really.” Valery pulled him close. “Love will you, so stop worrying.”

“Hm.”

The musicians had already started playing by the time they were in the room. This wasn’t that surprising, since were among the last to walk in. The moment everyone had moved from the dining room to the ball room, they started playing a slow dance, and His Majesty started dancing with the Mayor’s wife. A moment later, their Young Lord followed the Mayor to the dance floor. 

“It’s like at court,” Thomas told them. “First, they open the dance, and then we can join them from the second verse. Only… until now, the Mayor would dance the opening dance with the Colonel. I say, we may need to consider the possibility that he has fallen out of favour, and, if His Majesty is also not on good terms with his husband, then perhaps your Captain has also fallen out of favour.”

The way Evgeni glared at Thomas, made him think that was not a new argument. 

“Husband, will you dance with me?” Thomas asked Evgeni and he nodded. 

Old argument or not, it was not big enough to be a problem. 

“Do you want to dance?” Boris asked him.

“Yes, with pleasure,” he replied.

Boris grinned. “Thank you.”

“What do you think about what Thomas said? That the Colonel and our Captain have fallen out of favour?”

Boris snorted. “Longin, who was outside His Majesty’s bedroom, told us that he kept talking to ‘Vasya’. He also said that the Cook just looked tired when he left the room; he didn’t look worried.”

“And if anything had happened to make him really concerned, he’d just look calm.”

Boris nodded. 

The song ended and they bowed to each other with a smile. “I wouldn’t mind dancing the next dance with you,” Maxim smiled. 

“But then I would be disappointed,” Ivan said. “May I?”

Boris smiled and took a step back. How gallant he was. Maxim nodded and started dancing. 

Evgeni snorted behind him. “You are so wrong, Thomas,” he chuckled. 

Ivan grinned and turned, so that Maxim would turn and see what had caused Evgeni’s comment. His Majesty was dancing with the Colonel, while their Captain was dancing with Count Bitoulin, and their Young Lord was dancing with one of the Ladies of the town. 

“I guess he is not out of favour, then,” he smiled. 

“I guess not. Have you thought what you will do next?”

“We will follow His Majesty, of course. Onward and forward! All the way to Grodholm! Death to Fredrik,” he shouted. 

“Death to Fredrik,” his friends and their friends and their friends all shouted, making their musicians stop playing, and Their Majesties frown.

Maxim raised his hand. “That was me. I am sorry!” He bowed towards Their Majesties. 

The Colonel said something that made His Majesty laugh. 

“Maxim?” He asked loudly. 

“Yes, Sire.”

“Come here.”

A little apprehensive, but mostly curious, he approached. 

The Young Lord made a gesture and the music started again. Their Majesties and their Captain with his husband moved towards a smaller room to the side of the Ball room.

The moment he was in the room, the Colonel closed the door behind the five of them. 

Maxim bowed even more deeply in their presence. 

“Let me look at you,” His Majesty said as he circled him. 

The Young Lord groaned. “Seriously? You want Maxim?” 

What? He would never betray his brother! Maxim stood tall and proud in front of them. “Sire,” he said, “You may punish me for this, but I will not sleep with you even if you order me.”

“No wonder you call them ‘young wolves’,” His Majesty told the Colonel. “They are fierce and loyal to their pack.”

Maxim felt his chest swell with pride. The Colonel thought that they were like wolves? Oh, he couldn’t wait to tell his brothers. And… he noticed the Captain’s soft smile. Of course; he knew, and he approved. Oh, his brothers would be so very happy to hear this!

“Worry not,” His Majesty said. “Both of you. I do not want Maxim. He has another admirer,” he grinned. “Maxim, Our Most Fun-Loving Brother, King Hans Ulrich has asked for My Most Gracious Consort’s permission to ask for your hand in marriage.”

“Excuse me?”

“Eh?”

“What?”

They were full of disbelief. Only the Captain didn’t say a word, and looked full of thought. 

“If Our Consort permits it,” he smiled, glancing at the Young Lord, “and frees you from his service, then Our Royal Brother would like to ask you to become his common-law husband.”

“So, if His Majesty permits it, I can choose if I want to become his common-law husband?” Maxim asked, just to make sure he understood correctly.

“Yes, and I will personally grant you a title and lands here, and take care of your dowry,” His Majesty said. 

The Young Lord smiled. “If that is what you wish, to be married to Our Royal Brother, I will not stop you. You are my brother, Maxim. I want you to be happy.”

Maxim took a deep breath. “May I think about it? Such a proposal is…”

“A great honour,” His Majesty grinned.

“He is very fun-loving, but Deep Port is a beautiful city,” the Young Lord said. 

He turned to the Captain. “It is your decision,” he told him gently. “Take your time to think about it.”

He nodded. Hans Ulrich was not what he had decided he wanted, but he had slept with him. He knew he wouldn’t mind sleeping with him again. “Thank you.” With another bow, he opened the door and almost ran to his brothers, ignoring how everyone in the room looked at him curiously.

“Brothers,” Maxim gasped and they all gathered around him in a circle, “His Majesty, King Hans Ulrich wants to make him his common-law husband. What does that even mean?”

Evgeni and Valery shook their heads. “You must say ‘no’,” they both said immediately. 

“Eh? Why?” Thomas asked them.

“You did not feel offended when they introduced me as your common-law husband at King Francis’ dinner?” Evgeni asked him with a hint of anger in his voice. “I did.”

“I also did, but it will be marriage to a king!” Thomas said, looking amazed. “Do you know what that means?”

“But common-law,” Evgeni insisted. “You will never be as respected as a husband from a princely family. You will be tolerated at best, and people will whisper behind your back.”

Valery nodded. “I have no doubt that you will win everyone over because you’re you,” he smiled at him, “but… in your place? I wouldn’t accept it. I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life, than the common-law husband of a nobleman.”

Maxim turned towards Thomas. “What would it mean for me if I accepted?”

“It would mean that you would not be recognized as his official Spouse and Consort. If you were a woman, your children would be legitimate, but would have no right to the throne. He may give you a title, so that you will not be just a Gentleman of the Court, but every prince or nobleman with a rank higher than yours will have precedence over you.”

“So, basically, I will be the same as if I were a nobleman’s concubine here,” Maxim said, frowning. “That doesn’t sound like a good deal.”

“No, it doesn’t, but you will be married to a king,” Thomas said again. “You will have your own palace and carriage and barge, and servants, and when Hans Ulrich dies, he will definitely leave something for you in his will.”

Maxim grimaced. “Sometimes, I feel that marriage is a form of official prostitution. You sell your body to one man, and get back things from one man.” He grinned. “I wonder if that is why I like so much the way the Colonels started their lives; they had nothing but themselves and their will to be together. It sounds so much more honest that talks of titles and lands and dowries.”

They looked at him strangely. 

“That is such a weird thought,” Thomas said. 

“I wouldn’t mind my husband being richer than me.” Maxim laughed. “Fuck, almost everyone in this room is richer than me. But I don’t like the idea of someone asking me in marriage thinking that he can buy me just because he is richer.”

“You can’t expect kings to marry for love,” Thomas said. “At least Hans Ulrich has a reputation of being an honest man, and he would honour any promises he made to you. In your place, I would accept, instead of waiting for love.”

“But you married for love.”

“Yes, but I am no king. And if a king had asked me before I had met Genya, I would have said ‘yes’. Kings don’t marry for love, and that is fine with me.”

“Perhaps that is better. Look at this one who did,” Valery whispered, glancing at His Majesty dancing with Vasya. 

“He still treats his husband like his slave,” Boris said in an even lower tone. “A slave he loves, but a slave nonetheless.”

“Yes, carrying him around like that,” Ivan huffed.

“I bet the Colonel could carry the Captain like that, and you wouldn’t mind,” Maxim said. 

“No, because the Colonel treats the Captain as his partner. His Majesty….” Valery shook his head. “Even at Sorain, how could he ask him to undress himself like that in front of everyone, when it was not the Winter Solstice?”

“The Young Lord didn’t mind.”

“The Young Lord is a foreigner full of love, how could you expect him to know how wrong His Majesty was?”

Maxim sighed. “I think everyone should have the right to undress their partners in public if they wish. Not just during Winter Solstice.”

“When everyone does it, then it will be fine. For now, it was wrong.”

“What was wrong?” the Captain asked them.

They parted, biting back shrieks. How could he be so fucking sneaky? He was not a short man, and he wore boots that made a noise on the wooden floor as he walked! How?

“Maxim, would you do me the honour of this dance?” he asked him.

“The Colonel won’t mind?”

“No.” 

Maxim nodded, smiling. “I suppose you want to talk to me?” he asked as the Captain led him to the dance area in the middle of the room.

“Yes,” he said as they started dancing a slow dance for couples only. “About Hans Ulrich’s proposal.”

“It is tempting,” Maxim said as they started dancing. 

“Yes, you would lack for nothing, and he would treasure you. You made quite an impression on him,” he chuckled. 

“I guess so,” Maxim laughed. 

“If that is what you want, you should do it. But do you want it?”

“Thomas thinks I should accept. Evgeni and Valery think I will be tolerated at court, and my life will be miserable.”

“And what do you think?”

“Honestly? I am offended that he did not ask me directly. I am not a thing to be passed between Their Majesties. And I don’t like that he is so … business-like about it. I’m not a thing to be bought either.”

The Captain smiled at him. “Marriages often seem like veiled prostitution, don’t they? I admire that he is honest about it, but … in your place, I wouldn’t accept his proposal.”

“Because you believe in love?”

“Yes, and no. I wouldn’t sell myself at such low a price. Common-law husband?” He snorted. “I’d rather be either free or a poor man’s partner, than a rich man’s concubine. I deserve better. Relationships should be built on equality. And,” he smiled. “When you can choose freely, then you should choose what you wish, not what others dictate.”

Maxim grinned. 

“That said, I know that it is a very tempting offer, and he’s not a bad person, no matter how crude he appears. He would make everything in his power to make you happy, and a king’s resources are much more than what anyone else would offer you. Clothes, houses, carriages, men, he would give them all to you.”

“But you would still reject him if you were in my place.”

“Yes, but we are not the same, and I am not in your place.” He grinned. “When I gamble, I go for all or nothing, Maxim. And love too is a gamble, in my opinion.”

The song ended. “I will think about it,” Maxim smiled as he bowed slightly and went to join his brothers. He’d think about it in the evening, and give his answer in the morning.

“He wanted to tell me to think about Hans Ulrich’s proposal carefully,” he smiled at them, “And I will. If I said ‘yes’, I could have my own palace!”

Thomas nodded.

“You would be an unofficial spouse,” Evgeni reminded him.

“I know. And… I don’t think he loves me. Shouldn’t my husband love me?”

Valery hugged hm and tickled him. “Oh, Maxim,” he said, grinning. “How can anyone not love you?”

“You don’t.”

“I do. As your brother.”

Maxim snorted. Yes, he’d wait until the morning to give his answer, but he already knew what it would be. Palaces were good and money was better, but he’d rather have someone who loved him and they could deal with life’s difficulties together, instead of a king who’d see him as a concubine.

The musicians did not start another song. Curious, they all turned towards Their Majesties. 

“It is late, and the Youth of Jedlowa should go to bed,” he grinned. “They will have a long journey ahead of them tomorrow.”

Her Excellency glared at him, and turned to her brother, whispering something. 

The Young Lord seemed a little frustrated. He whispered something back, and she replied. He answered her in the same quiet tone. 

His Majesty shook his head, whispering something to Grisha and Vasya that made them glare at him. 

“That is rude,” Evgeni smiled and whispered at them.

“I know,” Maxim laughed. “I wonder what she’s saying.”

“Probably she wants a story,” Valery said.

Maxim agreed with that. “I wouldn’t mind a story either.”

Evgeni smiled. “What a strange little habit you have started having. I wonder if it will become a thing when we are back at the Capital.”

The Young Lord sighed loudly. “My Husband,” he said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Youth of Jedlowa would like to request something before retiring.”

“Yes?” 

“Your Majesty,” Her Excellency addressed him, “May we have a story from our Teacher? We have learned so much from him, and since we will be parted for the longest time, we would like one more story tonight.”

“Or two,” one of the younger boys said. “Maybe one with battles?”

“And romance,” Her Excellency’s Official Friend smiled. “Please?”

“Please, Your Majesty?” they all said.

Maxim tried not to laugh at how cute they all sounded and looked. How their sweet pleas hid how they probably planned to restructure Quhjan once they came to power. Oh, how he hoped that age would not change them, and make them as traditional and rigid as their parents. 

His Majesty frowned. “I don’t mind, if your Teacher doesn’t mind. Really, why do you call Vasya your Teacher?”

“Because he is, Sire,” Her Excellency said before turning towards the Captain. “Please?”

Her Official Friend also nodded. “Please, Colonel Vasily?”

She really was impossibly cute! Maxim wanted to pinch her cheeks!

The Captain turned towards the Colonel. “Would that be alright with you, Grisha?”

The Youth of Jedlowa stared at them adoringly, and sighed. 

The Colonel laughed. “Yes. May I listen too?” 

“I want to hear the story too,” Maxim shouted. 

“May we join you?”

The Captain nodded. “With your permission, I would like to use the dining room to tell the story so as not to disturb you. May I?”

His Majesty nodded. 

He bowed and started walking back to the other room, the Youth of Jedlowa following him, and the Young Lord at the end of their procession.

“Where are you going, Husband?”

“I wouldn’t miss a story by Colonel Vasily for the world. I will see you all soon,” he said, smiling at them pleasantly. 

His Majesty followed him, and so did everyone else. 

“I think it might become a thing here before it becomes one at the Barracks,” Maxim grinned as he too went back to the dining room. 

Vadim and Valery laughed. 

“I hope he tells a good story, one with a happy ending,” Boris said. “Sometimes, he would say the most dreadful things at the trips.”

Ivan nodded. 

“So, story time with the Colonel is a thing already?” Maxim asked. 

“With both. The Captain tells the best war stories!”

“And the Cook the best stories,” Ivan grinned. “Let’s find our seats and hope he will not choose a sad one.”

“It seems like everyone wants a story before bedtime,” His Majesty laughed as he sat down. “Do tell us a good one, Vasya.”

The Captain looked at them all. “I will try, Sire.” He turned towards Her Excellency. “May I choose the story tonight?”

She and her friends shared a look and they all nodded. 

“Thank you. This is a story told to us from an ancient Yeleni author. It is the story of king Ayases, who lived in the rich and fertile land of Lyrisa. His kingdom was large, with high mountains at the west and the sea at the east, a sea that was navigable all year-round and never froze. They had peaches in the summer and oranges in the winter, and gold and silver were plentiful.”

What a beautiful land that must have been.

“That’s how the south is,” Thomas sighed with longing. “I miss peaches,” he sighed again. 

Maxim couldn’t blame him. He’d never had peaches; they were too expensive and rare for the likes of him, and when they were at Sorain, they were not in season yet. Ah, if only they could have stayed for two more weeks, so they could have tried peaches!

“The people lacked for nothing, and it was their custom that men could marry several women, if they had the means to support them. It was also their custom that women lived separately from men, and only their fathers, husbands, or sons could visit them. In fact, they held it so shameful for a woman to be seen by a man who was not a relative, that even when they left the house, they were veiled. Not like in some parts of Bosilke, where married women wear a veil over their heads, no! They wore veils that covered their whole faces and bodies, leaving only their eyes open.”

“How oppressive,” cried Her Excellency.

“It was a different society, my Lady,” he told her. “Those were their customs. If you were to meet a woman from such a society today, would you tell her she’s oppressed?”

“Yes,” she said fiercely.

“So, you wouldn’t respect her customs and way of life?”

Her Excellency fell quiet and looked chastised. 

“Perhaps you can write to me your thoughts on the matter when you are back at Jedlowa,” he smiled at them. “King Ayases, being a king,” he continued with the story, “had several wives, but one of them was so beautiful that he felt his heart burn with desire and his limbs grow weak with passion every time he saw her. He felt dizzy and pale in her presence, and in her kiss, he felt his strength restored.”

Ivan sighed. “I know how that feels.”

“That’s love,” someone sighed in front of them.

“His love was such that he neglected all the other women in his palace, and he couldn’t stop telling everyone how lucky he was that he had such a wonderfully beautiful wife. One day, as he spoke at a banquet over his favourite subject, the beauty of his darling, he noticed that one of his bodyguards seemed like he didn’t believe him.

“King Ayases was offended. ‘You don’t think my wife is as beautiful as I say she is?’” Vasya told them, sounding offended. “‘Sire, if you say it, she must be,’” he said in an apologetic manner. “You clearly don’t believe me,’” he continued, shifting again to an angry tone. “’I do’, his bodyguard insisted, not knowing how to make his king believe him.”

Boris gasped. “It will not be a good story,” he whispered.

“Quiet,” Evgeni chastised them.

“The king, offended and not believing that his bodyguard agreed with him, said, ‘It is the way of men to believe not what they hear, but what they see. Therefore, I will make it so that you will see her for yourself, and so wisely agree with me that she is the most perfect and beautiful wife of them all. Despite the man’s protests, he led him into his bedroom and hid him behind a screen. Then, he called his wife and soon she appeared. ‘My love,’ he told her, ‘at the banquet tonight, I could not stop thinking of you. Please, take off your clothes and share my bed,’ he told her sweetly and she obeyed.

“Truth be told, she was used to her lord calling her to his bedroom at all times, but this time, she noticed that her Lord kept glancing not at her, but at the screen behind her, and so she became suspicious. However, what her Lord wanted, she would do, for she was obedient to her husband, and showed no alarm even when she heard someone shift and move behind the screen. No, she disrobed as he had commanded her and then … she did with him what married couples do.”

“All the stories are censored,” Valery grinned. 

“Damn,” laughed Ivan.

“The next morning, though, king Ayases’ favourite wife sent her servants to find which one of the men at the banquet had left the room together with her husband, and soon they brough Ayases’ bodyguard in front of her. ‘Last night, you saw me naked,’ she told him calmly. ‘You offended me as no man has ever offended a married woman, one that belongs to a king. Therefore, you have two choices. Either you will submit yourself to punishment for your crime, here, in front of me,’ she said and pointed at one of her guards, ‘Or you will kill Ayases and become my husband.’”

His Majesty gasped. “What kind of a story is this?”

“A story about pride, Sire. When a king puts his own pride before love for his wife, the consequences may be dire. And when an offended woman puts her pride before love for her husband, then she will stop at nothing to avenge the insult done to her.”

“So, what happened?” Major Kamenski asked him. 

“What do you think?” The Captain snorted. “Human nature being what it is, the bodyguard chose to save himself. He killed his king and married his wife, of course, and became king in his place.”

“What would a loving wife do?” Her Excellency asked him. 

“Punish the bodyguard for his offence, and ask her husband never to insult her like that again.” The Captain smiled. “Or, so I think.”

“And a loving husband?” Her official friend asked. 

“He would never have insulted his wife by exposing her to the eyes of a stranger, against their land’s customs and traditions. He would have respected her.”

“We do not like this story,” His Majesty said. “Tell Us another.”

The Captain smiled pleasantly. “As you wish,” he said very calmly. 

“Fuck, he just made the Cook mad,” Boris muttered.

Valery and Ivan nodded. Maxim saw Andrik share a look with His Majesty’s Guards. Oh, they too knew what the Captain looked like when he was angry. 

“This is a story that was made popular by a writer who lived at Aedley when Ivan III ruled Bosilke, so it may well be known to you. I admit, I have not seen nor read the play that he wrote, but I have read the Chronicles of the Kingdom of the Three Seas, where the story first appears, so I hope that you will indulge me.”

“Your Captain would make a great courtier,” Thomas smiled. “Now I see why you admire him so,” he told Evgeni. 

“I admire him because of his skills.”

“So do I,” Thomas laughed. 

“Be quiet,” Maxim hissed. 

“According to the Chronicles, Captain Pietro de Livoni lived at the time of our Emperor Ivan I, and was a commander most skilled in the art of naval warfare. He won the victory at the bay of Skinto, and distinguished himself greatly at the sea battle of Trogosa, where the combined naval forces of the Kingdom of the Three Seas and Aedley destroyed the forces of Khan Soliman. Even though he was not a handsome man, but full of battle-scars, fame of his bravery was such that when he returned to the Kingdom of the Three Seas, one of the most noble Ladies of the court, Lady Isabella Veramin fell in love with him and asked to marry him.

“At first, the marriage was a happy one, but soon it turned sour. Pietro de Livoni was twice as old as his young bride, and a man most jealous. Women at the Kingdom of the Three Seas show that they are married by wearing a veil that covers their face, and use this marker of their dignity to go freely out in the city, visiting friends and relatives. Pietro de Livoni, however, so disliked the idea of his wife going out to her friends, that he asked to be posted at the island of Zipren. His wish was granted.

“There, they lived at the castle of Kernya and, at first, with his wife away from her friends and family, Pietro felt secure that he was wife was devoted to him. What he did not think, however, was that the castle would be full of young officers, all closer in age to his lovely wife. His jealousy wouldn’t let him rest. Even though his wife did nothing to incite men’s desire, he saw betrayal where there was none, and thought his wife’s natural kindness towards others as flirtatiousness. Soon after they moved there, he started beating her cruelly both at home and in public whenever he thought she looked at other men.”

“That is such a miserable story,” the Young Lord sighed in the silence that followed his words. 

“And it gets worse,” the Captain continued. “One day, driven by jealousy when he caught her exchanging words with a young Ensign, Pietro de Livoni contrived to have him invited to their house for dinner. There, he stabbed him with his sword, and beat her to death. He was arrested, tried, and convicted by murder. Only, there was so much evidence of his wife’s innocence at the trial that he finally understood what he had done, and how he had let his passions guide his actions that he hanged himself before he was executed.” The Captain gave them a sad smile. “And since you all like stories with songs so much, don’t you think this is what that poor man must have thought before killing himself?”

He stood up. “Goodbye, my love,” he started singing, his voice filling the space. “Now we must part, luck has decreed it, and all that is left is memories. How restless are my nights. How my joy was in your smile, yet how did I not see it. You fly away, my love, where I cannot follow. That summer that our hearts were joined, how quickly did it pass; how soon the winter came, how long it lasts.”

Maxim shivered. He’d never heard this song like that before, like the singer was crying his song. He’d never heard the Captain sing like that before either, so effortlessly reaching for the high notes and letting his voice drop to a whisper just as easily right afterwards. Everyone was so very quiet, so he decided to share his thoughts later. The Captain was wasted in the army. He should be in the Choir, permanently. 

The Young Lord wiped his eyes with the back of his palms, and sniffled a little. He was not the only one. 

His Majesty looked stern. “That was a miserable story,” he said with disapproval. 

“It is a story about foolishness and pride and regret. Pietro had so much evidence of his wife’s innocence, yet he trusted not in what he saw and heard, but preferred his own twisted, angry emotions. One wonders, how often must his wife have protested her innocence while he was beating her that even the dry Chronicles mentioned it? Ah, it is so sad that he couldn’t listen,” he sighed. “Love is a miracle; when we are blessed with it, we must protect it, and cherish it, and not ruin it.” He sat down, took the Colonel’s hand, and kissed his fingertips. “And we only have one chance at it, and one life. We must be kind and full of love, for no one knows when the winter will come.”

Her Excellency and her friends were the first to sigh, but then everyone else did. 

“It is also a story about power. Pietro was stronger than his wife, and instead of using his strength to protect her and help her walk beside him, he beat her. When you are stronger, you should never use your strength like that. When you have a sharp tongue, you should hold back your words even more carefully than others. Miserable stories are good for teaching us what not to do. And Nisar stories are full of jealous men killing their wives,” he frowned, sighing. 

“I think it is a story about trust,” the Colonel said. “If only Pietro had trusted in his wife and believed in her love for him, he wouldn’t have killed her nor himself.”

Her Excellency nodded. “He must have been such a fool, not to listen to his wife. If I didn’t trust my partner, I would separate from them, rather than torture them with my jealousy.”

“And what if you loved your partner so much, you couldn’t separate from them?” the Captain asked her. 

“Then I would listen to them, and…” She grinned. “I’d have them followed and found out for myself. If they were true to me, then I would force myself to stop being jealous.”

Her Official Friend nodded. “I would ask them directly, and trust in my heart. If I loved my partner that much, then my heart would know if they were true to me.”

The Captain sighed at her words. “Ah, youth, isn’t it pure and innocent and truthful?”

“And you, what would you do?” the Young Lord asked.

“I would never let jealousy or fear or any other ugly and negative emotion poison my love to that extent.” He glanced at the Colonel. “No, I would ask and trust that my partner would be honest with me.”

The Colonel grinned. “You’re so lucky you are with me, and not with a lying liar who lies. You would believe them, you…” He clearly stopped before calling the Captain a ‘fool’.

“I’d rather believe them and be at peace, than suffer needless worry and anguish such as that caused by jealousy. Besides,” he grinned back, “why would anyone lie to me, when they know that I can accept their truth?”

“Is that so easy, to accept someone else’s truth?” His Majesty asked. 

“No, but it is worth the effort.”

One of Her Excellency’s friends yawned loudly. “I’m sorry, it is late.”

“It is time for us to retire, then,” Her Excellency’s Official Friend said. 

“And then we can dance,” the Young Lord said.

“Yes,” smiled the Colonel. “You did promise me the next dance, Siuta.”

Her Excellency and her friends all smiled. “We will stay for a few more minutes!”

Maxim tried hard not to laugh. They probably wanted to see the Colonels dance so they could write a story about it! He didn’t blame them. So did he! 

&*&*

“Ah, that sweet night,” the Captain sang.

Evgeni leaned next to the window, closing his eyes for a moment. It was such a shame he was not a real member of the choir. What a baritone he was! And no doubt, he was singing to his husband. Ah!

“Why don’t you join him?” Thomas said from the bed. “I don’t think he would mind. You are a choir, are you not?”

Evgeni grinned. “Honey sweet,” he sang loudly, joining his voice to the Captain’s.

“Full of scents and passion,” he heard the Young Lord together with Jan and Andrik.

“The darkness hid us,” Carel, Maxim and Valery joined in. 

“And no one knew our love,” they all sang.

Thomas walked up to him and hugged him as he started singing the second verse, and they could hear more and more men join in their song. 

“No one will believe this even though I will write it,” Thomas smiled against his neck. “This army truly marches on romance!”

&*&*

Nikolaj closed his eyes as he leaned against the window and heard ‘Ah, That Sweet Night’ reverberating across the town. Truly, anyone who knew the song, was singing it! How beautiful the sound was in the stillness of the night. 

As the song ended, there were cheers and whistles, and loud laughter. 

“Do you know this one?” He heard his darling shout from across the street when they had quieted down. “At the threshing floor,” he started.

“At the threshing floor,” Vasya and the Guards sang from two floors above his room. 

“Where the girls dance,” the rest of his army joined in. 

Nikolaj smiled. Even though they were half-way through Oerestand, since they had encountered no resistance, the men still sounded as if they were in the beginning of the campaign, singing happily and laughing with abandon. 

Ah, only he was confused! And damned Vasya for insisting that he would lose his love if he didn’t change. Change and do what? At least he tried to follow his advice about treating Elik as if he were a foreign princess. He’d barely touched his hand, and he hadn’t even kissed him. 

Ah, his darling’s sweet, sweet kisses. What if he didn’t manage to fix what he had done? No other lover would be as suitable for him as Elik was, he knew it. And no Guard would probably ever share his bed; not when they were so devoted to his darling and his darling called them ‘brothers’.

And what horrid stories Vasya had told him, trying to make him see what a loving husband he had, and how he had to change his behaviour towards him. He couldn’t wait for the next day to come. He still had so many things to talk about with Vasya and his darling!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nikolaj continues being stupid :(
> 
> Also, Vasya totally says the stories of Candaules and Othello. :) and discusses love. It's Valentine's day, I guess.... LOL


	84. Chapter 84

12th 

Elik hugged his sister tightly. “You will write as soon as you are home, you hear me?”

She smiled. “Yes, Eli. You worry so much, Brother. Our men will make sure we will all go home safe.”

Elik nodded at Majors Ustankov and Trekorov. “You are my only sister, and the future of Jedlowa. Who will continue the Alexandrov line but you? Who will be our first Woman Elder? Of course, I am worried.”

Irina squeezed him. “Eli, you mean it? You want me to be in the Council?”

“Yes, since I am never there.” He smiled. “As I was Regent, you will be my representative when you become an adult.” He gave her a sealed scroll.

“But that doesn’t mean I will have my own seat.”

“No, but when you are there, you may persuade others to enlarge the council. If it had twenty-four members, then Milka or Olga, or both, could sit next to their brother, or even in his place. One step at the time, Irina,” he smiled at her. “Change must start somewhere.”

Irina nodded. “I understand. Change will start! You watch us, Brother! And the moment we go home, we will write a really great educational story about the equality of men and women!” She suddenly blushed. “Erm…” 

“Will it also be a romance?” he smiled. “I hope so! I love romances,” he told her brightly. 

“Maybe?” She smiled back. “It will have Teacher Vasily teaching everyone why men and women must be equal, and that whoever is strong, must use their strength for protecting others and helping them fulfil their destiny.”

“Will you share it with me?”

She looked where her friend was talking to Vasya and Grisha. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“And, Eli?”

“Yes, Irina?”

“If your husband continues being stupid, you know where your home is,” she whispered.

“I do,” he smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “Have a safe trip, my Sister.”

“You too, Brother.”

He watched as they all mounted their horses and headed towards Jedlowa, singing _Out from the wheat field, we go,_ , as if they were going to war. He grinned. In a way, they were! They were going to fight all the old men of the Council for their future! Oh, how wonderful they were! 

“Do you wish you were with them, Sire?” Maxim asked him softly.

“No. My home is where my husband is. Or… Ivanhof,” he grinned. “Can you please ask Vasya and Grisha to join me as we travel? We can play cards!”

With a nod, Maxim ran towards them. When he came back, they followed him. 

“Your Majesty, it is a most flattering request,” said Grisha, “but….”

“What?”

“I need a lot of space, and wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” he continued. 

“Nonsense. I would like nothing more than to share my carriage with you. Please?”

They shared a look. 

“Sire, we may be a little… inappropriate,” Vasya told him. 

“Nonsense,” he insisted. “Come in.”

With a sigh, they followed him inside, Vasya sitting at the very end of the seat as Grisha lay on his stomach across the seat, and hugged Vasya. “Inappropriate,” Grisha said miserably, “but it hurts less like that and,” he smiled a little, “I like my comforts.”

Vasya caressed the top of his head, looking miserable. The moment Grisha turned his head towards him, Vasya smiled brightly. “Hey.”

“Hey to you.”

Ah, how he wished he were as strong as Vasya someday! 

His husband suddenly looked at him from outside the carriage. “What are you all doing there?”

“Talking.”

“May I join you?”

Elik nodded reluctantly. Nikolaj looked like he hadn’t slept all night. He couldn’t be mean to him. 

“We will take the coastal route from today so we can see King Hans Ulrich’s ships and salute them! It will be so exciting!” He said as he settled next to Elik. 

“A cannon salute?” Vasya asked with obvious enthusiasm.

“Yes, a cannon salute.”

“Oh, that will be wonderful.”

Despite himself, Elik grinned. “I can’t wait!”

“I hope we will have no resistance today,” Nikolaj said. “I grew used to it. It makes for a nice change to be welcomed as an ally.”

Their carriage started moving slowly as the men started singing ‘Under One Banner’. Elik hummed it with them. 

Vasya continued caressing Grisha’s hair, smiling at him. 

Nikolaj sighed. “I am really sorry, Grisha,” he said. 

“Not again,” Grisha moaned. “I know you are. I accepted your apology. What is the point of this?”

Elik was surprised to hear Grisha address his husband so informally, almost as surprised as he had been to see them dance together the night before. They were a handsome couple, he found himself thinking, and they definitely were more at ease with each other despite what his stupid husband had done, than Elik was with Nikolaj. If it were anyone else, he would be worried. 

“I can’t help it.”

“Find something else to worry about,” Grisha told him tersely.

“You really should know better than to address your Emperor like this,” Nikolaj smirked.

Grisha huffed. “I am giving useful advice to my Emperor. If he does not listen, why should I be the one admonished?”

Nikolaj started laughing. “Don’t ever change,” he said loudly. 

“If I need to change, I will change,” Grisha told him. He started sitting up and Vasya immediately helped him. “I want to try something else,” he said as he hugged Vasya and leaned against him. 

“Is that better?” Vasya asked immediately with concern.

“Yes, can you put your arm behind me so it will stop my back from touching the back of the seat?”

“Wait.” He maneuvered his arm per Grisha’s instructions. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Elik sighed. How perfectly they worked together. He noticed that Nikolaj also looked at them with a soft expression. He suddenly hit him on the arm lightly. “Why can’t we be One Mind in Two Bodies?” 

“Excuse me?”

He nodded towards Vasya and Grisha, who both looked embarrassed to be described like that and stared awkwardly away from them.

“What’s holding you back?” Elik said as he turned so he could study Nikolaj better. “I have been trying and trying and trying so hard to be what you want me to be, yet you… argh!”

“Brother, finish your sentence,” Vasya whispered encouragingly. 

He decided to trust in Vasya. His brother knew everything, after all, and he was his good witch! “You even take my pleas as orders. Why can’t you see that I love you?” He grabbed Nikolaj’s hand. “Husband. I am not going to be like Ayases’ wife, no matter how much you insult me, but I don’t want to be like poor Isabella either, waiting for you to kill me with your words or lack of action. So, why do you treat me as if I were…”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vasya and Grisha both nodding. 

“You treat me like an enemy, my Heart.”

“Sire, answer him,” Vasya told him. “Please?”

“I don’t know,” Nikolaj replied.

They all groaned. 

“Maybe we should stop and go to our carriage,” Grisha murmured, sounding frustrated.

“No, no, stay,” he and Nikolaj told them at the same time. 

Vasya sighed. Grisha shook his head. “If we stay, will you listen to our advice?”

Elik nodded first, Nikolaj mimicked him a little more reluctantly a moment later. 

“Then, please, answer the question. Why do you treat your One and Only like that? Tell him,” Vasya said, sounding like he knew his husband’s answer already.

Nikolaj bit his lips for a moment. “Because, Elik, the people and the army love you. You scare me.”

“Me?”

“I,” Grisha said without thinking, and Vasya hit him on the arm. 

“I?” Elik corrected his mistake. 

“You. After what happened with Ivanof, I thought that if I made you my equal and protected you, I would be safe from anyone who tried to use you against me, but now I see that you yourself could be against me and…”

Vasya looked at him as if to say ‘finish your sentence’. 

“And… I wrote it to you, my Elik. Queens have power on their own.”

Elik shook his head. “All my power derives from you, and reflects your power. If you were to strip me of my title and send me to exile, no one would lift a finger to fight for me. Am I right?” he turned to look at Vasya and Grisha.

Vasya smiled. “The Guards might follow you wherever you went.”

“And maybe their Captain?” Nikolaj asked curiously. 

“Their Captain only has one Emperor. I might request leave to make sure my brother is safe, but… My loyalty is to my Empire. I would never abandon my duty, and if I had to choose between my family and my Lord…” He looked at them seriously. “I would rather die than make such a choice.”

“Stupid, noble idiot,” Grisha muttered, huffing. 

Elik decided not to say that he understood exactly how Vasya felt, and he too knew that between two such impossible choices, the only decent thing to do was dying. He turned towards his husband again. “See? If my own brother will not fight to put me back in power, how do you think anyone else will? As for those who would use me against you? I would choose death before falling to their hands and letting them do that.”

Nikolaj glanced at Grisha. “Stupid, noble idiot,” he smiled. 

Grisha nodded, while he and Vasya looked affronted. 

“That is not the issue,” Vasya said. “The issue is, will you trust your husband?”

“I want to…”

Elik hit him again.

“Rude,” Vasya hissed. “Apologize.”

“I’m sorry,” he huffed.

“You can do better,” Vasya smiled at him. “Violence should not be one of the foundations of a relationship.”

“Unless everyone consents to it,” Nikolaj smirked. 

Vasya and Grisha stared at them. “Are you into whips and ropes and dominance? Then you must establish parameters for when you use violence, and not use it whenever you want. That is not right,” Vasya said in an earnest manner, and sounding like a teacher. 

Elik felt his cheeks grow warm. “I am not.” He glanced at Nikolaj. “Are you?”

“No,” he said, surprised.

Hm, although the idea of Nikolaj in ropes sounded intriguing. It was one of the things he had been wanting to explore, if his husband let him, but up to that point, they had only tried it twice, and not with ropes but rather…

Vasya coughed. “If you are not, then apologize for hitting your husband. And if you are, then you really need to talk about … that,” he flushed. “Or, you know…” he mumbled, “talk to someone who can help with that.”

“He means Cousin Mark,” Grisha smiled. “He can help with that!”

Vasya sighed. “That is not the issue,” he said, truly sounding like a teacher dealing with naughty school children. “The issue is that you must both apologize to each other.”

Elik smiled at how awkward and frustrated at the same time Vasya looked. “I’m sorry,” he said again, a little more earnestly. 

Nikolaj huffed. “Why am I apologizing?”

“Firstly, because you called your husband ‘stupid and idiot’, and secondly because you don’t want to trust him.”

“Fine, I am sorry,” Nikolaj said, smiling and looking resigned. “Now what?”

“Now, you will write fifty times every morning and fifty every evening that you will trust your husband because he’s your One and Only and Your Equal, and you will treat him like that,” Grisha told him seriously. 

“Excuse me?”

“You must learn how to trust him. Grisha is right; in order for your heart to believe what you know, you must write that every morning, together with a list of why you must trust him.”

“Because he’s my One and Only?”

“Because he will never betray you, and he loves you more than himself.”

Elik nodded. “He really knows everything,” he whispered to Nikolaj. “I do love you, My Heart.”

“I know you do. And I love you too.”

“And you will learn to trust me?”

Nikolaj nodded slowly. “I will try my best.”

“Thank you.” He took out his notebook. “Here, you can start on your homework now, so you can trust me sooner,” he smiled. 

Nikolaj looked at him like he couldn’t believe he was real. “Wait,” he suddenly said loudly, turning towards Vasya, “Grisha called you ‘stupid and idiot’, why don’t you make him apologize?”

Vasya grinned. “Because Grisha says it as an endearment. I think.”

Grisha looked at him with love. “Of course, I do, you fu…. But it’s still rude. I’m sorry, Siuta.”

“Apology accepted, Grishka.”

Elik sighed. They were behaving like newlyweds even after being married for fourteen years! 

“It’s tough trying to live up to that standard,” Nikolaj whispered to him. 

“Yes, but we don’t have to. We just need to create our own standard.”

Nikolaj stared at him, his eyes slowly darkening. “Darling,” he said in a husky voice as he put his hand on Elik’s thigh. “I have missed you.”

His flesh burned under Nikolaj’s fingers. “I missed you too, my Nikolaj,” Elik shivered. 

Vasya hit the carriage door and Mir approached them a moment later. “We are stopping, now.”

Nikolaj made a dismissive gesture. 

The moment the carriage stopped and Mir opened the door, Vasya jumped out, and helped Grisha out too. 

Elik waved at them absent-mindedly. He felt he could drown in Nikolaj’s dark eyes. “My Sun, how can you not believe me? I will wither without you, like a flower in the shade.”

Nikolaj shook his head. “I … I know, but can we not talk about it now? It’s been months since you last called me your Sun. Am I really still your Sun?”

“Yes, My Love, My Heart, My Nikolaj, My Sun.” 

Nikolaj smiled at him. “My Love, My Heart, My Elik, My Moon,” he whispered as he trailed his hand slowly up Elik’s thigh. 

Elik leaned closer and their lips touched. He closed his eyes, and opened his mouth a little, feeling Nikolaj’s lips move and part for him. Oh, how he had missed him. Moaning, he reached for Nikolaj, both hands busy trying to undo Nikolaj’s breeches as he demanded Nikolaj open his mouth properly so he could taste him better. Oh, how he had missed him. How sweet Nikolaj tasted, honey sweet, more intoxicating than wine. 

Nikolaj’s fingers were faster and defter than his, as Nikolaj’s warm hand suddenly slipped inside his undergarments and touched his burning flesh, hand closing in a fist. He shuddered, letting Nikolaj caress him for a few moments, before resuming his efforts to get to Nikolaj’s dick that was lengthening eagerly under his fingers. 

When he finally had Nikolaj in his hands, he groaned deep in his throat and started stroking him faster and faster, as if he wanted to make him finish first. Happily, he surrendered to his touches, and let the desire inside him built as his own caresses became erratic. He felt as if he hadn’t touched Nikolaj in years, and he wanted to discover his flesh again, his hot, pulsing flesh that pleased him so.

He broke the kiss. “My Husband,” he gasped, “faster!”

Nikolaj obliged him. His left hand closed over Elik’s and together they caressed him, while Nikolaj’s own touches became as fast as the beating wings of a bird, making him burn, and burn, and burn. “Husband,” he shouted as he came with his whole body shuddering with pleasure and his mind sliding into a tranquil sea, where there was nothing but satisfaction. 

A moment later, he felt Nikolaj’s cock pulse in his hand, and hot semen fell on his fingers. He laughed with delight. “How I have missed you,” he said, nuzzling Nikolaj’s chest.

“I have missed you too, darling,” he whispered, his happiness obvious in his tone. 

Elik felt Nikolaj wiping them both clean, and he smiled. “I don’t want to move.”

“Then, don’t. Let’s sleep a little, love. I hardly slept all night yesterday, after those horrid stories Vasya told me.”

Elik smirked. His brother had chosen them well, he’d thought. “And did you learn anything from them?”

“Yes, or I wouldn’t be trying to change. I love you, Elik. Even when I am being stubborn, I love you.”

That was not the adjective Elik would have used, but he let it slide. Satisfied in body, if not completely in spirit, he let himself fall into a light nap in his husband’s arms. 

When he woke up, he saw Nikolaj still sleeping. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. How peaceful he felt.

“Darling?” Nikolaj suddenly asked him.

He opened his eyes and saw his husband smiling at him. He smiled back. “Yes, My Love?” 

“Why does Lady Irina and her friends call Vasya ‘Teacher’? And why do you call him ‘Brother’ and he calls you ‘family’? Will you explain these to me?”

“Oh, yes!” He would explain everything! From his sister’s romances, to Vasya’s letters, to how he had made him his blood-brother! 

Nikolaj listened to him, his expression revealing his amusement and how it shifted to disbelief, and how it turned back to enjoyment. “You have been busy,” he smiled at the end. 

Elik nodded. 

“But, Darling, you can’t give someone Honoured Ancestors like that. It just doesn’t work.”

“It does. Vasya asked them to bring Grisha to him as he were, and they did.”

Nikolaj smiled. “Well…. What if we test it again? I think that, despite what he claims, Vasya still wants to belong to his family. Honoured Ancestors,” he said loudly, “If Vasya is now my brother-in-law, and a member of Our Family, grant him his wish to become a Stanjinski again. He misses his home,” he said a little softly. 

“Will that work? Don’t you need to be at the Shrine to ask them?”

Nikolaj snorted. “If you can make Vasya your brother, and it works, then I can ask them anywhere. Doesn’t that make sense?”

Elik nodded. So, Vasya was a Stanjinski. Hm, what did he know about that familly?

Nikolaj laughed, distracting him. “Now that he’s my brother-in-law, it means we can’t ask them to join us in bed?”

“Nikolaj,” Elik shouted at him. “How! How can you even say that?”

“It’s a joke!”

“Husband, it’s a bad joke!” 

“Fine, it is, but… admit it, you wouldn’t mind sleeping with them.”

Elik hit him. “Sorry, but I am not sorry for hitting you,” he told him. “I don’t want to sleep with anyone but you.” He nuzzled Nikolaj. Vasya was his brother; how could he even suggest that? Although… Vasya and Grisha really looked so loving and tender when they kissed. He really liked watch….

A loud bang interrupted his thoughts. “What was that?”

Mir appeared by their side. “His Majesty’s ships, Your Majesty,” he laughed. “They are saluting us.”

“Ships! Can we stop and see them? Please?” 

“We have to stop in order to get the cannons to salute them back.”

“How wonderful!” The moment the carriage stopped, Elik felt like jumping out. Instead, he did what was expected of him. He waited for Nikolaj to get out, and then followed him. He stood entranced at the side of the road, watching as King Hans Ulrich’s ships glided across the water behind the smoke. How beautiful they looked, serene and majestic. He wished someone would paint them!

“Oh, he sent us fifteen ships of the line! He really expects Oerestand to be a pain, doesn’t he? Ah, and look at those frigates! And those corvettes, aren’t they graceful? My Love, I want a frigate too! Or more! When you get Sabvajent bay, you will build a proper navy, won’t you? And the first battleship of ours will be called after you _Sun of Justice_ , because you too are brilliant like the sun and you fight for justice! Oh, Nikolaj, Ships!”

Nikolaj stared at him with a sweet and loving expression he hadn’t seen in years. 

He frowned. “Husband?”

“Ah, you are my Most Magnificent Love,” he sighed. “When we resume our journey, I will start working on my homework. How can I let doubts darken the love I have for you?”

Elik stayed silent, certain that if he spoke, he’d manage to say something wrong. He loved Nikolaj, he truly did, but the man kept hurting him. Ah, how much easier everything would have been if he didn’t love him. How much better everything would be if Nikolaj trusted him and believed him. Also? He was beginning to understand Grisha’s annoyance with Nikolaj’s apologies. Mentioning something once or twice was enough! He didn’t have to say how he didn’t trust him over and over. He sighed, trying to sound despondent, rather than frustrated. 

Nikolaj hugged him immediately. “My love,” he whispered. 

Elik closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Even after everything that had happened, being in Nikolaj’s arms made him feel safe and at ease. Even after realizing that he didn’t need Nikolaj to feel safe, he still felt so, and it made him glad to be held in his embrace. “Ah, husband,” he whispered. “I love you so.”

Nikolaj just hugged him a little more tightly. 

The thunderous noise of their answering cannon salute made him laugh. “How much better they sound when you know they fire in peace!”

&*&*

Grigori held Vasya’s hand and smiled at him as the sound of the last cannon fire faded. “That was loud,” he shouted. 

“I agree!” Vasya smiled, still looking at the procession of ships. 

Their beauty belied how deadly they were. How would it be to be on a ship? If Their Majesties were successful, he’d know within a year or two, he was certain of it. He smiled. Vasya seemed to like ships; he would like them, then. 

They watched them for a few more moments. “I was thinking,” Vasya said.

“Yes?”

“We only have heavy cannons.”

Grigori stared at him curiously. “Yes, what else is new?”

“Don’t they use lighter cannons at Oerestand?”

Grigori tried not to laugh as they climbed back into their carriage. “You want to know why we don’t have any, and when will we start having them?” he asked as he lay down on Vasya’s lap, feeling content. 

“Yes. Heavy cannons are great, but they only move as fast as the infantry. I was watching them fire and I was thinking, as damaging as they are, they are still easy targets for any cavalry attack, putting us in the defensive.”

“And an army that attacks is better placed for victory,” Grigori said, certain that Vasya was about to say that.

“Yes!”

He smiled. “So, you want the army to have lighter cannons drawn by horses, the way they do at the Oerestandish army?”

“Yes.” 

It made sense. “Will you speak to Their Majesties about it?” 

“Why?” Vasya sighed. “Vjernisof is right, Grisha. We bypass the chain of command whenever we can, making enemies in the process. If I talk to Their Majesties, I will be doing this behind the back of several of my superiors in the army and… in any case, I’m not really in the army; I’m on secondment to His Majesty’s service, responsible for his safety. No, I will write to Okdranov, and hope he listens.”

He sat up and studied Vasya. He looked a little depressed. “You are right; you must do the right thing.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No,” he grinned. “Besides, even if you spoke to their Majesties, we don’t have any light cannons here. They would need to write to Okdranov to send some, and that would happen only after the men were trained to move fast. Did you read the reports from the last campaign against Oerestand? I was most impressed; they have carriages drawn by six horses with the cannons facing backwards. When they are ready to engage, they just turn the horses around so that the cannon now faces the enemy, the men jump off, detach the cannons from the carriage, fire, then attach it, jump on their horses and move forward.”

“I wonder why we didn’t adopt that, especially since we had time to prepare for this campaign.”

“Perhaps we didn’t have as much time as you think. In my opinion, His Majesty had seemed keen on defending his position in the beginning of the year, rather than going for an attack, and between his decision to attack Oerestand and the campaign, only three months passed.”

“That makes sense.” He still looked concerned about something.

“What now?” he nudged him. 

“Six horses…. That’s…”

“Fast?”

“Yes, but… you read the reports more than I did.”

Grigori nodded. “I did, but it couldn’t be helped. You were busy training all the Guards how to sing and dance,” he grinned. 

Vasya snorted. “Ass.”

“Rude, Vasya, apologize to me,” he laughed. 

“Oh, I am so sorry, Grishka Grishuka!” Vasya said, laughing and trying hard to look contrite. “Will you, please, pretty please, tell me how long did it take for a unit of six horsemen to deploy their light cannons?”

Grigori thought back at what he had read. “Fast. They were impressively fast.”

“So, we should be better.”

Grigori smiled. Of course, they had to be! “What are you thinking?”

“Ship cannons. They are lighter and their shells can be easily carried. What if we broke the Oerestandish unit in its components? One team on horseback, ready to position the cannons where they are needed, and one, also on horseback, carrying the shells. While one team manoeuvres the carriage with the cannon, the other dismounts and is ready to fire. Wouldn’t that save some time?”

“Write to Okdranov and ask him to test what would be faster. Do you think he will listen?”

“I hope so. Strangely enough, he seems to like me now.”

Grigori smiled. “You really need to update me on many things.”

“I will. And so will you.” He leaned close for a light kiss on the lips. “What do you think of my idea?”

“I think it’s good.” Vasya really was so clever! He kissed him. “Write to Okdranov!”

“Thank you! Grishka?”

“Yes, Siuta?”

“What would be the best way to drag a light cannon around?”

“Hm, do you think cannons is the way forward? What about howitzers? You don’t need to shoot from a great distance, do you?”

“Hm.”

Grigori took out his notebook. “Let’s see. Here, draw a ship cannon for me, I’ve never seen one. How does it compare to a howitzer?”

Vasya smiled and his eyes shone as he started drawing. 

Grigori tried not to laugh. So much for Vasya being on leave. Not that he minded. He felt he was growing rusty from doing nothing all these days. His mind was well, and his body would catch up to it soon! Oh, how happy he was with Vasya! 

&*&*

Maxim tried not to grin, but it was difficult. Their Majesties looked very pleased with each other again. He winked at Valery and he nodded as they followed him inside the dining tent where they had camped. 

In front of him, he could hear the Captain whispering softly to his husband. He sounded happy, making Maxim wonder if they too had been pleasing themselves in their carriage. Or perhaps they were happy because they were again seated at pride of place, at His Majesty’s right. 

His Majesty led the Young Lord to their table and waited for him to sit before he took his place beside him. “I wonder if this meal will be quiet or not.”

“I hope it will be.” The Young Lord turned towards him. “Tell me, Maxim, have you decided what to do about His Majesty’s, King Hans Ulrich’s proposal?”

Maxim nodded. “I decided to turn it down.”

“Why?” His Majesty asked him curiously. 

“If he wanted me, he should have sent his proposal to me first. That he did not, means that he has no feelings for me, and he probably never will.”

His Majesty grinned. “My dear, young man, you can’t expect a King to write to a Guard directly.”

“Why not? If he cared about me, he would have done it. Love is about doing what is strange to you, and transcending your own self!”

“Another of Vasya’s students, I see,” he smiled. 

“Well said, Maxim,” the Young Lord said approvingly. 

“Well, since you re not interested….” His Majesty turned towards Count Njedzic. “Can you give me King Hans Ulrich’s letter later? He also asked if a few others of the Guard would be interested in his proposal.”

“That cad,” Maxim shouted. “Proposing to me, but having back-up plans! I am so glad I rejected him!”

“What an ass,” Valery also shouted. “Sire, may I send a reply to His Majesty for daring to insult my brother in this manner?”

“No, you may not,” His Majesty grinned. “He is our most trusted ally. We cannot annoy him now.”

“Does this mean that I must send him one of my Guards to be his common-law husband because he’s our ally? The Guards are my brothers! I do not want them to go to such an unscrupulous and unfeeling man who cares not for love,” the Young Lord also complained.

“Well said, Sire,” Maxim said, nodding emphatically.

His Majesty snorted. “If you say so, Our Most Precious. We will write to him that you cannot part from your Guards.”

“But…” Maxim said a little more quietly than earlier.

“Yes?”

“What if one of my Brothers doesn’t mind? Whoever marries him, will have a good and easy life. Please, ask them first, Sire.”

The Young Lord smiled. “As you wish, Maxim.”

Maxim grinned. “You see, I am a very generous person,” he told Valery. 

Valery nodded, smiling. “Yes, you are.”

“I wonder if one of them will say ‘yes’.”

“Me too.”

His Majesty cleared his throat. “You are not supposed to talk during Imperial Guard duty.”

The Young Lord snorted. “We’re in the middle of a field, having dinner in a tent. Why can’t we be a little less formal now?”

“Next, you will ask them to have dinner with us.”

“What an excellent idea! We often had dinner together in our trip to the West, didn’t we?”

Maxim and Valery nodded happily. 

“Well, this is Court away from Court, and we should be formal.”

“Yes, Husband,” he sighed.

“We can be informal after dinner, Sire,” Maxim told him soothingly. 

“Oh, yes, indeed! And maybe we can ask Vasya for a story. Vasily, Vasya, will we have a story after dinner?” The Young Lord asked loudly with a bright smile. 

“Last night’s stories were dreadfully sad. Today, we need a happy one,” Count Bitoulin shouted, grinning.

“With songs,” Major Kamenski added.

“One from history,” General Loviljin suddenly added.

General Mrishsnan laughed. “And maybe with some battles?”

Evgeni whispered something to his husband. “And can it have romance too?” His husband asked, grinning, and making several sigh ‘romance!’ 

“I’m on leave,” The Captain whispered with a resigned expression to his husband as he stared shocked at everyone.

“No, you are not,” the Colonel laughed. “Yes, he will tell us a story,” he said loudly.

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!”

His Majesty shook his head. “I don’t know anything anymore,” he smiled, his confusion still obvious.

“Don’t worry, Sire,” Maxim told him kindly. “You will.”

His Majesty looked at him and grinned. “Ah, what a husband Hans Ulrich just lost. No one writes that to him, you hear me?” he shouted loudly. “Maxim, when you do find love, let Us know. We would like to cover the expenses of your wedding.”

“Thank you, but I must respectfully decline, Sire. I will not have a favour my Brothers will not.”

The Young Lord and the Colonels looked at him with pride. 

“Then, We shall marry all of you,” His Majesty laughed. “Never let it be said that I am not a generous man, especially to Our Most Precious’ Special Guards.”

“Thank you, Sire,” Valery and he said at the same time.

“Now, can you please pretend we are at Court?”

“Yes, Sire!”

&*&*

Nikolaj looked at Elik. Oh, how beautiful he was. “Will you be requiring separate quarters tonight?” he asked him as they walked out of the dining tent, Vasya and the Guards’ song about the Mother Land still lingering in his mind. 

“I should, but I would rather be with you,” he whispered, touching his hand, and smiling at him. 

There was nothing but love in Elik’s eyes and he felt so stupid. “I still haven’t started on my homework,” he said as they walked towards his tent.

“You should. It is very helpful!” Elik told him with certainty. 

“And how… Don’t tell me, they also gave you homework,” he grinned. His smile fell suddenly. Why didn’t he mind when Vasya and Grisha so clearly acted towards them like that? Giving them ‘homework’ as if they were their tutors. Why didn’t he mind? Why did he trust them without even thinking about it? 

“What is it?”

“I trust Vasya and Grisha more than you,” he muttered, ashamed of himself. 

Elik huffed for a moment, before taking a deep breath. “Husband, you’ve known them for years. Of course, you would trust them.” He left the ‘more than me’ unsaid. 

“You don’t mind?”

“What hurts is that you don’t trust me, not that you trust them,” Elik told him seriously. “You should trust your friends. I also trust them, and I don’t know them as long as you do.”

Nikolaj smiled, feeling even more humbled. “When did you grow so wise?”

“Oh, I always was,” Elik told him airily, clearly not wanting a serious discussion on the matter of trust. “I’m Elik the Wise, the Second, don’t you know?” he laughed. 

“If I could, I would hug you and carry you back to my tent,” he whispered, cursing Vasya silently.

“Why don’t you?” Elik asked him curiously. “I wouldn’t mind,” he said in an even lower tone.

“It’s not proper nor respectful towards my One and Only.”

“Ah.” Elik stopped, turned to face him and stood on his tiptoes so he could reach Nikolaj’s lips. Nikolaj lowered his head to meet him, and they shared a brief, chaste kiss. “Thank you, Husband,” Elik smiled when they parted. 

Such a small thing made Elik smile so sweetly. He really needed to learn how to love him as he deserved! Love was a gift; he shouldn’t take it for granted. 

“I think…” his darling whispered, a playful tone in his voice, “our couplings will be even better when we hold back in public.”

“Yes, but… I miss the days that we fucked in public,” he said as they walked into his tent and Nikolaj dismissed his waiting servants. 

Elik blushed. “I don’t. I grew used to it, but… only slaves get fucked in public, My Heart. It made me feel…” He looked at him. “I will say it. I did not like the whispers behind my back, nor the way they stared. If everyone fucked in public, or rather, if married people fucked their own wives and husbands, then perhaps I would not mind, but as things are?” Elik smiled. “I am so glad you treat me like a Bosilik husband!”

“This means so much to you?” Nikolaj asked as he sat on his desk and took out a piece of paper. 

“Yes,” Elik said as he sat facing him. “Bosilke is my home as much as Quhjan. I want to make my country proud of me!”

Nikolaj smiled. “What a high-minded Quhjani I married.”

“An Elder and descendant of Great Dukes,” Elik said proudly. 

“Really?”

“Really. I am of the line of Malk, the Great Duke,” he grinned. “Now, if we can only figure out how to persuade others. I have people searching the Archives of Jedlowa for whatever my family used as coat of arms, but…” He sighed, still looking amused. “I truly am of an ancient and noble line, perhaps one even older than yours.”

“Older than mine? I doubt that!” Nikolaj dipped his quill in ink. “Darling, what is my homework exactly?”

Elik glared at him. 

“Just joking,” he laughed as he started writing. “I love and trust my One and Only because he loves me and will never betray me!”

“Better,” Elik told him seriously.

He chuckled. Ah, how he loved his darling. Serious or playful, he loved him. How he hoped this exercise worked. _I love and trust my One and Only because he loves me and will never betray me_ , he wrote again. “Do I have to write it fifty times?”

“No. It will be our secret that you won’t! But you must write it at least three or five times and think about it seriously when you write it.” He took out his notebook and his pencil.

“And what are you writing? Your own homework?” How curious he was as to what that was!

“No, but something Grisha told me yesterday made me decide to try something new, to write something that I am grateful for every morning and evening.” He smiled at him. “Today, I am grateful that you pleased me,” he told him in a low voice, full of desire. “And treated me like a Bosilik husband in front of everyone,” he smiled, looking as pleased as a naughty child that got rewarded for his naughtiness. 

Grinning, and feeling stupid and ashamed, he wrote again, _I love and trust my One and Only because he loves me and will never betray me_. He had to learn his lesson, and he had to learn it fast. It had been so long since Elik had been so playful with him. He much preferred his Moon to shine than to hide its beauty.

_I love and trust my One and Only because he loves me and will never betray me_

&*&*

Vasily smiled as he made himself comfortable on the mattress and staring at the tent’s roof for a moment before turning his attention to Grisha. “I wonder if Mark was right. But not just for His Majesty.”

“About what?” Grisha asked as he settled on him, warming him with his breath and his body and his presence. 

“That fucking puts him in a good mood. I think it applies for his other Majesty as well.” He grinned. His Majesty had called him ‘Vasily Vasya’. Whatever happened in that carriage, had put him in a very good mood for him to have used that way of addressing him. 

Grisha smiled at him. “Vasya, do you want to persuade His Majesty to keep his husband with him on campaigns?”

“Maybe?”

Grisha shook his head. “My Husband, let us help them fix their relationship, if they ask again for help, but let us not meddle anymore. Please? Let Love find the way that is right for them.”

Vasily looked at Grisha. He really was so wise. Love had guided them, after all; surely, it would guide Their Majesties. No matter how they had started their common life together, they were finally on their way to become true partners. Love had bound their hearts, even if their minds struggled with Love’s bonds. Especially His Majesty’s mind! How could he be so foolish? He forced himself to relax and smiled at Grisha. “You are so right, my Husband. Love will guide them.”

Grisha smiled at him predatorily. “If I am so right, do I deserve a prize?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Siuta Vasiuka?”

“Yes, Grishka Grishuka?”

“I want you.”

“You have me.”

“No, I want to do with you as I will.”

Vasily looked at Grisha. His expression was so full of passion and awe and, as always, it was humbling to see that this marvelous, wonderful, clever, bright, handsome man thought him so desirable. He smiled. “I am yours, Grishka Grishuka.”

Grisha’s smile widened. “Oh, I am going to love you so much, Siuta Vasiuka,” he purred. “I have missed you so!”

Vasily shivered. He had missed Grishka so much too! He couldn’t wait for Grishka to do whatever he wanted with him. 

&*&*

Maxim warmed his hands in the fire they had lit near the tent they were to share. They should be going to sleep, but he didn’t feel like it, and neither did his brothers. “I wonder when we will start hearing the ‘Yes, Nikolaj,’” he giggled, feeling a little heady from whatever drink Longin had been sharing with them.

Valery hit him, grinning. “Shut up.”

“It’s the truth. They are loud. Unlike the Captain and his husband.”

Valery nodded. “I wonder if they too pleased themselves in the carriage like Their Majesties did.”

“They did look pleased,” Maxim laughed, taking another swig from Longin’s drink.

Longin and Yulian smiled and nodded.

“No, they didn’t,” Carel told them. “They first talked, and after we saw the ships, they spent their time writing.” He snorted. “I think I have been unofficially seconded to the Colonel’s service and have become his unofficial aide. This is the second day since the Young Lord’s arrival that I am told to be with the Colonel and look after him. Not that I mind riding beside them.”

Evgeni grinned. “And I have been put on honeymoon leave.”

“Enjoy it, Brother,” Maxim grinned as he hugged him. 

“You are married to an Ambassador, though,” Longin said carefully. “It is unusual for a Guard to be in such a position.”

“Unique, you mean,” Mir said. “I have never heard of such a thing.”

“Me neither,” Yulian added. 

“What do you want to say?”

“That, you might need to ask to leave Imperial service, and be with your husband,” Longin said. 

Evgeni glared at him. “If Thomas doesn’t mind, why should I care what others think?”

Longin made to answer, but Mir nudged him and he closed his mouth. 

“Brothers,” Jan shouted as he joined them together with Andrik.

“Are you not on duty?”

“No, the Young Lord said that since they are guarded by an army, they don’t need us,” he grinned as he sat down between Maxim and Evgeni and hugged them. “Evgeni, I have missed you,” he said, kissing him on the cheek.

“What brought this on?” Maxim laughed as Evgeni blushed. 

“I am just happy,” Jan shouted, kissing Maxim as well. “The Young Lord seemed happy, the Captain is happy, I’m with my Brothers, and I have a very good feeling about this campaign. Don’t ask me how, but I do.”

Valery and Yulian snorted. 

“Wait till I tell you this,” Maxim grinned. “The Colonel calls us ‘wolf cubs’.”

Longin, Mir and Yulian seemed impressed. “Really?”

He nodded. 

“Which makes our Captain the leader of our wolf pack,” Carel laughed.

Jan howled loudly. 

“It’s not full moon yet,” Andrik chuckled. 

“What happened?” Vadim asked as he settled between Andrik and Valery and offered them a drink from a large flask.

“Jan thinks he’s a wolf,” Carel smiled. 

“Yes, because we’re all members of the Captain’s wolf pack,” Maxim grinned. 

“Lucky you,” Yulian smiled. “I wonder what the Captain, our Captain, thinks of us.”

“You are his men,” Evgeni said with conviction. “The ones he trusts with his life, and to whom he’s entrusted the life of His Majesty.”

“I think that’s better than wolves,” Longin grinned. 

Maxim made a face, and chuckled. “I like being a wolf. Brothers, do you know any songs about wolves?”

“We have a lullaby about wolves where I come from,” Evgeni told them. 

“And we have a song about werewolves where my family comes from,” Jan grinned. “Do you want to hear it?”

They nodded eagerly. 

“The song is about a young woman who wanders into the forest and meets a werewolf. She promises him her silver cloak, but the werewolf wants her blood. She then promises him her gold ring, and he says no again. The knight she loves runs to find her but only finds a bloody arm.”

“Sounds grim, but I am still curious,” Valery said. 

Evgeni smiled with resignation. “How bad can it be? We’ve already heard of dead men who won’t stay dead, and of lovers who kill their lovers. Sing it to us, Jan.”

Jan started a rhythmic song that sounded too cheerful to be about a young woman eaten by a werewolf. His family’s mother tongue sounded pretty, musical, and full of vowels and soft consonants. 

Maxim and Carel started clapping in tune with him. 

From a few tents away from them, several men joined Jan in his song. 

“Must be the Oerestandish volunteers,” Longin whispered. 

Jan stood up and started singing even more loudly, beckoning the men to join them. One of them started playing the music with a small lute and another with a flute. 

Evgeni started humming the song and together with Mir sang the few words they had picked up. 

By the time Jan had finished, several of the volunteers who had joined the army for the sake of Queen Adelaide and her son had come to sit beside them. 

The man with the lute asked Jan something in Oerestandish. Truly, the language was very beautiful to listen to. 

Jan nodded. The man started singing another song full of rhythm, but faster than the werewolf song. In the second line, Jan and the others joined him, grinning. It must have been an entertaining song. 

Next to love, music was a language everyone could speak, Maxim thought as they tried to create music to accompany the song with whatever they had, clapping, humming, banging their flasks with their daggers. 

They laughed when they were done. 

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked as he approached them and squeezed himself between Evgeni and Jan, before taking Evgeni’s hand in his. 

“We were singing songs about wolves.”

“And werewolves.”

“And giants, killed by musicians,” the man with the lyre said in Valentinois with an Oerestandish musical accent. 

“I know a song about a wolf,” Thomas said. “It’s in old Valentinois, and it’s about a wolf, a fox, and a hare that dance.”

“Sing it to us,” Evgeni said with a smile. 

“My voice is bad,” he protested softly, shaking his head. 

“Who cares?” Jan laughed. “Thomas, sixth…”

Carel threw a small stone on Jan’s head. “We are not to do this again,” he hissed in Bosilik. 

Maxim chuckled. The Colonel must have told him off and made his opinion very clear on the matter. 

Evgeni whispered something to Thomas and he nodded. “I will teach the song to Evgeni and he will sing it to you tomorrow. What were you singing earlier? It sounded beautiful.”

“We were singing of the divine musician Thorvald, who killed a giant with his instrument,” Jan said, and the man with the lute grinned. “Friend, what’s your name?” Jan asked him. 

“Karl.”

“Karl, you know the ballad of brave Sir Helmut, whom the water nymph wanted to marry?”

Karl started playing his lute instead of replying. 

Maxim grinned at a dark-haired young man seated behind him, who lowered his eyes bashfully and gave him the softest smile in return. “Hello, friend. Will you teach me this song?” he asked him gently in Valentinois. “I’m Maxim,” he said, pointing at himself. 

“Ari,” he replied, placing his hand on his chest as he shook his head and said something in his language. In the firelight, he saw him blush fiercely, while several Oerestandish soldiers stared at him in awe. 

Maxim pointed at Jan and Karl and made a gesture as if he were talking. “Ger Helmut, Ger Helmut, tru loeb en mig?” he sang what he heard. 

“Ah,” Ari grinned and nodded. 

Truly, music was the language everyone could speak, next to that of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes I wonder if this is alternate history, with me borrowing so many things from here and there (like the werewolf song, common in Scandivania). oh, well....


	85. Chapter 85

13th 

Nikolaj studied his darling as he slept. In the soft morning light, he looked so peaceful and beautiful. Yet, even though he still looked like the Elik he had left behind at Jedlowa a couple of months earlier, he had changed. He was no longer that sweet, timid youth who depended on him for everything, couldn’t dare make decisions on his own, clung to him with desperation, and argued with the passion of a child. 

He smiled; he wasn’t sure how to describe the Elik that he’d left behind, but the Elik that had come back to him was a man. Still full of the playfulness and love of amusement of youth, but also a man who was calm, dignified, still passionate but able to control himself, and who believed in himself. This truly was his Consort of Imperial Rank. Elik had found his place at Court and in the Empire. 

This Elik could live without him if he had to. 

Only, he didn’t want to live without him. And he wasn’t sure if he could; these last three days, with Elik by his side, he’d felt more at peace than he’d felt during the whole campaign – and this was the easiest campaign of his life. 

Smiling, he started writing his homework. What did it mean to trust Elik because of love? And why was he scared of his power when he’d had ample evidence that Elik would not fight him? He was being foolish. 

“Husband?” Elik mumbled.

“I’m here, love. Just doing my homework.”

Elik opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Good morning, My Husband.”

“Good morning, Husband.” He watched Elik stay in bed and stare at him like a satisfied cat. “Did you sleep well?”

Elik nodded with a happy expression. 

“So did I. My Elik, My Love, My Darling?”

“Yes?” 

“I was thinking…” He smiled. “No matter what happens with Francis, or has happened, as they must have reached Svjetlski Castle by now, would you mind staying with me in this campaign to the end?”

Elik threw the covers off his and ran to him. “Husband,” he shouted, grinning, and hugging him tightly. “Thank you,” he said and kissed him. 

Nikolaj shifted so that Elik could sit on his lap and they could kiss and caress each other better. How glad he was that not everything about the Elik he had left behind had changed! 

&*&*

His Majesty approached them with a wide grin. “I will be riding with my Husband today,” he told them. “Oh, Vasya,” he said, suddenly grabbing both of his hands in his, “Nikolaj asked me to accompany him in this campaign! I am so glad I didn’t punch him,” he whispered. 

“I am so glad that he did, Your Majesty,” Vasily told him earnestly. Oh, Grisha was truly so wise! Love had found a way to guide them in togetherness, just as Grisha had said would happen. 

“So am I,” he laughed. “Vasya, Grisha, thank you so much.”

“We did nothing,” Grisha said. 

“You did everything yourself,” Vasily added.

His Majesty let him go, shaking his head. “I should go back now, but I really wanted to share my good news. I will see you later!”

They bowed. The moment he had turned his back to go back to His Majesty’s carriage, he grabbed Grisha’s hand. “My Husband, you were so right.”

Grisha smiled. “I am glad for them.” 

Vasily stepped into their carriage and helped Grisha in. “Carel is still your escort, I see,” he grinned as he saw the young man riding behind their carriage. 

“I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“No.” Vasily smiled as Grisha settled next to him. “It’s just so odd to have an escort as if we’re nobles.”

“We are, Vasya,” he grinned. “Ah, my Husband, how did this happen to us?”

“I have no idea. I mean, I can describe all the things that happened to bring us here, but I still can’t understand it.” Their Luck was so strange.

“Let us not think about it, then. It happened, now we have to live with it.”

He nodded and broke into laugher. “Grishka, if anyone heard us, he’d think something terrible has befallen us. Why are we like this? Anyone else would have been happy.”

Grisha nuzzled him. “I know why we are like this, because we long for peace. Since Luck has brought us here, though, we will find peace in ourselves, not in staying away from people. In any case, we were pretty bad at it,” he laughed. “For two people desiring peace and quiet and solitude and a simple life, we have far too many friends.”

Vasily nodded, grinning. “That is so true. Perhaps our quest for finding peace in solitude was doomed from the start. Yes, let us find peace within ourselves, my Grisha.”

Grisha smiled. “Speaking of weird things, General Mrishnan asked me the strangest thing last night, after you finished your story.”

“Really? What?”

“If I would be willing to write a manual on training soldiers. Vasya, I am not that experienced! That is too great a responsibility.”

Vasily smiled. “You want to do it.”

“Yes. Husband, will you help me? And, would you write something on the soldiers’ disposition? What is the point of training someone to fight, if you can’t make them understand that they don’t fight for their king, but for their country and their fellow countrymen and women?”

“As you wish.” He took out his portable writing desk and opened it. “I know you hate writing reports and official documents, so what if you dictate to me?”

Grisha kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“I live to be of use to you, don’t you know it?” 

Grisha looked at him with awe. 

When Grisha looked at him like that, he felt like he could do anything for him! Ah, Grisha! 

&*&*

Nikolaj grinned at him. “Darling, won’t you sit next to me?”

Happily, he moved from one seat to the other and settled next to his husband. “I love you so much,” he said as he reached for Nikolaj’s cock.

Nikolaj shuddered and removed his hand. “Darling, can I first ask you to write to your Guards about Hans Ulrich’s proposal? And then we can please each other as much as you want.”

Smiling, he nodded. “Fine. Tell me, who are the lucky Guards?” He looked at him seriously. “I really don’t like that he’s asked us something like that. What are we doing? Managing an Orgy Hall?”

Nikolaj stared at him shocked. “Darling, how would you know of such things?”

“I am a man of the world,” he said as confidently as he could, and then grinned widely. “I don’t know much, that is true, but I am not that innocent, my Heart!” 

Nikolaj leaned and rubbed the tip of his nose against his. “Darling,” he smiled. 

“Husband,” he replied. “Well, who are those Guards?”

He took out the letter and read out loud. “They are Afanasy, Peter, Fyodor, Daniel, Luca, and Valery.”

“Oh, Valery is here. We can ask him now.” He knocked on the side of the carriage and a moment later Yulian appeared. 

“Your Majesty?”

“Please, ask Valery to come here. Thank you.” He smiled. The night before, Valery had protested on behalf of Maxim, but what would he do faced with the prospect of such good fortune? If Valery wanted to get married to King Hans Ulrich, what could he do but let him go? 

By the time the carriage had stopped moving, Valery was there. “Your Majesty?”

Nikolaj grinned. “Young man, why don’t you join us for a few minutes?” 

Valery looked at him first and only when he nodded, did he dismount and climb in their carriage, sitting very properly on the seat facing them. 

“Young man, King Hans Ulrich has the honour to ask for your hand in marriage.”

Valery raised one eyebrow. Then he smirked. “Then I most respectfully thank him for his offer, and decline it.”

“Just like that? Why?”

Because he was still offended on Maxim’s behalf, he thought. 

“Because, I do find it offensive that he asked Maxim first, and not me.” He laughed. “No, I would have rejected him even if he’d asked me first, I am offended that he thinks that he can place an order for a husband like that. And…”

“Yes?”

“I am not ready to settle down yet. If I did find my One and Only, then maybe, but I am not really looking for him, and I am quite happy as I am.” He grinned. “Besides, Maxim has the right idea; who wants a husband who has back-up plans?”

Elik nodded. 

“He wants to be happy again,” Nikolaj said sympathetically.

“He can be happy with someone else,” Valery said. “Frankly and in absolute honesty? The way he proposed is offensive. I am not as love-seeking as Maxim, but even I see that this is… And he can’t fuck very well,” he smiled, winking at Elik. 

He blushed, but he did agree. That was an important aspect of any relationship! 

“Oh, really?” Nikolaj seemed very interested in that. “Tell me, how was he?”

Valery shrugged. “He was decent, but not great.” He smiled sweetly. “Ah, but His Highness, the Dragon. Ah, he was good! And delightful!”

Somehow, Elik had expected that. Why was the postal service so slow? What had Alexandre replied to his letter?

Nikolaj grinned. “How honest you are.”

“Of course. Honesty between Brothers is one of the principles of the Special Imperial Guards, and obedience to our Emperor another. Your Majesty asked, Your Majesty will get an honest reply.”

Elik nodded as Nikolaj chuckled.

“So, you really want me to write to your brothers and tell them that you passed this great honour?”

“Yes, Sire, thank you.”

Nikolaj looked at Valery a little too closely, making him wonder if his husband was about to ask if Valery would sleep with him. 

“And, one more thing, Honest Valery. Would you sleep with me?” He said seriously. 

Elik rolled his eyes upwards. “Not that again,” he muttered. 

“Sire,” Valery shouted at the same time as Elik whispered. “How dare you ask me to betray my brother? If you weren’t my Most Noble Emperor, I would punch you,” he huffed. “And you may punish me for my outburst and insubordination, but I do not regret it. In fact, I am going to report it to the Captain, so he can punish me.” He started moving when he sat down again. “No, the Captain is on leave, so that means Quartermaster Sokolov is now my superior, but by the time he gets my report, the Captain will probably be back on duty.” He frowned. “Sire,” he asked Elik, looking honestly frustrated and confused, “to whom do I report my misbehaviour here?”

Elik looked at his husband, curious. The Guards were His Guards, but his husband was Commander-in-Chief of the Bosilik forces. 

Nikolaj started laughing. “You report to me, Honest Valery, and since I witnessed the incident, there is no need to write it. Nor will I punish you for being so honest with me. Especially since I was just joking.”

Elik tried hard not to groan, but Valery didn’t care about that. “That was a bad joke, Sire,” he told him seriously. “You heard the Captain, words can hurt, so please, be more careful with them. With your permission,” he told them, saluted and jumped out of the carriage. 

Nikolaj stared at the door dumbfounded. “Darling? What is going on? Why are all your Guards so free with Us?”

“They are Our Special Guards, My Husband.” Elik smiled as he lowered his voice. “And they are all Intelligence. You can’t blame them if they treat everything like a situation that has to be assessed and on which they have to give their professional opinion.”

Nikolaj looked at him with the same confusion as he’d seen Valery leave. Suddenly, he began laughing boisterously. “Darling, I have missed you!”

Elik was certain that Nikolaj was making fun of him for some reason, but the next moment Nikolaj embraced him tightly and started caressing him. “Oh, Love,” he continued. “My sweet, clever Love, how right you are. Ah.”

Elik melted in his embrace as the carriage started moving again. Nikolaj did sound honest; he could forgive him. 

&*&*

Mark finished reading Nikolaj’s letter to his friends and fellow Ministers. “Gentlemen, we must deal with the Barianins. We cannot let that wound fester any longer.”

“And we must also deal with His Highness, Prince Kallinik,” Dima said. 

Pavel nodded. “Let’s start with him. He is at his summer estate outside the Capital. Let us arrest him, and bring him in for questioning. Our Ambassador’s letter is clear; the man is guilty of treason.”

“Who approves of this?” Adam asked. 

They all raised their hands. 

“And the Barianins?”

Mark grimaced. “As you remember, the original plan was to send someone to negotiate with them, but in light of this? I would like to send the Reds and one more capital regiment to their home castle as escorts to the messengers bearing their arrest warrant. If they refuse arrest, they will take them by force.”

“The Reds?”

Mark sighed. “They need to do something to redeem themselves. They were in two mutinies this year! In His Majesty’s place, I would disband them and send everyone to the borders.” He smiled a little. “They are my regiment, Gentlemen. I want to protect them.”

“You are getting sentimental, Mark?” Vassily teased him. 

“I am being practical. We need men, especially men who have been trained at war. Even when we do manage to push forward with the emancipation bill, it will take weeks before we get new conscripts, and even longer before we arm, clothe, and train them. Am I wrong?”

Vassily shook his head, smiling at him. 

“What if we sent men from all the other Capital regiments to accompany the Reds?” Adam asked. “They were all involved in the mutiny that stalled. His Majesty could disband them as easily as he could disband the Reds.”

“Who is in favour of this?”

They raised their hands. 

Pavel nodded. “The Ministry will prepare the arrest warrants.”

“And I will ask my Department to make a list of who could escort the Reds to the Barianins’ castle,” Vassily said. “I can’t believe their pride is that great. As if they didn’t benefit from their close relationship to the Imperial family for generations. Ungrateful curs.”

“You insult dogs,” Adam told him seriously.

“Apologies. Ungrateful Barianins.”

“Yes, if they are guilty, that should become a curse word,” Dima said. 

“You give them too much worth if you do that,” Pavel snorted. “Let us arrest them and convict them after the proper procedures have been followed, and then we can decide.”

Mark grinned. “We could follow the Old Way. Raze their castle and city palace to the ground, and salt the earth so that nothing will grow there again.”

“We could,” Pavel smiled. “But first, we will do everything right. Any other business?”

“That is my line,” Adam protested.

“I have work to do. I don’t want to waste more time on this meeting, if it is over.”

Adam glared at him. “Any other business?”

“Nothing from me.”

Dima and Vassily shook their heads. 

“Then, this meeting is over,” Adam said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe the Barianins would go that far.”

“I know,” Pavel whispered, frowning. 

Mark nodded. He couldn’t believe it either. 

&*&*

Nikolaj stayed up once everyone was seated. “Lesnev,” he said seriously, making everyone fall silent. “Not you, the other one,” when both Vasya and Grisha turned to look at him and Grisha made a small gesture pointing at himself. “What have you been teaching Our Special Guards?”

“How to do their duty with honesty and righteousness, Your Majesty,” he replied loudly. 

Nikolaj grinned. “Good, continue to do so. We like it. Vasya?” he asked as he sat down.

“Sire?”

“Can you tell Us a story tonight? One about honest knights who do their duty no matter what?”

“With a happy ending,” his darling smiled.

“And songs,” Major Kamenski said.

“Vasya, you must write your stories,” Elik told him as Vasya stared at them with his eyes wide. “That would be wonderful.”

“Sire, all my stories come from books. There is no need for me to write them.” Nikolaj saw Elik made a slight disappointed grimace and Vasya immediately looked remorseful. “I may do so later, if you so wish it, but I am afraid I am otherwise engaged at the moment.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. I am my husband’s secretary,” he said brightly. 

“And co-author to the manual General Mrishnan asked me to write,” Grisha said, looking proud of Vasya. 

What manual? 

Vasya shook his head. “And as secretary,” Vasya said pointedly, “I would like to conduct interviews with various officers, starting from you, Sire. Do I have your permission?”

“Of course. You may ask whomever you want, whatever you want. But from tomorrow. Tonight, We dine, and then We want a story.”

Vasya nodded, and bowed his head with a resigned sigh. Grisha rubbed his back. 

Nikolaj smiled at Elik. 

Elik sighed. “I do love you, my Love,” he said and stopped. 

"But?”

“But nothing,” Elik smiled. “When one loves, one accepts.”

Accepts what? Oh, well, he grinned. It was true; when one loved, one accepted. Hadn’t he accepted his strange, mysterious, freedom-loving darling? 

And when he learned to trust him completely, their joy would be complete. 

&*&*

Maxim finished writing the song about the wolf, the fox, and the hare, and grinned at Evgeni and Thomas. “Thank you so much.”

“You really want to collect all wolf-related songs there are?” Thomas asked him. 

Maxim nodded. “Yes. Among them, there must be one that is suitable for us.”

Ari muttered something and Karl smiled. “Ari asks, Why don’t you write one?” 

“What a good idea,” he smiled at Ari. “How do you say that in Oerestandish?”

“Guut ide,” Karl said.

“Guut ide, Ari. Mang taak.”

”Velbekoomeen,” Ari smiled.

Valery hugged him for a moment before sitting down next to him. “Have you found love?” He whispered in his ear.

“No, but he’s charming. And fun.” Maxim grinned. “Tonight, do you want to join us? Jan? Can you ask Ari how he would feel if Valery joined us?”

Smiling, Jan approached Ari and asked him quietly. Ari looked at them curiously and replied to Jan, who chortled. “Ari says, can you persuade Ville to join us? He’s the one with the flute.”

Maxim and Valery studied the young man sitting across them and shared a grin. “Not bad.”

“Ari, guut ide!”

“Yes, he has taste!”

“Should we sing the song of Thorvald?” Maxim asked, smiling at Ari. “Ari taught it to me last night. I think it’s my favourite.”

Karl and Ari started beating the rhythm while Jan went to find Ville for them. Maxim smiled at him brightly. He felt like an ancient god of love! Come morning, Ari and Ville would be partners. He would make sure of that!


	86. Chapter 86

14th 

Nikolaj smiled at his darling. “I will join you later, my Love,” he said. “Since Vasya wants to interview me for his manual now,” he grinned. 

Elik nodded. “I understand.”

What a most perfect husband he had! Nikolaj leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Till later, My Love.”

“Till Later, Husband.”

The moment Elik turned his back to go to his carriage, he looked at the Guard behind Vasya. Even though he knew very well that they had been chosen based on their looks as well as their skills, it was still amazing to him how handsome they all were. “Will your Escort join us, Your Excellency?” he grinned. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Vasya’s expression was calm. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“That is not a good answer, Sire. Why?”

“Will you ask ‘why’ until you are satisfied?” Why was he allowing this? “We ask because We ask, and that is that.”

Vasya bowed slightly. “As you wish. No, he will not. You may go, Vadim.”

Nikolaj watched him leave. “Honestly, how can you and Elik resist such temptations every day? Did you see that ass?” he asked the moment they were both in his carriage. 

“No,” Vasya replied brusquely. “Besides,” he smiled softly, “Ever since I saw Grisha, I never saw anyone else, or their ass.”

“Really?”

“What do you think?” Vasya asked him seriously before laughing. “In all honesty, I have noticed their asses and assets only because they are hard to miss, but Sire, don’t you think a joke that goes on for days stops being funny after a while?”

Nikolaj’s smile widened. “That’s why you wanted to interview me. Not my battle tactics but my little joke. Why I can’t I have some fun, Vasya?”

Vasya looked at him seriously. “Because your joke has been making Grisha uncomfortable for days, and now it makes His Majesty.”

“Your brother.”

He nodded.

Nikolaj smiled again. While at the West, Elik had managed to create his own, small faction, it seemed; how lucky for him that it was led by Vasya. Someone else might be trying to turn his darling against him; Vasya tried to make him stop joking. Vasya really took his responsibility as big brother to his Elik very seriously. “You have to admit, they both look so cute when they are frustrated.”

“I wouldn’t know. I try not to frustrate Grisha,” he said earnestly. “I know I do, but never willingly, at least.”

“Aren’t you tired of being so perfect?”

“I’m not perfect,” he snorted. “But I am not tired of trying hard, if that is what you are asking,” he smiled. “If I may be completely honest, Sire.”

He nodded.

“Do you really want to sleep with one of the Guards? Or my Grisha?”

Nikolaj shivered. Ah, he really was still his little Vasya, moving forward no matter what, and being so honest about what he felt, looking at him with curiosity and sounding troubled. “I don’t know about Grisha,” he replied frankly. “He is very handsome,” he said, and saw Vasya narrow his eyes in anger for a moment. “But he is your Grisha, and always has been,” he smiled. “And…” He suddenly sat next to Vasya and hugged him tightly, surprised at how easily Vasya relaxed in his embrace. “And you are my Vasya.” His Mark’s favourite little cousin, and so his own little cousin. 

“I am not,” he whispered. “Your Vasya is from a life that is over.”

“That life may be over, but you still address me with the same openness that you did when you were young.” He smiled. “I’m sorry for hurting your Grisha,” he said. “Will you forgive me?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” 

He opened his arms and Vasya slid out of them but stayed close to him. “And the Guards?”

“They are also very handsome. I wouldn’t mind sleeping with one or two, or all of them. Not at the same time. Separately.”

Vasya grinned at that. “The Guards all see His Majesty as their Brother, Sire, and would never betray him. You will be disappointed if you approach them.”

Nikolaj laughed. “I know. Ah, if I am honest, I am glad Elik has such loyal Guards and brothers.”

Vasya smiled. 

“I don’t know why I do it,” he said honestly. “You are right; a joke that continues for days is not funny anymore, and I do know that Elik doesn’t like it, but it amuses me so to see him frustrated. He looks so pretty when he is angry!”

“So, you know why you do it,” Vasya told him. “Perhaps it is like the things Cousin Mark likes. You need to talk about them, and decide on what to use and when.”

“Excuse me?”

“You like to make His Majesty mad, because you like him when he gets angry. And it is true, he has a hot temper. Many things make him mad,” he smiled. 

Nikolaj grinned, feeling desire stir inside him at the thought of Elik flushed with anger, eyes shining, breath fast, body tense and ready for action. Oh, yes, how he liked seeing Elik mad. And how Elik liked what happened after he saw him mad, he thought, and his cock started growing heavy. 

Vasya cleared his throat. “What if you talked about all the things that make him mad but truly hurt? Maybe even write a list, so that you will remember them better? Like, you wanting to sleep with someone else. That is hurtful to him, so you shouldn’t use it to make him mad. Use something safe, like how he hates when people can’t tell a barge from a boat. And if you really and honestly want to sleep with someone else, then discuss it with him earnestly.”

“I already have. He has forbidden it and I have agreed to it.”

“So, you tease him with that because you feel frustrated?” 

Nikolaj frowned. “I guess so. It is…” Ah, fuck it, they were discussing what they did in the bedroom anyway. “I like fucking, Vasya. Ideally between two and five times a day, or at least once! And with this campaign being what it is, a stroll in a country where we are welcomed with open arms, I haven’t had any action to make me excited. Truly, you must know it. Only the heat of battle releases more excitement in my body than fucking, and leaves me tired at the end of the day. I have been so frustrated for weeks,” he growled, “And suddenly he’s here, with his handsome Guards, and this campaign remains a joke, but we still must continue until Fredrik decides to engage us in battle or surrenders when he sees us outside his capital, and all I am thinking is, I could be fucking right now.”

Vasya nodded, his expression calm and unchanged. He was his Mark’s cousin; one could tell him anything and he wouldn’t be shocked. “Why don’t you?”

Vasya couldn't be shocked, but he definitely could. “Excuse me?” 

“Your One and Only is here, and your carriage is as good as a private room with the door closed. If your reconnaissance teams do not give you any causes for concern and you do not expect to be attacked….” Vasya smiled. “I know it sounds unprofessional, but if your reconnaissance teams really do their work – and I know they do – you should know whether you are likely to engage in a battle during the day. And if you want to be sure, send another team ahead now, so you can know what to expect in the evening.”

Nikolaj stared at him. He could send small, multiple teams during the day for the purpose of reconnoitering, and with orders never to engage in skirmishes. That way, he could have an even more detailed picture of what lay ahead than he already had. Not that he expected anything to happen until they reached closer to the capital by that point. Had Fredrik given up the fight? 

“And,” Vasya continued calmly as if he hadn’t just told him to use light cavalry units so he could put time in his schedule for fucking his darling uninterrupted, (which he should have expected – the man was a Bosilik and Mark’s cousin!) “If having other partners really is such a big issue for you, then you must talk to him about it.”

“But I did.”

“Such discussions need not happen once. I would suggest something else, though.”

“What?”

“If it is variety you seek, then why not discuss that with your One and Only? Perhaps what you need is not more partners but more…” He suddenly blushed.

“Ropes and whips and dominance?” Nikolaj grinned.

“Not those, but…other things. One need not follow the Path of Pain, as Cousin Mark does. There are other paths. We like flowers,” he whispered, reddening even more. “And whipped cream. Desserts and sweet things in general.”

No wonder Vasya and Grisha had become so excited when talking of ‘cream’ when they met! Nikolaj raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“You should let Love guide you.”

He huffed. “Vasya, in the name of the friendship we shared, and that I hope that still exists between us, please, explain.”

Vasya continued blushing. “Have you never shared a fruit with him?” he asked. “Bitten it and let him take a bite while you hold it in your mouth? Or put whipped cream and licked it from your lover’s body? Or caressed him with flowers?”

Nikolaj’s eyes widened. Truly, Vasya deserved the title of Teacher. “Vasya, that is the manual you should be writing! What else?” He took out his notebook and pencil. “I am listening! What else should I use?”

&*&*

Thomas played with Evgeni’s hair. “What’s troubling you, Husband?”

“Something His Majesty’s Guards said. Thomas,” he said softly, sitting up from where he was lying on Thomas’ lap, “If you were to be posted at Bosilke, what would my responsibilities be, as your husband?”

“That is…” Thomas shrugged. “I don’t know. A diplomat’s wife or husband is not supposed to work; their duty is to help with whatever event the Embassy organizes, be the host or hostess, if they are an ambassador’s spouse, or help them with anything they need, if they are the spouse of anyone else in the Embassy. But, frankly, I don’t care. I want you to be happy, and since I will not be the Valentin Ambassador at Bosilke, who cares if you help or not with official functions?”

“But if you were?”

“Then…” Thomas shook his head. “It doesn’t matter much. I wasn’t married at Ustvela, and so I was the host. Sometimes, Arbelle, the military attaché’s wife, helped. We will make it work.” He grinned. “That was what has been worrying you all day yesterday?”

Evgeni nodded. “His Majesty’s Guards implied that I should resign and be your helpful husband.” 

“Genya, if I get posted at Bosilke, no one will want you to resign. Not my King, nor His Highness, the Duke. Don’t you understand?”

“No.”

“You are one of His Majesty’s Special Guards. No one is closer to His Majesty than one of you, except for your Captain, and His Imperial Majesty, his husband. No, my King would think it an advantage that you are so close to him and have His Majesty’s ear, while His Highness would probably think the same. They may disagree over matters of civil law, but these two brothers are as one when it comes to the benefit of Valentin.”

Evgeni smiled. “His Majesty would never listen to me.”

“They don’t know that, though, do they?” Thomas winked at him. 

Evgeni laughed. “So, you want to pretend that you are letting me be a Guard so you can use me for my connections?” 

Thomas’ eyes opened wide. “Ah, if only I had used that argument for marrying you, instead of being honest and saying that I fell in love with you and couldn’t live without you.”

Evgeni continued laughing! The Imperial Guards had been so wrong, and how he loved Thomas when he said he loved him!

&*&*

Elik smiled at his husband. “I like ‘no resistance’,” he said as they hugged and he felt Nikolaj’s hard cock burn against his naked skin. Even at that moment, hours after they had been welcomed into the town by a cheering crowd and just returned from a ball given by the Mayor where they were the guests of honour, he still couldn’t believe how easy everything was. 

Nikolaj grinned at him. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

“I also like sleeping on a bed proper. Not that I might your campaign bed. It’s so narrow, we have to sleep holding each other,” he shivered, full of pleasure at the thought. “How soundly I sleep in your arms, My Love.”

Nikolaj rubbed the tip of his nose against Elik’s. “Darling, I like it too, but I too enjoy a proper bed. Especially when you are in it.” He held him tightly by the waist, lifted him up against him, and carried him to the bed, much to his delight. 

“My Nikolaj,” he gasped as his husband lay him down, “I love you so.”

“So do I, my Love.” Nikolaj looked at him with a soft expression as he stood up. “Just wait there.”

Elik nodded and stretched. Oh, how soft this bed was. “Who taught you Oerestandish? I really liked your speech to the townspeople.”

“Major Kamenski,” Nikolaj grinned as he returned holding a rose from the bouquet that the Mayor’s youngest daughter had given to him earlier. “Apparently, he has a southern Oerestand accent and now so do I. Queen Adelaide thought it was charming,” he said as he sat next to him. 

“I also think it’s charming,” Elik smiled. “Say something to me in Oerestandish, my Love.”

“I don’t know it that well. I can give you my speech again.”

Elik laughed. “No, thank you. It is a stirring speech, but not appropriate to the bedroom.”

Nikolaj laughed with him.

“Husband? Won’t you lie with me? And maybe speak to me in Valentinois? I like your accent there too. You speak it with such charm!”

Nikolaj stared at him with a half-smile. “You like it when I speak to you in other languages?” He asked him in Valentinois, caressing his cheek with the rose, the touch velvet soft. 

Elik nodded, closing his eyes and leaning into it. How delicate the scent of the flower. How tender his Nikolaj’s hand. “Yes, my Love,” he told him in Valentinois, smiling.

“Ah, my sweet heart,” he heard Nikolaj’s smile. “Tonight, I want to please you.”

“Whatever pleases you, pleases me.”

“How well our pleasures coincide, then.”

“But Husband, shouldn’t you do your homework first?” Elik asked, looking at him. 

Nikolaj stopped and stared at him, shocked. He started laughing seconds later. “Oh, Darling, how I missed you. Really, you want me to do my homework first before you fuck me?” He made to get up. 

Elik grabbed his wrist. “On second thought, homework can wait. I too skipped it on occasion.”

“Darling,” Nikolaj said in a low, seductive tone, caressing his jaw with the rose. “How glad I am you allow me this!”

He shivered as the flower slid gently and slowly along his neck. “I will allow you everything as long as you continue this.”

Nikolaj leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, his lips firmer than the flower, his breath hot whereas the rose had been cool. “Correction,” he gasped. “I will allow you everything as long as you continue this. Kiss me, My Nikolaj.”

When Nikolaj obliged him, he closed his eyes again. When he knew that Nikolaj trusted him completely, then he’d be the happiest of husbands. When would that marvelous day come? Oh, but until then, how pleased he would be with what Nikolaj did.

He really couldn’t wait to fuck him. Ah, it had been too long! How he had missed his Nikolaj! How he had missed fucking him. 

&*&*

Vasily leaned against the window. “What are they singing again?”

“It’s a song about the divine singer Thorvald,” Grisha said from where he was sitting on the bed, “And how he played music so well that even giants came to listen to him. One of them came too close and tried to eat him, but Thorvald smashed his lyre on his head and killed him.”

“Sounds charming,” Vasily laughed. “Can you teach it to me?”

“Of course.” Grisha took out his notebook and started writing the words. 

“I think it’s Maxim’s favourite song,” Vasily smiled. “He’s the one who keeps starting it. This is the third night in a row that he does it. No, second. The first time, it was one of the others.”

“I am amazed he’s managed to get so many to sing it.”

“I think he’s using your method. He gets his friends to do it, and they get their friends, and they theirs, and so on. Besides,” he grinned. “He’s Maxim. He can do anything.”

“I bet you say that for all the Guards,” Grisha laughed. He stood up and came to stand next to him. The next moment, he too climbed on the windowsill and looked out. “This is such a strange campaign. Is Fredrik really that unpopular?”

“You tell me. You were the one who actually managed to spend some time talking to people here. Even when we progressed slowly with the Youth of Jedlowa, I was too busy to talk to anyone but His Majesty, the Guards, or the young people,” he snorted. 

Grisha smiled at him. “You sound grouchy.”

“I am sorry. This morning, His Majesty asked my opinion on matters intimate after I tried to persuade him to stop joking about wanting to sleep with you and the Guards. And this evening, they made me tell them another story.” He sighed. “I don’t know what my duties are anymore. And I don’t like it that no one respects that we are on leave, making you write that manual, and making me entertain them every evening.” 

“I like your stories,” Grisha smiled at him. 

“I don’t mind telling them either, but I would like to hear someone else tell a story for a change.” Ah, he was whining.

Grisha jumped down, approached him and hugged him. “Poor Vasya, made to work when he wants to play.” He laughed. “Siuta Vasiuka, if we did nothing while on leave, you’d be bored. You know it. And… tell me, of what matters intimate did you discuss with His Majesty? And does he really want to sleep with me? And…” Grisha caressed his cock over his breeches. “And will you fuck me tonight again, Siuta Vasiuka? I have missed your dick.”

“Just my dick?” He grinned. 

“No,” Grisha laughed, “but right now, that’s what I want. Siuta Vasiuka? Fuck me while you talk of intimate things! Tell me a story just for me!”

How could he resist?


	87. Chapter 87

15th 

His Majesty approached them, and they both bowed. “Stop being so formal,” he grinned. The next moment, he grabbed Vasya in a hug. In front of everyone! His Imperial Guards, the Guards, the other soldiers. “Teacher,” he told Vasya, “Thank you.”

Vasya stared at him horrified, while His Majesty continued smiling as he let him go. Then he turned to Grigori, and to him he bowed slightly. “Grisha, please accept my apology.”

Not that again! “For what this time?” 

His Majesty came even closer. “For joking that I want to sleep with you,” he whispered. “I…” He glanced at Vasya. “I am sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

His Majesty grinned. “Thank you.” He turned to Vasya again. “Think again about that manual, Vasya. I think you would provide a great service to every married Bosilik.”

Vasya looked even more shocked.

“Well, this is good, but I have to go back to my carriage and… do official stuff.” He almost skipped and jumped as he hurried to the front of the carriage procession. 

Grigori stayed quiet until they were inside their carriage. “Siuta? What intimate things exactly did you tell him?” he asked grinning as he wrapped himself around his husband. “And why does he want you to write a manual about them?”

Vasya made a low noise. It took him a few moments to realise that Vasya was trying not to laugh. 

“Husband?”

“I am an army officer. How did I become an advisor on marital relationships?”

Grigori started laughing. “Well, why not? You are a romance hero, after all.”

Vasya let out a shout, scaring him. “The stories! Grisha, I have not shown you the stories.”

Grisha hugged Vasya even more tightly as he grinned. “Stories about us by Her Excellency! Now, I have seen anything!” He looked at Vasya as he let him go. Vasya started looking for the stories in his traveling bag. This was the second day in a row that he was complaining about work. “Siuta?”

“Yes?” 

He sat sideways on the seat. “Why don’t you lie here,” he said, patting his thigh, “And I will read out the stories to us?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Last night, you wanted someone else to tell a tale, and today I am offering. Will you refuse me?”

“No, never.”

“Good.” He wondered if perhaps Vasya needed more rest. His husband had been sleeping well, he’d made sure of that, but Vasya had been worried so much before coming to find him, and His Majesty’s jokes had not made life easier for them these last days. “Ah, kitten,” he sighed as Vasya handed him the stories and settled against him.

Vasya made a soft, questioning sound, almost like a cat’s meow. 

How had Luck brought them to this? But, she had, and there was no changing it. “How I wish for Luck to let us walk together for the rest of our lives. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They smiled at each other. “So, let us see… from which one should I start?”

&*&*

Elik closed his eyes as he relaxed in his husband’s embrace. “Last night,” he whispered. “Was so wonderful. Ah, husband. Remember how you would feed me with your own hands when you first married me?”

Nikolaj huffed, as if he were smiling. “And remember how…” He stopped. “Elik?”

He opened his eyes and looked at him. “Yes, Husband?”

“I am so glad you agreed to marrying me properly.”

“So am I.” He wouldn’t have all his body parts if he hadn’t, after all, and those parts that tradition would have destroyed, could bring such pleasure. “You won me with your kindness,” he smiled. “And your tenderness.”

“And you won me with your presence.”

Elik smiled. 

Nikolaj continued staring at him as if he studied him. 

“Is there something on my nose?” Elik asked him.

“No, My Love,” Nikolaj laughed. He rubbed his nose tip against his, in that soft, intimate gesture that was as sweet as a kiss. “Your nose is perfect. I was just thinking.”

“Yes?”

“How happy I am that you joined me in this campaign, even though I still feel you would have served Our interests better if you were at home. A Bosilik wife rules at home, after all.”

“But I am not an ordinary wife. I am your husband, and your Equal, the one to share your burdens and your joys.”

“And you share them by being at home while…” He grinned. “Ah, why am I protesting when at the sight of you, my whole body shivered, and every time I see you next to me, I want to pinch myself and reassure me that I am not dreaming? I want you here, despite my words.”

“Then, do not say that you wish I were home. Next time you are on a campaign, and if Luck still keeps joined in marriage, we will discuss this again. For now, let us both be glad we are together.”

“Why do you say ‘if Luck keeps us joined in marriage’, My Love?”

Elik snorted. “There is nothing like having people trying to kill you to make you realise how short life is.” Perhaps that was why Vasya too had decided to forgive everyone and let love be the guiding principle in his life. Life was too short for fear or anger. “I want us to live together as much and as well as we can, and create our own way of being partners.”

Nikolaj nodded. “There is nothing I want more, darling. Elik, I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

“What makes you mad.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, Darling,” Nikolaj sighed and looked at him with wonder, “You are so beautiful when you are angry. It is a sight most arousing. Tell me, what would make you angry enough to be arousing, but not so much as to be hurt?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, people who can’t tell barges from boats?

Elik huffed. “Those idiots! A barge has a flat bottom! It’s such a big difference! How can they miss it? Furthermore…”

Nikolaj didn’t let him continue. He cut him off with a kiss. Ah, so that’s what he meant! Elik would have laughed if he weren’t busy kissing him. Hm, what were the things that would make him so mad so that Nikolaj would want to please him? Hm, he’d think about it later. Nikolaj’s kisses made his whole body burn and his mind drift. He couldn’t think of anything. 

&*&*

His secretary opened the door to his office. “Your Grace?”

Mark groaned as he lifted his head from Alec’s reply to the letter he’d sent him that morning together with the warrants for the Barianins’ arrest. The man was complaining that technically, Mark was not their commander at that moment, and could not order him to guide the Reds against the Barianins, but of course he would do it, but could he have a few mortars? And be allowed to choose who would join them, as he needed men who would be able to conduct a siege? And take everything he would need for a siege? The Reds had not taken part in a siege since the reign of Ivan IV! Fuck, everyone could see it; the Barianins would not surrender. 

Ungrateful bastards. 

His secretary coughed. 

“What is it?”

“His Grace, Duke Stanjinski, requests an audience.”

“What? Let him in!”

His secretary nodded and opened the door in time for someone to push Sasha in. Mark gasped as he saw him. Sasha had grown! Well, of course he had, but he had really grown! He was as tall as he was, although he was still as gangly as he’d been as an adolescent. And he’d definitely outgrown all the horrible pimples of his adolescence that had hidden his face. He was like his father, Mark realised the more he looked at him; he not only did he have Uncle Pavel’s dark hair and blue eyes, but also the same sharp, angular features that were not handsome, but not ugly either. No, just like Uncle Pavel, Sasha was striking!

And he was made even more striking by his choice of costume, a shirt with lacy sleeves that covered his fingers completely, worn under a long, blue and silver robe tied at the waist with a heavy silver belt with pearls that looked ancient. Even more strange was his single pearl earring on his right earlobe. What had he been doing up North? 

Sasha gave him a panicked look, turned around, found the door closed and turned to face him again. “Traitors,” he muttered under his breath. 

“I hope you don’t mean me,” Mark said as he stood up, crossed his office and hugged Sasha tightly. “Oh, Sasha, I am so glad you are back. So glad!”

Sasha sighed deeply as he relaxed into his arms. “Cousin Mark, you must help me!” he cried.

Mark bit his lips. He’d really hoped Sasha had outgrown that part of his childhood and youth. He took out his handkerchief and gave it to him. 

Sasha sniffled as Mark led him to the couch beside the door. 

“What happened, Cousin Sasha?”

Sasha continued crying, making Mark unable to do anything. He really wanted to tell Sasha to stop crying and talk to him, but he also couldn’t stop hugging him and trying to soothe him. 

“I went home,” Sasha finally said in a broken voice. 

“And?”

“Everything is gone, Mark.” Sasha gave him a despondent look, his dark, blue eyes wide and full of misery. “Everything.”

“What? Sasha, start from the beginning, please.”

Sasha wiped his nose, and nodded. “Once I got His Majesty’s pardon I came here as fast as I could and… Oh, Mark, I had missed my home so much that, even though I was resolved to first come here and ask you to help me talk to Vasya and Grisha, I couldn’t help myself. I had to go there first.” He sniffled. “Mark, it’s … it’s not home anymore. I found all the doors and the windows broken, the furniture and portraits either gone or destroyed or burned, and everything that could be taken, has been taken.”

Mark shivered. What?

“They broke into Father’s cellar, and into Mama’s rooms, and even my room has been….” Sasha started crying again, trying to burrow into Mark’s embrace. 

What? Mark pushed him away. “How?” 

Sasha shrugged. 

“Didn’t you get any reports from your manager? You got money from your property, didn’t you?”

Sasha stood up, opened the door and let in two young men, one more burly than the other, and two curvaceous young women dressed in the strangest costumes he had ever seen. The men wore lacy shirts, leather red coats that barely reached to their thighs, tight black leather breeches and red leather boots. The women wore the same! 

One of the young women sighed. “I hate wearing clothes. Now that we’ve been seen, can I take them off?”

“Not yet, Masha.”

She sighed petulantly. “Yes, Master.”

“Cousin Mark, these are my most trusted servants and bedmates: Martin,” the ash-blond thinner man of the two bowed, “Karl,” the light blond strapping young man smiled, “Masha,” the red-hair who’d complained winked as she curtsied, “And Nadya,” the brunette gave him a not. “They can answer all your questions about the management of my estate and the payments we got from my managers here, because, frankly, Cousin Mark, I am devoted to my art, and I cannot deal with such lowly matters,” he said proudly.

“You were just crying that your home has been broken into and everything in it destroyed,” Mark said, trying to keep his frustration back.

“Oh, yes, because that’s different,” he sniffled lightly, and Karl and Masha immediately hugged him.

“What questions do you have, Your Grace?” Martin asked him. 

Mark covered his face with his hands. He had many questions, but he also had to go to lunch. “Later,” he told them. “Cousin Sasha, it is lunch time, and as Chancellor, I must make an appearance. Will you join me?”

Sasha grimaced, but Karl whispered something to him. “Yes, Cousin Mark, I would be delighted,” he said, still looking chagrined. Karl and Nadya let him go. Karl pushed him forward when he refused to move. 

Mark bit back a sigh. “Cousin Sasha, these four,” he asked as he led him out of his office, “Are they…” No, that wasn’t the right way to ask. He thought about it for a few moments. “Why do they call you ‘Master’?”

“Because they are my slaves.”

How he had hoped that these had been rumours. “Maybe you could free them?”

He heard the four of them gasp behind them, shocked and outraged. “We don’t want to be free,” one of the women whispered. 

“Master feeds us, clothes us, fucks us, trusts us. We are happy with Master Sasha,” one of the men said. 

“Especially when he fucks us,” Nadya giggled.

Sasha glared at him. “You want to take my lovelies away from me, you beast?”

“No, but… Vasya will not like it. He has no slaves, and neither have I.”

Sasha stared at him. “He really has no slaves?”

“No, no slaves and no servants either.”

“How does he manage?” he asked loudly over the gasps of The Four, as Mark decided to call them collectively instead of trying to remember who was who. 

“As he would say, ‘very well’,” Mark laughed. “Besides, the world is changing, Cousin Sasha. Soon, slavery will be a thing of the past.”

“What?” The Four shouted. 

“Where will we go?” One of the women hugged Sasha. “I don’t want to leave Master.”

“No one is leaving me, my darlings,” Sasha huffed. “Cousin Mark is being annoying.”

He tried not to glare at Sasha. “How can you write a story with a character who is against slavery when you refuse to free your slaves?”

“That was a character. Slavery is part of our traditions, and it is our responsibility as educated owners to keep our slaves happy and satisfied.”

Mark shook his head and decided not to reply. His resolve lasted for a moment only. “I thought you were against slavery.”

“I was, when I was young. Then I grew up, and realised my obligations towards my slaves. Aren’t I a good Master?”

Mark took a very deep breath. Sasha was either oblivious or an idiot. 

“Yes, and Master is always good to his slaves,” one of the women said in a low, seductive voice. 

“And keeps us very satisfied,” one of the men said slyly.

“And we take care of all his affairs, because Master is hopeless,” the other woman giggled. 

“Poor Master, we can’t leave him,” the other man said.

“That is true,” Sasha nodded. “I would be lost without them. Mark, don’t take my slaves away from me,” he begged loudly just as they entered the banquet hall, making heads turn towards them. 

Mark stopped. “May I present you with Duke Stanjinski, who is back with us after so long?”

Sasha made an elaborate bow. “Greetings.”

People started murmuring loudly as they moved towards Mark’s seat. 

“He’s the Head of the Main Branch?”

“Why is he dressed like that?”

“What about his escorts?”

“They might as well be naked.”

“Can I take my clothes off now, then?” Masha repeated. 

“No,” both he and Sasha said. 

Mavra stood up as they reached the head of the table. All the Stanjinskis in the room emulated her. He counted fifteen, out of the fifty that were there for lunch. They were a big family. “Sir, we gladly welcome you back,” she said as she curtsied, and every Stanjinski either bowed or curtsied. 

Sasha huffed. “You may, but I…” He glanced behind him at the Four and they stared back.

“You can do it, Master,” Masha said encouragingly.

“We will support you.”

“Yes, you have us.”

“Tell them,” Nadya said last.

Mark shivered and looked at Ekaterina. This was not what he had expected. 

“I am not your Leader. You may want to be an army, but I refuse to play war, either at court or the battlefield,” he shouted, making everyone, not just the Stanjinskis, gasp. “I came here to speak to my brother and make peace with him, not to be the Head of the Family. Cousin Mark,” he cried out, grabbing his hands, “I don’t want to be the Head. I can’t. I won’t do it. Take this responsibility from me, please.”

The Four started clapping. “Well done, Master!”

“Sir, you cannot not be the Head,” Mavra said sharply, glaring at him. “I knew this would happen,” she hissed angrily at Dima, “but publicly too?”

“Yes, I can. Or cannot. You see how you confuse me that even the tools of my art abandon me? I cannot be the Head. I,” he said even more loudly and standing proud, “I am a Writer! My life is devoted to Art. Not to dealing with you all and your demands.”

“How dare you?” Several of the men shouted at the same time. 

Sasha tried to hide behind Mark. “I made them angry,” he said stupidly.

“You did.”

The two men clapped once. “Be quiet,” they shouted. “Master Sasha is an artist; you can’t shout at him like that.”

“Yes, he is a very sensitive person, and you are hurting him,” one of the women complained.

Mark shook his head, giving up on even trying to understand what was going on between Sasha and the Four. They were not Master and slaves in any sense!

“Yes,” Sasha said. “I was not raised to be the Head. That was Vasa. Cousin Mark, Cousins of the Four Branches, you have to make him the Head. I don’t want to be that!” he started crying.

Mavra groaned. “I knew this would happen.” She picked up the bottle from the servant behind her and started drinking from it as she sat down. 

“Besides, I will be a bad Head,” Sasha continued. “I already let my home turn to ruins. No, you want a Head who will be responsible, and let me continue doing what I do best! Writing erotic fiction with some commentary on the wrongs of this society.”

Mark’s knees couldn’t support him. In the silence, he crashed on the chair behind him. How much of an idiot was he? He was part of what was wrong with society just by keeping slaves! 

“What do you mean, you let your home turn to ruins?” Adam asked quietly.

“They broke into it and took or destroyed everything, from the cellar to the attic.”

“The cellar?” Pavel shouted. “That held the finest wine collection in Bosilke!”

“It’s gone,” Sasha told them, shaking his head mournfully. “It’s all gone.” He looked at Mark. “Cousin Mark, if I am Head, I will have to rebuild my home and…” he started crying again. “I can’t bear the sight of it. Oh, it was so horrible.”

The Four hugged him immediately and he continued crying.

Mark glanced at Mavra. “You knew of this?” he mouthed.

She nodded, looking ashamed. 

Mark groaned and Ekaterina placed an arm over his shoulders. “It will be fine,” she reassured him.

“How? He’s even more of an idiot now than he was in the past!” he whispered to her. 

The Four suddenly let go of Sasha and he fell to his knees. “Cousin Mark, Chancellor, take my role away from me. I don’t want to head that family of war-mongers, nor can I go home again. Not before someone fixes it. Someone who is not me!”

“We don’t want you as Head either,” one of the younger Stanjinskis shouted. “You are a disgrace to the family name.”

“And what are these four behind you?”

“My slaves and bedmates. I refuse to be marry and breed like you do, and commit to One Person. Love is to be shared.”

“You have slaves?”

“Shame on you.”

“We like being Master Sasha’s slaves,” one of the women shouted shrilly. “We are his caretakers.”

“And his managers.”

“And his models.”

“And his team! We work well together.”

Sasha stood up and hugged them. “I am nothing without them,” he declared. “My lovelies. My inspiration. My muses!”

“Master,” the Four sighed happily and began exchanging kisses. 

“At least he’s against monogamy?” Adam tried to console him.

Mark sighed deeply. This was such a disaster. “Cousin Sasha, stop kissing and sit down.”

With a sound full of protest, Sasha let them go and sat to his right. 

“Why did you do this here, of all places?”

Mavra snorted. “To force us all to accept his decision not to be the Head.”

“And to reveal your hypocrisy,” Sasha said.

“What hypocrisy?” Ekaterina sighed. “Cousin Sasha, you only revealed your incompetence. You let your home fall to ruins.”

Sasha sniffled. “Did you have to bring this up again?”

Mark stood up and everyone fell quiet. “No one is to mention what happened to the Stanjinski ancestral home again, you hear me?”

Mavra huffed. “You are going to let that fool lead us?”

“I don’t want to lead you either,” Sasha shouted at her. “You all think you are an army, and the Head is your Commander. I refuse to be that. War is….”

Mark put his hand over Sasha’s mouth. “Shut up, Cousin. We are at war; in case you have forgotten.”

“We are always at war. If we wait for peace to protest against it, we will wait forever.”

The silence that followed that statement was absolute. 

“Speaking of war, where is Vasya?”

“At the front, with his Husband.”

Sasha gasped. “Why did you let him go here? The front is dangerous!”

Mark shook his head. “I give up,” he sighed as he sat down and motioned the servants to start bringing their meal.

“Cousin Mark, I thought you looked after Vasa,” Sasha continued, sitting down and grabbing him. “How could you?”

“If he remains the Head of the Main Branch,” Mavra hissed, “I will renounce myself and stop calling myself a Stanjinski.”

“Same here.”

“I will do the same.”

Mark sighed. Great. After the old and noble Houses of the Barianins and the Milkiutins, they were about to lose one more House. And that was all thanks to Sasha, who couldn’t tell him that he wanted to resign from Head in private. The fool! 

Ekaterina patted his left hand, and looked at him full of sympathy. 

Sasha touched his right hand. “There must be a way to make Vasya the Head again, right?” he asked him, looking at him full of hope. “And, you will help me go to the front and talk to him? Cousin Mark, I need his forgiveness. I can’t wait if he returns, nor can I stay at that place that used to be our home. Cousin Mark, help me!”

At least Sasha’s heart was in the right place, he told himself. What a disaster. He should have listened to Mavra and kept Sasha as far away from Ivanhof as possible! At least, until they figured out how on earth to give Vasya back his birth right. What a disaster! 

&*&*

Filon closed the doors of the Main Hall the moment everyone was in.

“Brother, we are not courtiers to stop our work for tea,” Roman told him. “Why have you summoned us?”

“Have you not heard the news? The Captain’s brother is back!”

“What?”

Artyom put his hands over his ears, while Filon gestured for them to lower their voiced. Ah, they were loud! 

“And he’s….” Filon shook his head. How best to describe the Captain’s brother? 

“Handsome, but stupid,” Artyom snorted. 

“And vain,” Filon smiled.

“And he cried a lot. He is strange!”

“Start from the beginning,” Sila shouted. “How does he look like?”

“And what did he do?”

“What did he say?”

“We have to know.”

“That’s… that’s not the right question to ask first,” Peter the Tall said, grinning.

“Really? Which is it?”

“Where does he stay so we can go visit him?”

“What?”

“We can’t!”

“Why not?”

Stepan raised his hand. “I have an idea. Let’s bake him a welcome-home cake, and take it to him.”

Roman immediately kissed him and hugged him. 

Filon and Artyom shared a look. It was not the subtlest thing in the world, but it would work. “Who’s in favour of making him a cake?”

They all raised their hands. 

“What kind of cake?”

“I know,” Vanya laughed. “Remember that pie the Young Lord had made for us at Sorain with the help of the Captain? Or…the honey cake!”

Filon felt his mouth water. “Both are good, Brothers.”

“Why not both, then?” Asei smiled. 

They nodded. “To the Kitchens, my Brothers!” Vanya shouted, still laughing.

“To the Kitchens!”

&*&*

Sasha let out a deep sigh the moment Martin closed the door of their bedroom. 

“Your Cousin Mark must really love you,” Nadya said as she looked around the room. “He gave you a whole suite of rooms to stay.”

“It’s only for tonight,” Karl grinned. “Tomorrow, we ride!”

Masha threw her shirt on the chair, over her other clothes, and hugged him. “I was so proud of you. You managed not to call your brother ‘imperial dog’,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. 

Martin nodded. “Yes, I too was so worried you’d say it.”

He sighed again. “It was hard not to. I know he’s not… but I have been saying it for so long, it was really hard not to,” he whined. 

Martin caressed his arm. “What if you wrote him a story?”

“He didn’t like romances when he still lived with us. Only history and philosophy. And whatever his tutors made him learn.” He sat on the edge of the bed and Masha and Nadya immediately came to sit next to him, curling their soft, warm bodies around his. Martin sat by his feet and Karl sat behind him a moment later. “He was so studious. Ah, what kind of a story should I write for him?”

“What if you wrote the history of the House Stanjisnki?” Karl asked him. 

“I don’t really know it,” Sasha told them. He found history so boring, and his family’s history was nothing but stories of warriors who had died for their king, or courtiers who had held the best parties in the Empire. He cared neither for war, nor partying. 

“We could go back to the house and see if there is anything…” Martin closed his mouth and looked at him sadly. 

“Yes, I too hate it when I see burned books,” he sighed. 

Masha and Nadya kissed him on the cheeks before Nadya turned to kiss Karl. Their kiss turned heated and he watched them caress each other for a few moments. 

Martin kissed him on the knee. “You couldn’t have done anything,” he told him in a soothing tone. 

“I know. But… I am certain that if Vasya were in my place, he would have done something.” He felt like crying. Vasya always knew what to do. 

“Cousin Mark will help you, won’t he?” 

“I hope so,” he nodded. How he hoped so. 

Vasya had been trained to be the Head of the Family since his infancy while he’d been left alone to do as he pleased. After Vasya left, he’d been so angry at everyone and everything to care about his inheritance. He’d seen it as a burden, and his opinion of it hadn’t changed. He’d been happy up North, where no one expected him to do anything. The moment they crossed the borders, it had hit him though; everyone would expect him to lead them. 

“I don’t want to Head that family,” he sniffled and started crying. 

Martin sighed for a moment, but then Masha began wiping his tears, Nadya kissed his hand and Karl his nape, while Martin made him spread his legs. Ah, what would he do without his darlings? What would they do without him? Could their war-mad Emperor really bring an end to slavery? What would he do then? 

Someone knocked on the door. Martin slid back and stared at him. 

With a deep sigh, he nodded. What if it were something important? They were guests at Ivanhof; they couldn’t do everything they wanted. 

Martin hurried and opened the door. 

A tall, blond, broad-shouldered young man in a dark blue uniform who looked like he’d stepped out of one his naughtier dreams stepped in the room. Sasha felt his mouth go dry with desire. Who was that? 

He took a step forward and he was followed by another handsome blond. And another. And another. 

“There are so many,” Martin shouted in exultation. “Hello, boys!” he said in his most low and lustful voice. 

Masha and Nadya gasped. “Hello!” They said with great interest. 

Karl gasped behind him. 

Sasha remained speechless. How many were there? And how handsome! All of them! If he started stroking himself, would that be rude? For a moment, he felt embarrassed that his nakedness showed to each and every one of these handsome men how much he appreciated them, but… he did! Why should he hide it? 

And, surprisingly, none of them seemed to bat an eyelid at the sight of his nakedness, or that of his bedmates. They kept coming into the room, squeezing wherever they could, until two ridiculously tall and burly young men came in at the front of a procession of more handsome men, all bringing dessert. 

“We have decided to bring you a little welcome gift,” one of the very tall men said in a deep rumble of a voice that made him shiver. “Since our Captain could not.”

“Who? What?”

One of the men stepped forward from where he was leaning against the wall and approached him. “Hello, I am Vanya, and my brothers and I are His Majesty’s Special Guards, serving under your brother. Since he is not here, we decided to welcome you in his place.”

Sasha looked at them. All these wonderful, handsome men had brought him cake because he was Vasya’s brother? He really wanted to cry. “Vasya is so lucky to have you,” he sniffled.

Masha gave him a handkerchief. 

“These rooms are small,” another of the men said. “Why don’t you get dressed, and we can all have tea and welcome-to-Ivanof cake in one of the drawing rooms?” 

“Must we get dressed?” Masha protested.

Several of the Guards looked at Masha. “We don’t care,” they sang.

“Master, can we stay naked?”

Sasha saw all the men stop and look at him, others with contempt, others with curiosity, and others with outright disgust. “The rumours are true? You are a slave-owner?” 

“You? Our freedom-loving Captain’s brother?” 

Sasha did feel embarrassed as he nodded.

“I am sorry, Brothers,” one of the Guards shouted. “I refuse to engage in discussion or anything else with slave-owners.”

“Haven’t you fucked Baroness Sheremetev? She has slaves.”

“That was different,” he hissed. “This we decided as free men, loyal to our Captain.”

Another of the men nodded. “He will be so disappointed when he hears that his own, dear brother has slaves.”

“Yes. Even his orderly complains that he’s often left with nothing to do because the Captains prefers to do everything himself.”

He did? “But we’ve always had slaves at Bosilke.”

“No, we did not.”

“Yes, when did the Captain say that this started?”

“After Bosilke’s expansion during the reign of King Yaroslav.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Slavery is against nature,” another of the men shouted. 

“You don’t deserve our cake,” the really tall man with the low voice said as he turned around.

“Wait, wait,” Sasha told them loudly and pleadingly. “Cousin Mark was serious? The end of slavery is coming? What will my lovies do? What will I?”

“You can free them and give them a salary for their services.”

“Yes, don’t you want to be free?”

“No,” his bedmates all shouted. “We like Master Sasha as is.”

“Told you, they were all weird,” one of the Guards who had been standing behind his cousin Mark mock-whispered. 

“It must run in the family,” another said and the Guards started laughing. 

“We like weird,” Vanya smiled. “But we really like freedom more, and the Captain will be very, very disappointed to learn that you own slaves.”

Sasha shuddered. If Vasya were disappointed in him, he wouldn’t forgive him. Worse, he might even give him a whole lecture on the history of slavery at Bosilke. No, no, no! He had to get Vasya’s forgiveness, so he could make him accept becoming Head of the Main Branch, however that might happen. He stood up. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed and find me a lawyer. I will free my lovelies before meeting Vasya. This, I swear.”

His lovelies started crying and he hugged them. “Oh, I will keep you as my employees, my dear hearts. Worry not, no one will part you from me. Only, from the next hour, you will be free.”

“That is weird,” Martin sighed. 

One of the Guards approached Martin. “Believe me,” he said, his expression showing that he returned Martin’s clear interest, “it is better to fuck free men, and, if you allow it, I will prove it to you.”

Sasha swallowed. “Will you prove it to me too?”

The Guards exchanged looks. “It is weird,” one of them muttered.

“You are the Captain’s Brother,” another whispered.

“It can be our secret,” Sasha said with a smile. 

They started laughing.

“Good luck keeping secrets from the Captain,” Vanya grinned.

“Well, it’s not like he’s the Captain’s father.”

“Ewwww,” Sasha grimaced together with everyone. 

“What are you waiting for?” One of them told him, pushing him lightly. “You have work to do, and then we will have tea and cake and fucks!”

“Hurrah!”

&*&*

Moments after the first course was served, a messenger came into the dining tent. Grigori tried not to laugh at His Majesty’s expression. How annoyed he looked.

“Yes, what news do you bring us?”

“An urgent letter, Your Majesty,” he said, bringing it to him. 

His Majesty nodded as he opened it. He read it quickly, gasping as his eyes skimmed the sheet. 

“What is it, Husband? You look uneasy,” His other Majesty said. 

He cleared his throat. “It is from Sasha. I mean, His Grace, Duke Stanjinski.”

Grigori was torn for a fraction of a second. Part of him wanted to lean over and read the letter in front of His Majesty. His concern for Vasya won. He reached for his hand and squeezed it. 

“What does he write?” Vasya asked softly.

“He asks to be forgiven for his misbehaviour,” he smiled. “Our messengers must have crossed each other. Yet… he wrote a story,” he said slowly.

This time, Grigori couldn’t help himself. “Is that it?” he asked, pointing towards the booklet under the letter.

“Yes.” 

“What is it?” His other Majesty asked. 

“I… I am afraid to see what he writes.”

“Please, Sire?” Maxim whispered from behind His Majesty, Elik.

They both nodded, and shared a smile. 

Vasya paled. “Maybe not now?”

His Majesty, Nikolaj, opened the booklet and started reading, Grigori and His Majesty, Elik, leaning over him and Maxim, Valery, Longin and Mir looking over his shoulders.

His Majesty, Elik, gasped a few moments into the story. 

His Majesty, Nikolaj, smiled widely. 

Grigori was stunned. Really? 

“Wow,” Mir gasped.

“Exactly,” Longin whispered.

His Majesty, Nikolaj, made to turn the page. 

“No, I have not finished reading yet,” Grigori and Maxim both said at the same time. 

His Majesty closed the booklet. “It feels like a story better saved for after dinner,” he smirked, while they made disappointed noises.

“I can read it out loud for everyone’s benefit,” Valery offered with a smile. 

“Remember that you were saying that you wanted someone else to tell a story?” Grigori said, touching Vasya’s arm. “You will get your wish,” he smiled.

“How bad is it?” Vasya asked him miserably.

“It’s not bad at all. But it is hilarious,” Grigori laughed. “I really have seen everything now!”

&*&*

Mark fell on the bed, exhausted and happier that dinner was over than he could ever say. How glad he was that Sasha hadn’t shown up for dinner. “Sasha is a monster,” he sighed. “A selfish, foolish, vain monster.”

Ekaterina smiled as she lay beside him and hugged him. “He’s as silly as he ever was. At least he has four people who seem to genuinely care for him.”

“I’m just glad he didn’t say anything against the Captain. I would have punched him if he had,” Filon growled, making Mark’s desire rise.

“I would have had to punish you if you had,” he said.

Artyom snorted. “I don’t think either of us would mind getting punished for punching someone who badmouthed the Captain.”

“That someone is his beloved brother,” Ekaterina said. 

“Hard to believe they are brothers,” Filon said, shaking his head, and looking full of disbelief. 

“I wonder, is the Captain as big as his brother?” Artyom whispered. 

Mark sat up. “What?”

Ekaterina also stared at them.

Filon and Artyom shared a look that clearly communicated that they had revealed something they shouldn’t have. 

“Out with it, boys,” Mark told them sternly. “If you don’t, I will order you to tell me.”

“Well… we made him a welcome-to-Ivanhof cake,” Artyom said after a moment’s thought.

Filon grinned, obviously embarrassed. “And… some of us ended up fucking him and his lovelies in the Blue Drawing Room.”

“After making him free them,” Artyom said emphatically.

“Yes, slavery is evil!” Filon shouted. 

“Well done,” Ekaterina laughed as she started clapping. “That is wonderful news!” She hugged Mark. “At least now we won’t have to worry about Sasha’s slave-owning practice!”

“Unless his lovelies sell themselves to him,” Filon said with a frown.

“Yes, they were keen on being slaves.”

“Strange creatures!”

Mark smiled. “Some people like to be slaves. Perhaps they too like their slavery.”

“Yes, but even those people are free the rest of the time.”

“Not all,” Mark smirked. 

Filon shook his head. “No, that’s not for me.”

“Yes, that’s not fun at all for me either.”

“If people like being slaves, then let them,” Ekaterina said. “But let them choose their slavery, and their bonds, and the conditions of it.”

“Any other slavery is abominable, and against nature,” Mark said.

“Yes, that we agree with,” Filon said. 

“But people must be free to choose slavery, and know exactly what it entails,” Artyom said. “A slave cannot choose slavery.”

How clever they were. Later, he would kiss them! “I wonder, though,” Mark snorted, “Should I punish you on behalf of the Guards who seduced my precious Cousin Sasha?”

“Your precious Cousin Sasha was very eager to be seduced,” Filon grinned. 

“And so were his lovelies. That said,” Artyom smiled, “I am in no mood to be punished tonight.”

“Me neither,” Filon said. “Instead of punishing us, why don’t you reward us for our honesty?”

“And making him free his slaves?”

What a great idea! Mark smiled. “Fine, boys, how do you want to be rewarded?”

Filon and Artyom looked at him in a way that made him shiver. Whatever his boys wanted to do, would be fun!

&*&*

Vasya grabbed Grigori’s hands the moment they were alone in their tent. “Husband,” he told him with urgency. 

“What is it?”

“We must write our story! Before someone else does. You heard what Sasha made of it. What if he does that again? Or someone else gets inspired by what we have both said over these weeks?”

Grigori smiled. “Does it matter that much to you?”

“Truth does. Besides,” he smiled, “His Majesty, Elik too wants to hear it. If you wouldn’t mind, we could share it with him.”

Aha, Grigori thought. Was it the truth Vasya wanted to serve, or his chosen little brother? He smiled, thinking about it. Did he want to share their story? 

“I was also thinking,” Vasya continued, “Sasha has no idea of the family history. He always hated learning about it, and I doubt he changed his mind when he became Father’s heir. Perhaps I should write it down. The Guards enjoyed hearing the story of the first Stanjinski who became a count after serving king Vasilko, but that story should be shared with the other Stanjinskis too, shouldn’t it? Furthermore, His Majesty, Elik, asked me to write my stories, and I was thinking, what if I wrote them for young people, in order to teach them?” He smiled a little. “They keep calling me ‘Teacher’, those young Jedlowans. What if did write some stories for them? With commentary or introduction?”

Grigori stared at Vasya. “Siuta? You want to spend your leave writing stories?”

He nodded. “I don’t think I have a choice, Grishka. Fantastical stories are one thing, but the idea of people writing lies about you is far too upsetting to me.”

Grigori felt his heart ache with love. Not his truth, but Grigori’s was the truth that Vasya wanted to preserve. “Siuta Vasiuka?”

“Yes, Grishka Grishuka?”

“What if we both wrote our story? I can write the manual when I am well, and not on leave, but now that I am still recovering, I could help you with it.”

Vasya hugged him. “You mean it?”

“Yes. And you can write your other stories whenever you want, but… let’s write our story for Sasha and His Majesty, Elik, first. That way, whenever we see Sasha, we can give that to him, and maybe he can understand why we had no choice?”

Vasya nuzzled him. “Grisha, my Grisha, thank you.”

“You are welcome. Now, how about thanking me in a different manner?”

“How?”

Grigori smiled. How, he asked. How, he would tell him! “We could play ‘Count and the Stable hand’?” he laughed at the top of his voice. “I bet everyone else will do so tonight! You could be the Count!” He had to hold on to Vasya so as not to fall over and his eyes were full of tears, so amused he was. 

Vasya stared at him blankly. “My husband made me clean the house,” he started singing, smiling at him.

“Oh, dear me, what do I do?” Grigori joined him, wheezing. 

&*&*

“The end,” Maxim read the last line.

Everyone stared at him. “They honestly and truthfully read that … story after dinner?”

Valery grinned. “Indeed, I did!”

“And the Young Lord managed to persuade His Majesty to let me share it with you,” Maxim grinned at his brothers and their friends and their friends. 

Carel was still staring with his mouth open. 

“It is a sweet story,” Maxim said. “Not as sweet as Her Excellency’s, of course.”

“And with a lot of interesting twists!” Vadim said.

“So…” Maxim said slyly, “Who will play ‘Count and the Stable hand’ with me? I need a Count!”

“You don’t want to play the Count?” Valery asked him, smiling.

“I’m not one to hold back, Brother. No, I need someone sweet and tender that I can seduce! Who wants to play with me?” He grinned. “I will even make an exception to my rule and accept a blond-haired ‘Count’. As long as he’s sweet and tender!” He shivered happily.

Jan raised his hand.

“You?” Maxim asked him, shocked! Jan had never! 

“No, no, be quiet. They are singing, from the other side of the camp, where the officers are.”

They went silent. 

“I can’t hear well,” Valery said a moment later. “Why don’t we go see what is happening?”

Grinning, they stood up and hurried towards the other end of the camp. 

Soon, they could hear what half the camp was singing, the song of a young wife who complains no matter what she has to do in the house. 

“Oh, dear me, what do I do?”

“What brought that on?” Maxim wondered.

“Your Captain started singing it, and then Evgeni did, and then His Majesty,” Yulian grinned from outside one of the tents. 

“And then everyone else who knew the song,” Izot laughed. 

“And there I thought they would be playing ‘Count and Stable hand’,” Maxim smirked.

“Yes, I agree.” Yulian winked at him. “Do you want to play it with me? I’ll be a very good stable hand.”

“Sorry, I am looking for a Count.”

Yulian shrugged and smiled good-naturedly. 

“Hey,” Maxim shouted in the relative quietness, “Anyone wants to play ‘Count and Stable hand’ with me?” People seemed to look at him strangely. “I’m Maxim, and I promise not to bite unless asked!”

“Me, me, me,” came from several directions as soldiers and low-ranked officers started getting up. 

“It is ‘I’,” they heard the Colonel grumble in the distance. “Not ‘me’.”

For a moment, Maxim stayed quiet. “I promise to teach it to them, Sir,” he shouted back. “Well…. So many Counts and only one me! Oh, dear me, what do I do?” he sang, making people laugh. “Who wants to play stable hand with me?”

&*&*

Nikolaj shook his head. Maxim deserved to be a prince’s husband with full rights, not just a common-law husband. That young man was just incredible!

“Ah, that Maxim,” Elik sighed softly as he heard the laughter and the banter outside. “Maybe we should sing another song,” he smiled.

“Or, maybe we should play ‘Count and the Stable hand’,” Nikolaj grinned. “Do you want to be the Count?”

“Me?”

“I, darling, I,” Nikolaj laughed, falling back on the bed. “Or Grisha will start shouting again. It’s his life’s mission to correct everyone’s grammar and syntax, I think.”

Elik fell on him. “Fine, I?”

“Yes, you.”

Elik wiggled. “I think I’m better placed to play Stable hand, my Love!” He caressed Nikolaj’s neck. “I know you want me,” he said huskily, quoting from the story, “Why do you deny me? Your eyes don’t lie! The fire of love burns in them. Let me burn in it!”

“I forgot what was next,” he chuckled. 

“Whatever you want it to be.” He suddenly stopped. “Husband? Why is Fredrik doing nothing? Surely he must have heard that I am with you and his plan has failed by now!”

“If I knew, I would tell you,” Nikolaj sighed. “If only we could get any news from Grodholm, but our Ambassador there is under house arrest, and we never had many contacts there. The army is nowhere near us. The reconnaissance teams were clear about that.”

Hm. It really was such an odd campaign. 

“Friends and relatives say I must marry,” Vasya started singing, distracting him. 

Nikolaj grinned. “He may have acted like he hated the story, but I think he secretly loved it.”

“Grisha definitely did.”

“The first was stuck-up,” Vasya sang.

“That’s not what the song says,” Elik frowned.

“Don’t marry me to her, Father.”

“Oh, he’s really changing the song,” Elik said excitedly as he settled on Nikolaj and listened. 

“Friends and relatives say I must marry. The second wanted me for my wealth. Don’t marry me to her, Father.”

“Hm, he did have several proposals,” Nikolaj muttered. “I wonder….”

“Friends and relatives say I must marry. The third was boring. Don’t marry me to her, Father. Friends and relatives say I must marry. The fourth wanted me for my horses. Don’t marry me to her, Father. “Friends and relatives say I must marry. The fifth was always sick. Don’t marry me to her, Father. “Friends and relatives say I must marry. The sixth wanted me for my looks. Don’t marry me to her, Father. Friends and relatives say I must marry. The seventh was perfect. But he didn’t want to marry me.”

“Yes, he did,” they heard Grisha laugh very loudly. 

“Yes,” Nikolaj chortled, “They did enjoy the story. So, should we enjoy it too? My Dear Count?”

Elik nuzzled Nikolaj. Yes, they definitely should.


	88. Chapter 88

16th 

“I kiss my girl, but she kisses me. I do something, but someone does something to me. When they ask, if I want to play, I say I, because I do. I, I, I, I learn how to use I.”

Nikolaj couldn’t stop laughing. “Finally, a march and grammar lesson at the same time.”

“I think that’s syntax, but it could be grammar,” Elik laughed as well, as the whole army marched to a jaunty tune and sang about when to use ‘I’ instead of ‘me’. 

“Grisha must have been very annoyed by all of us misusing language,” Nikolaj wheezed. 

“Who wants to play with me?” they heard Maxim sing at the top of his voice.

“I, I, I,” the soldiers answered, laughing. 

“My girl is kissing me,” Jan sang just as loudly.

“Me, me, me!”

Nikolaj broke into another violent fit of laughter, and Elik hid his face behind his hands, chuckling.

“Learn your letters, learn your language, do the right thing. Words help you free you mind; words help you learn to think.”

Nikolaj stopped laughing and stared at Elik. “Soldiers are not supposed to think.”

Elik stared back, hoping the concern he suddenly felt did not show. “I am certain there is a reason behind this verse.”

“In the heat of battle, in the time of peace, you serve your country better, when your mind is free.”

“See?” Elik smiled. 

“Your commander dies, you stop or run away? No, you think and take charge. You fulfil your mission freely for the Mother Land.”

“Did a Quhjani write this?” Nikolaj asked. “We rarely call the Empire ‘Mother Land’.”

Was his husband determined to find fault at a march? “But it does sound better, doesn’t it?”

“And in the market place, when the maiden asks for help, what do you say? I think and I say, I, I, I, I will help!”

Nikolaj started laughing. “Honestly, if someone replies with ‘me’ again after today, Grisha will be very disappointed!”

“Who wants to play with me?” 

“I, I, I.” 

“My girl is kissing me.” 

“Me, me, me!”

They started singing it again, and Elik almost fell off his seat. “They wrote an Oerestandish version!”

“Grisha must have been very mad!” Nikolaj grinned as he held him before he could slide on the floor from the way his body was raked with laughter.

He nodded and moulded his body against Nikolaj’s. “I really hope there will be no resistance against us today,” he whispered. 

“Me too. Wait, this is when I say ‘me’ and not ‘I’, right?”

Elik stared at him, feeling anxious. “I am not sure, Husband. Nikolaj?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s agree not to ask Grisha, please. He might lecture us that we are wrong!”

Nikolaj nodded, with the same worry in his eyes. “Yes, he might.”

“Hm… if you say ‘I hope that,’, then the correct response is ‘I too hope’, so…” Elik looked at him horrified. “Me too is wrong! But no one says ‘I too’, even if it is right.”

“He will definitely lecture us,” Nikolaj shivered. “Darling, let us not ask him!” He started laughing. “And the worst part is, I can’t tell him that I am his Emperor, and so I can use whatever language I want, because then he might lecture Us on how We must be paragons of right behaviour in all things, including language usage!”

Elik grinned. 

Nikolaj smiled once he calmed down. “One might say, We allow those two too many liberties. Sometimes, I too think it, but… a king would be stupid not to listen to good advice when he gets it, right?” He sighed. “Sometimes, though, it takes me a lot of time to understand when that advice is good,” he said, oddly serious. “Darling, be patient with me.”

He nodded. “I promise, My Love.” He didn’t say that he was already patient with him, since his patience was rewarded more and more every day.

They kissed slowly, making Elik feel happy and glad he was being nice, and dignified and hadn’t punched Nikolaj even when he had wanted to. 

The march ended to the sound of laughter. 

“Out from the wheat field, we go,” they heard the soldiers sing immediately afterwards. 

Elik broke the kiss. “Your Empire is mine too,” he grinned.

“It is, My Love,” Nikolaj smiled and captured his lips in another kiss, slow and sweet and lazy. Ah, such a perfect morning kiss!

When that finished, the troops began with Maxim’s favourite song.

“It does sound like a march when you listen to it with the drums playing, as they do now,” Nikolaj said, releasing him. “What is it about?” 

“A musician who kills giants.”

“It too is catchy.” Nikolaj smiled at him. “Our Empire is truly changing.”

“And that is a good thing, right?”

“The best.”

Nikolaj reached for another kiss but he pulled slightly back. “Husband, you must think seriously about having an heir, otherwise, everything we do will be for nothing without someone to continue our work.”

“Not that again. I don’t want to adopt anyone.”

Elik sighed. 

“Darling, please, let us not think about it for now, please?”

“Fine, but we will think about it soon?”

Nikolaj nodded. “Yes, I promise you. Can we kiss now?”

Well, since they wouldn’t talk, they might as well kiss.

&*&*

Mark hugged Sasha and cringed when Sasha stared sniffling. “What is the matter?”

“It’s so strange. I came here with such hopes and now I’m leaving again.”

“You are going to see Vasya, and His Majesty. If I could, I would come with you,” he smiled at him encouragingly. He wasn’t even lying about that. He was so curious to see what would happen when Sasha would appear in front of His Majesty and finally see is brother! Ah, damned work, keeping him chained to his desk. “Remember what we discussed over breakfast?”

“Yes, to beg His Majesty to find a solution because there is nothing in the legal texts you have consulted.” Sasha gave him a sharp look as he parted from him. “Did you really look?”

Mark huffed, and balled his hands into fists. He was certain that soon, someone would slap Sasha for his attitude, but that wouldn’t be him. Not that day, and he hoped, not ever. “Of course, I have.” He glared at Sasha. “You are not the first to ask if Vasya can be reinstated.”

“Ah.” He frowned. “Wait, does that mean that others also think I am incompetent?”

“No, it means that others also want Vasya to have his family back,” he replied immediately, proud at himself for being so good at lying. 

“Ah,” Sasha smiled, “Yes, that would be so good! I know I was mean to him, but I have missed him, Cousin Mark. If anything happens to him at the front….” He pointed his finger at him and pressed it on Mark’s chest, “I will blame you. You were supposed to look after him!”

“And I did, as much as I could.” He would not slap Sasha! He would not! 

Sasha snorted. “You let him join the army. Grisha too! And now they are at the front. Again!”

Mark took a deep breath. He really couldn’t deal with that level of idiocy so early in the morning. “Sasha, the longer we discuss things, the later you will get to Vasya.”

“Oh, yes, you are right. I need to see him.” He hugged Mark again. “Thank you for arranging this for me, Cousin.” He kissed him on the cheeks and Mark returned the gesture. “I will write when I have news. Till we meet again, Dear Cousin.”

“Till we meet again, Cousin Sasha!” He watched him get into the carriage with the Four, and then turned towards the six Guards that would escort him. “Thank you. Make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble, please.”

“No, Sir. We will defend him with our bodies, if need be.”

“Though, you’ll probably do something else with your bodies, whenever you can,” Filon laughed behind Mark. 

“Shut up, Brother,” the tallest of the Guards grinned. 

“We are all free, consenting adults here,” another smirked.

Mark nodded at that, grinning. 

“Yes, and we will cure the lovelies of any desire to become slaves again.”

“Some like being slaves,” Mark said without thinking.

“In the bedroom, yes, but not out of it. And if they like it out of it, they still need to be free so they can leave their bondage when it doesn’t please them,” another of the Guards told him seriously.

Mark raised an eyebrow. That Guard seemed too familiar with the ways of Masters and slaves. 

The Guard smirked back at him. 

Filon suddenly hit him on the back. “Stop considering if Vuk will join us.”

“I didn’t,” he whispered. 

Vuk laughed. “Worry not, Brothers. That stallion is yours.”

Mark preened. They thought he was a stallion? Nice! 

“Indeed,” Artyom said with a touch of possessiveness in his voice. 

Ah, his good boys. “Well, thank you, Gentlemen. Safe travels.”

They saluted him, and followed the carriage out of the Palace. 

Mark sighed deeply. “Fuck,” he suddenly shouted, “I forgot to tell them to tell Vasya to try and fix Sasha’s attitude. He was annoying in the past, but now he’s become insufferable! Oh, well, he’ll probably figure out what needs to be done the moment he sees him.”

Filon and Artyom laughed. “He will. Really, are these two related?”

Mark nodded, sighing again. 

“It is true what they say, you can’t choose your family, but you can choose your friends. No wonder the Captain has so many friends, if that’s his family!”

Mark frowned for a second, wondering if he also meant him. No, they probably meant Sasha the Impossible!

&*&*

“Irina, Katya, I have a letter for both of you,” Nathalia shouted from the kitchen. “Come and get it, I’m busy.” 

Irina shared a look with Katya, stood up, and ran to the kitchen. “What? Where?”

“On the table,” Nathalia huffed. “Now leave me alone so I can finish stuffing this chicken.”

Irina grabbed it and ran out to the garden.

“Is it from Colonel Vasily?” Katya asked her immediately.

Irina noticed that she had pushed aside both their books and papers, and was waiting for her. 

She looked at it and frowned. “No, it is from the Chancellor!”

“What does he want?”

“I don’t know.”

She sat down and opened it. “ _Dear Lady Alexandrovna, and Dear Lady Soltukof,_ ”, she read out loud. “ _I hope you will forgive me, but I got a copy of the story you sent to Cousin Vasya and took the liberty of sharing it with one of his biggest admirers, who is also a writer. Your work inspired him so, that he wrote this little story and asked me to share it with you. He also wrote that you must persevere and continue writing, for he thinks that with practice you will become better, and he expects great things from you._ ”

“How did he get a copy?” 

Irina snorted. “You didn’t see him much. He’s a sneaky and shady man! He must have stolen it! But he is a good friend both to my brother and to the Colonel.”

“If Colonel Vasily has forgiven him, then we too can forgive him,” Katya said. “So, where is the story?”

Irina opened the booklet, put it down between them and they started reading quietly. 

“This is really the work of a Writer!” Katya whispered half-way through the page. “Irina, we have to learn how to write like that!”

“Yes, so that our story about the equality of men and women will be better.”

“Irina?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think we can ask the Chancellor to ask this admirer of the Colonel to give us a few lessons?”

Irina grinned. “Why not? And we can tell him that we know that he got the story without the Colonel’s permission, because Colonel Vassily would never, ever betray our trust and share something we gave him in confidence, but that we will forgive him, if he does that!”

They grinned. “What a great plan!”

“Yes, let’s reply to the Chancellor, and then we can go back to our homework, so we can work on our story next!”

“Yes!”

&*&* 

Elik shuddered. “Husband? Why is there cannon shooting?”

“I am more interested in why they are cheering!” Nikolaj stepped out of the carriage the moment it halted, Elik hurrying behind him. 

“Husband, ships!”

“With Valentin flags!”

“We must salute them back!”

Nikolaj nodded, and Mir galloped towards the back. The moment he started moving, Nikolaj hugged him. “Darling, you see what an excellent job you did with Mark in signing that treaty with Valentin. Ah, now you understand why, even though I want you here, you can do so much more if you are at Ivanhof?”

“My place is next to you, though,” he said firmly. “And you said we will discuss it whenever your next campaign takes place. For this one, I am staying.”

Nikolaj grinned. “Yes, you are.”

He stared at the ships. Oh, how beautiful they were; how he longed to be on one of them! “Oh, I will be so happy when we too have our ships, and the northern sea is ours to roam, the north-west route ours to rule. That will be so wonderful!”

Nikolaj hugged him. “It will be, My Love.”

Ships!

&*&*

Ekaterina poured the tea herself before sitting down. “Where is Duchess Larionova? I haven’t seen her since yesterday’s lunch.”

“Oh,” Countess Naryniskina smiled, “You haven’t heard? She went to her Ancestral shrine and has been offering incense to Luck since yesterday for saving her from marrying either Stanjinski. First from the handsome, but still keen on scary dogs, Vasya, and then from the completely incompetent and useless Sasha! I think…” she lowered her voice.

“What?”

“She might even ask her husband if they can try living together.”

Ekaterina felt her eyes widen. The Duchess wanted to resume relations with her husband? After all these years? She gasped. “I think… Fedya will not deny her,” she said. “He told me yesterday that now that the Duchess had seen that both Stanjinskis were weird, perhaps he could try winning her over again.” She would need to learn to call her by her name and ‘cousin’ if that happened, and she resumed relations with her most dear cousin Fedya. 

“Sasha is more than weird,” Countess Longinova smirked. “He was wearing an earring!”

“With a pearl that was that big!”

They all sighed. “What a waste of a jewel.” 

“Yes, and the ones in his belt were just as big.”

“You will really cut yourself off from your family if Sasha remains the Head?” Nathalia asked Mavra.

She nodded. “You all heard how he insulted us. I will not abide a Head that is against his own family. And you heard how he said that we ‘breed’. He will never have heirs, the ungrateful wretch.”

Several of her friends nodded, and huffed. Ekaterina nodded. That was such an ugly verb.

“We don’t know if Lesnev will have heirs,” Agafia said, placing her hand on her belly. 

Ekaterina smiled. “I think they want something more in their lives. Why else would they get four cats and four dogs this year?” She knew that was why she had so many little dogs, and now Mark had finally got the same desire as she had, and wanted cats. 

“I would rather see one of their dogs as next Head of House than Sasha,” Mavra huffed, making them laugh. “I am not joking.”

“Maybe one of my dogs could be the next Head of the House Mikhanzhij,” Ekaterina sighed for a moment, before grinning brightly. “No, Mark would rather have a cat!”

“Most of the time, Heads of House are useless,” Nathalia smiled. “We might as well have cats and dogs in their place.”

“Old Duke Pavel was not that bad,” Agafia laughed. “My parents introduced me to Adam in one of his parties. Remember his parties? And his gardens?” She sighed. “I can’t believe Sasha let everything get destroyed. How could he not have people looking after his property?”

“He was probably busy writing ‘erotic fiction with some commentary’ to pay attention,” Mavra snorted. “It’s one thing to write it, but to admit it so shamelessly in public,” she shuddered. “How could he?”

“And crying in public as if he were still five,” Agafia sighed, shaking her head. “Remember how he would cry when anyone dared take his toys? And how he would never share anything with anyone?”

Nathalia and Mavra nodded. 

“At least, I heard he shares his bedmates,” Ekaterina giggled behind her fan.

They laughed, before Mavra’s expression darkened. “We cannot have a slave-owning Head of House,” she said seriously. “Dima has been working so very hard on the emancipation bill because money is never enough in this country. Not when Our Most Noble and Wise Emperor goes on a campaign every year. We must lead the way, so that others will follow and free their slaves, and so enlarge the tax base of the Empire. A slave-owner Head of House is a disaster!”

“He did free his slaves,” Ekaterina told them. 

Agafia nodded.

“How do you know?” Countess Nevkina asked them.

“Flor told us,” Agafia said, smiling.

“And Filon and Artyom told us.”

“How did they find out?”

Ekaterina grinned behind her fan. 

Agafia laughed. “They used their most powerful weapon: they refused to fuck him before he freed them.”

Nathalia’s laughter echoed around the room. “Ah, those Guards! If Vassily and I weren’t so in love, we might take one of them in our bed. But Vassily makes me so glad,” she smiled. “We are thinking of trying for baby Okdranov number three. It would be so nice if it were a daughter after two boys.”

Ekaterina nodded, smiling pleasantly, as she always did when they started discussing children. 

“Why don’t you have a Guard?” Agafia asked Mavra. 

“Excuse me?”

“Well, we have Flor, Pavel seems very taken with Simeon, to the point that Adam suspects he might make a formal petition to His Majesty to be allowed to marry him soon, and Ekaterina and Mark have two! Why don’t you have one? They really know what they are doing.” She looked at them naughtily. “He taught Adam and me a few things, and, as you know, he’s not our first lover!”

“It is tempting,” Mavra said quietly, “But … honestly?”

“Yes?” They all leaned closer to her.

“I would prefer having a Guard when they are commanded by a Stanjinski and not a Lesnev.”

“Mavra, you can’t put your pride first,” Nathalia told her gently as some of the Ladies laughed behind their fans. “The Guards will be the same no matter how their Captain is called.”

“Maybe, but for me it will be different. It will be like having a lover from among the people serving the family. It will be better!”

They smiled. “If you say so, dear Mavra,” Ekaterina told her. 

“I do.” She put down her cup. “So, now that we’ve had tea, and gossiped about Guards, should we start today’s business? My team and I are half-way through the Collected and Commented Judgments on Matters of Property, by Leonid Yasipof, and…” She groaned loudly. “It is the most boring book I have ever read in my life, but it is useful.”

Ekaterina nodded. “Do you want to share your team’s findings with us?”

“Of course.” Mavra picked up the folder that was by her chair and opened it.

Truly, His Majesty’s system of reading in the morning and discussing their notes in the afternoon was a good one. Every day, they were making progress! If they continued like that, they would have their first draft by next month!

&*&*

Nikolaj felt their carriage stop slowly amidst the sudden cheers of his troops. Elik almost jumped away from him as he straightened his clothes. “What now?” he muttered.

Igor signalled that he had a message, and Nikolaj knocked on the carriage to let him know he was ready for it as soon as he made sure that Elik and he were presentable. 

“Well?”

“Sire, the Mayor of Vibor sends his most sincere greetings and hopes that you will grace his town with your presence.”

He smirked. They didn’t even bother surrendering anymore! “We will. Also, what is going on? Did another of my Royal Brothers send me ships?”

“The Colonel’s team from Ustvela is back, Sire.”

“Why didn’t you say that first? Where are they? We must see them now. Do the Lesnevs know?”

Igor smirked as if to tell him, ‘what do you think?’. 

He grinned. “Yes, of course, they do. Igor, We will see them now and hear their news. I presume they are good.”

“Yes, Sire,” Igor laughed. “The Ustvelan special envoy that comes with them is bringing three regiments of their army.”

He stared at Igor. Honestly, he had left the most important news for last! He wouldn’t have to fight Ustvela! 

He had to send them all for retraining. To someone who could teach them priorities. Unless, they liked to tease him. He wouldn’t put it past them, considering how everything about this campaign had been progressing. It had started as a conquest attempt, turned into a liberation attempt, and now it was just a stroll in a country that had declared itself his, so he could give to Adelaide! “Good. Then, send a message to the Mayor of Vibor to arrange a Ball for Us. Nothing fancy, but We would like to use his largest assembly room.”

“Of course, Sire,” Igor saluted. A moment later he whistled something and rode ahead. 

He turned to look at Elik. His darling stood still, but his eyes burned. “Good news, he said.”

“I heard,” he whispered. “Oh, I heard!”

Count Bitoulin bowed. “Sire, we thought you would like to receive the team and the Ustvelan messenger here?” he said, pointing at the field to their right. 

“Well, I can hardly receive them there,” he laughed, gesturing towards his left, where the sea met the rocky land. 

“Indeed,” he said, embarrassed. 

With a smile, he followed him, Elik walking two steps behind him as if they were on an official function. Soon, they were in an open field full of late summer flowers and grass, and some forty riders escorting a carriage approached them.

“I thought he sent twenty-five men,” Elik whispered to him.

“I thought so too.”

“I only sent twenty-five,” Vasya said as he approached them.

“And I sent three to meet with your team, Michal with Kuzma and Fyodor,” Grisha told them.

“Then, who are the others?” General Davin asked. 

Vasya and Grisha shrugged.

“And who is in the carriage?” General Mrishnan asked. 

“We will find out soon,” Nikolaj said, smiling as he saw Evgeni and his husband come near them as well. 

Soon, he could see that the additional men wore the uniform of the Royal Guards of Ustvela. Whoever was the special envoy, was important enough to have such an escort. Who might it be? 

“Ah,” Grisha said, sounding very pleased. 

“I used your notes to select them. I hope you don’t mind.”

Grisha snorted. “Why? I would have done the same in your place. And there is no one I trust more with my notes than you.”

“Mark says they think better together, and now I see why,” Elik whispered to him.

He smiled. Mark was right. If only they ever agreed to actually working together in the same office instead of anywhere else. 

Within moments, the riders came to a stop in front of them, and he nodded at them as they saluted him. 

“Captain-lieutenant Gorda, will you give us your report?” Count Bitoulin asked one of the riders. 

“Mission successfully completed,” he grinned. “I believe His Highness would like the honour to inform you of everything, but I will happily give you a report later.”

“Thank you, Captain-lieutenant Gorda,” said Nikolaj.

The Royal Guard next to the coachman stepped down and opened the door of the carriage allowing a thin, spry man with a smiling expression to step down. He was dressed in full-court costume, dark green with gold embroidery, as if they were in a palace.

“Your Highness,” Vasya and Grisha gasped behind him. “Oh, what a relief,” Grisha continued happily.

Nikolaj turned towards them.

“Your Imperial Majesty, may I present you His Highness, Prince Krzyzanowslavski,” Vasya said.

The prince bowed and Nikolaj gestured for him to rise immediately. “Your Imperial Majesty, I bring you the most heartfelt greetings and thanks of His Majesty, King Anton the Third of his name,” he said after rising, and offering him a letter. “And, as a sign of our renewed alliance, I bring three regiments of our army to serve under Your Majesty’s command.”

“Please, convey to him Our own greetings and pleasure at the news of his ascension to the throne.” Anton would send message to his assassins to stop going after his darling. Ah, he should become a better king than he was, and listen to his trusted advisors when they gave him good advice. 

The prince smiled. “I will.”

“Will you tell Us how this most happy event happened?” he asked, finally allowing himself to grin.

“With pleasure. As Your Majesty knows, His Highness was imprisoned in Svjetlski Castle, but thanks to Your Majesty’s efforts, he was released, and rode to the Capital together with the Regiments of the South. Upon receiving the news, the Parliament, with the support of the Royal Guards and the Army stationed around the Capital, declared King Francis incompetent and a traitor to the country, forced him to abdicate and declared Prince Anton king.”

“And King Francis did not resist?” Elik asked softly.

“He couldn’t, not with the army against him.”

“I thought the army supported him,” Grisha said.

The Prince nodded. “They did, but the idea of going to war against Bosilke was not to their liking. And those who did not prefer peace, preferred money.” He smiled. “Somehow, my friends decided that it was worth spending a little money for peace, instead of a lot during a war.”

So, the noblemen had bribed the army to stand behind Anton. Clever people! 

“Where is King Francis now?” Elik asked.

“At Svjetlski Castle,” he snorted for a moment. 

“It looks a beautiful place with a lot of fresh air,” Nikolaj grinned. “I hope he enjoys his stay.”

Elik bit back his chuckle. 

“And how was His Majesty released?” Grisha asked. 

“I believe Captain-lieutenant Gorda is better qualified to answer this question.”

The man smiled. “Through a combination of bribery and…” he stared at Grisha with a serious expression. “disgust to royal brutality,” he said. “After the Colonel left Krzydzov together with… a failed assassin turned informant, King Francis sent orders to exterminate the man’s family as traitors.”

Grisha gasped loudly. “Oh, no,” he muttered.

“Several of the Guards at the castle were from the area, and, as it turned out, the man’s family was an important one at Svjetlski. Not rich, but the man’s father had one of the few local schools in the area, and his mother had also worked as teacher.” He sighed. “Her execution was considered wrongful by the people, and… The villagers offered us shelter just for that; no one even cared about our cover story. The guards from the area wanted justice for her. They persuaded their comrades to accept our bribe. A few that did not, they killed, and then opened the doors of the castle to us. I am sorry, Sir. There was nothing we could have done for Michal’s Mother.”

Nikolaj glanced back. Grisha looked stricken, and Vasya was holding his hand tightly. “I am sorry to hear this,” Nikolaj said earnestly. “If there is something We can do for this Michal, We will do it.”

“Is he here?” Grisha asked.

Captain-lieutenant Gorda nodded, and gestured backwards.

“With your permission, Sire, I would like to talk to Michal, and apologize to him.”

Why? Grisha had been doing his duty, and Michal had betrayed his country for them. They all knew that innocent people got hurt when there was war, and this had been war. A dirty, secret war that had saved them from an honest, open war where thousands would have been killed. Despite what he thought, he nodded. 

“And with your permission,” the prince said, “I would like to speak to my friend Lesnev, if you have no further questions.”

Nikolaj smiled. “We may have some, but We will save them for dinner. Gentlemen, the Mayor of Vibor awaits us.”

Vasya and Grisha whispered to each other for a moment and then they parted, Grisha moving towards the back, Evgeni following him, and Vasya going towards the prince. 

“May I ride with you to Vibor, Your Highness?” He heard Vasya ask as he and Elik walked towards their carriage, him guiding Elik there by the hand. 

“Darling,” he whispered, “Anton will have sent word to his assassins. Soon, you will be free of that threat!”

“Luck is with us, it seems,” Elik whispered happily. “My Heart.”

Nikolaj couldn’t wait until they were back inside their carriage so he could hold and kiss his darling. 

“Mark says that no place is safe for a crowned head, but, oh, how glad I am that soon I will not have to worry about that threat!”

Nikolaj nodded. “Mark is right to say that, but, Darling, I too am glad that this threat will be over.” He grinned. “That was the right use of ‘I’, right?”

Elik smiled. 

“What does Anton write?” he asked the moment they were in their carriage, disrupting his plans to hug and kiss.

Nikolaj broke the seal of the letter and unfolded it. Holding it between them, he started reading.

_Your Imperial Majesty,_

_I am most grateful for your help._

_One morning, I promised to do all in my power to keep the peace between our kingdoms. As it turned out, I could do nothing, and where I am now, I owe it to you. Please, rest assured that I remain your faithful and loyal ally and will remain so until the end of my days._

_With eternal gratitude,_

_Anton III R_

Elik frowned. “That is very official.”

“Wait, there is more.” He brought forward the paper behind that brief letter.

_Your Majesty,_

_I still cannot believe that my Father would contrive such a devious plot. Rest assured that I have sent orders to the men he sent at Bosilke to come back immediately, and I have also informed Fredrik that the alliance between Ustvela and Oerestand is no more. I hope that the presence of Our dear friend Prince K and the three regiments I place under your command will persuade him more than my letter that he is no longer Our ally._

_Please, send your Most Gracious Consort Our regards._

_Finally, it will honour Us if you could come to Our Coronation. It will be held next Spring (We are thinking to hold it on the 15th of Sweet Month), and We shall send you an official invitation, but, please keep the day open in your calendar._

_Your most devoted and loyal Brother,_

_Anton_

Nikolaj frowned. “The 15th is impossible. Do you think we can ask him to change it?”

Elik looked at him quizzically.

“Our three-year anniversary is on the 28th of Spring. Do you think we will celebrate it just in a day, and then run off to Ustvela? No, darling, we will be celebrating the whole month. I will write to Anton immediately, and ask him either to get crowned later, or accept our apologies.”

Elik stared at him. “You will dictate to a king of another country when he can get crowned?”

“Well… no, I will not dictate. I will ask very politely!”

Elik just shook his head, sighing. “Ah, husband. I see. Yes, I agree with you, the 15th will not do for us,” he smiled. 

“No, it will not,” he nodded as he took out his notebook and started composing his reply. 

&*&*

Grigori studied Michal. The young man had always been serious, but at that moment, dressed all in black, he looked withdrawn, wrapped in sadness, and there was nothing he could say that would make things better. Still, he had to apologize. “I am sorry, Michal. I…”

Michal dismounted and stared at him. The next moment, Michal hugged him tightly. “Thank you,” he said as he pulled back. 

“Why? If I hadn’t taken you to Bosilke, your mother would be alive now.” 

“No,” Michal said with certainty. “We’d both be dead.”

“I am still sorry.”

“So am I,” Evgeni said. He glanced back. “I think we are about to move again. I would suggest that you ride with us, but Thomas…” he sighed, shaking his head.

“And he’d be right not to want me there,” Michal told them quietly. “I did kill someone who didn’t deserve it.”

“I would have done the same in your place,” Evgeni whispered. “I should be going, but I will see you later?”

Grigori nodded. “Would you like to ride with me, Michal?”

He nodded. 

He waited until they were inside the carriage. “Your hands look well,” he smiled a little.

“Yes, thank you.”

“I don’t understand, though. Why did you come here? With Anton on the throne, you would be safe.”

Michal’s expression hardened. “What was there for me? The people at the village stood by while king Francis’ men burned our home, and hanged Mama in the middle of the square. They helped your men and me later, when king Francis’ men were away, but not when it mattered.”

“They were scared for their lives.”

“You got punished in your husband’s place without thinking of your life, and your men stood up for you, even when they knew that if their plan failed, they could be punished like you. You weren’t scared, and neither were your men. These people, these were my mother’s friends. And they stood and watched her die without even saying a word in her defense.” He shuddered. “I don’t… I couldn’t look at them without wanting to punch them, or worse.”

“You could have gone to the capital.”

Michal snorted. “Where? In the army, where I have been declared a traitor? Where my comrades probably still think that? I ran instead of killing myself, the way Major Nyevi did the day after we left. And do what while waiting to be pardoned?”

Grigori had nothing to say to that. 

Michal’s expression changed. “The truth is,” he said quietly, and looking at him earnestly, “I did think of staying at the capital, but… I had a dream.”

He nodded, and waited. 

“I was at that well… Remember? The one I had fallen into in my dream before I met you. Only, this time, I was walking inside it until I reached a door and my Mama was there.” He bit back a sigh. “She looked well, and…” 

Grigori handed Michal his handkerchief, seeing how bright his eyes were becoming.

“Thank you.” He wiped his nose. “She opened the door and led me into a formal garden, with hedges and flowers, and you were there, planting flowers that… I have never seen such flowers, so elegant and flamboyant at the same time, like roses, but bigger and prettier. They were so beautiful.”

Grigori bit his lips. Michal’s dreams were so strange, but he dared not tell him how fantastical it all was. Michal probably believed his dreams to be omens, after dreaming those crows around his house, and finding it burned and his mother dead. 

“You and Mama both told me I could stay. And, even though there was this lion next to you, I was not scared. It had such kind eyes.” Michal smiled and snorted. “You may think me foolish, but my dreams come true, Sir. So, I decided to trust my dream, leave that place that I hate, and come here.”

Grigori smiled. “If this is where you want to stay, then you are more than welcome, Michal.”

“Thank you.” He looked outside for a moment, at the sea. “Mama looked so happy in my dream,” he whispered. “I felt she wanted me to be just as happy, that was why she led me to you. And your lion,” he smiled. 

He had no lion; only a very big kitten, he thought and smiled back. “I messed up your life, it is my obligation to put it right,” he said quietly. 

“My King messed up my life.” Michal looked at him seriously. “Your king has messed up a lot of peoples’ lives too, with all his wars.”

Grigori studied him. “Yes, he has, but he wants to make things right as much as he can. Together with his Consort.”

“You believe that?”

Grigori nodded. “Yes. Nothing can bring back the dead but I believe he does want to make life better for the living.”

“That would be nice.”

“I agree.”

Michal sighed deeply and looked outside again. 

Grigori mimicked him. What more could they say? They all did such horrible things for their country. Michal had killed, he had tortured, and Vasya spied on everyone. They all did evil for the sake of what they thought was good. They were the same; they understood each other. 

He focused on the sea. The more they traveled by it, the more he understood why His Majesty, Elik, found it captivating. It always changed. It was fascinating. Wild and beautiful at the same time. 

&*&*

Prince Krzyzanowslavski finished telling him everything that had happened at the Capital, and how the noblemen preferred bribing the army instead of waiting to be arrested like him. 

“I am still sorry this happened,” Vasya said honestly. “If I had any idea that things were that bad, I would never have told Grisha to contact you.” Clearly, they had to work more on their network of contacts. Whenever they were back, he would talk to Mark. Unofficially. 

“If something ends well, then all is well, right?”

Vasya smiled and nodded. 

“Enough of that,” the prince said with a bright smile. “Let me look at you. Ah, I have grown old and my mind feeble. You look so much like your mother; how could I not recognize you?”

“How could you?”

“I suppose I expected Pavel’s son to look more like him. I don’t know why.”

“Sasha has taken after Father,” he smiled. 

“Ah. Does he also drink like his father?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, yes, I am sorry.”

“No, please, do not apologize.” 

The Prince grinned. “Fine. I will not. Tell me,” he said as he suddenly took out a box from a small bag and gave it to him. “What do you think of this?”

He took it and opened it. “Oh! That’s the God of Wine and his Consort, the Goddess of Joy. It’s exquisite.” He studied it. “It’s so finely carved.” He grinned. “Am I supposed to date it?”

“You are supposed to take it.”

“What? No, I cannot accept.”

“You will,” the prince told him calmly. “Or I will throw it out.”

“No,” he protested, closing his fist around the small gem. 

“Then,” he grinned, “you will accept it. I have no children, my dear friend, and my nephews will never understand the value of my cameos. Dear friend, son of my dear friends, please.”

Vasya felt cornered. “I will accept it, but under one condition. Please, tell me of my parents. I have decided to write the Stanjinski family history for Sasha and the others.” He smiled at him. He had no children either, but he would leave his books behind. “Your memories are most precious historical records. Let me record them.”

“With pleasure.”

Vasya took out his notebook.

“Pavel. Ah, what a man he was!”

Vasya frowned for a second. Could Grisha had been right? Had the Prince had an affair with his parents? He certainly sounded like he admired his Father a bit too much. 

&*&*

After His Majesty received yet another key, and His other Majesty received more flowers, and they both thanked the people and he Mayor in Oerestandish, it was finally time to find which accommodation had been assigned to them. And to meet with Vasya!

“Come,” he told Michal as he hurried towards the other side of the square, where Vasya was, still a little surprised at how everyone parted for him. “We have half an hour to settle in, and go for dinner. We have to be in the dining room before their Majesties, or they will not let us in.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Michal asked quietly.

Grigori snorted. “It is, when His Majesty expects you to sit by his side. I hope he makes Prince Krzyzanowslavski sit there tonight.”

Michal followed him. “His Majesty really cares for you.”

“I suppose so.” He smiled. “It is all so new and strange, to sit so close to a king.”

“I have never sat next to a king. Except when we were riding with Prince Anton back to Krzydzov. I think he will be a good king.”

“I hope so, Michal. Hey,” he shouted.

“Hey to you,” Vasya answered him immediately, turning towards him after nodding to the prince. “Do you know where we are staying?”

“No, but…”

“Captain, if you please, follow me,” Longin shouted over the noise of everyone trying to find where they were staying. 

He nodded. “Vasya. Let me introduce you to Michal. Michal, this is my husband, Vasya,” he smiled.

“Hello, Michal,” Vasya told him kindly. “Pleased to meet you.”

Michal just stared at him.

“What is the matter?”

“Your lion had his eyes,” Michal whispered to him.

Grigori smiled. “He’s no lion, Michal. He’s my Vasya.”

“I know what I saw,” Michal insisted.

At Vasya’s questioning look, Grigori shook his head. “I’ll explain later,” he mouthed. “Let’s move before we lose Longin, and our accommodation.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Vasya told Michal seriously as they walked behind Longin towards one of the bigger houses in the town. 

“Thank you.”

“The dead live in our memories,” Vasya suddenly said. “If you want to talk of your mother, you can talk to me. I will listen.”

“You…” Michal shook his head. “Thank you.”

“Grisha told me you were his nurse?” he asked, changing the subject completely. “Was he a good patient?”

“Yes, Sir. He was.”

“Ah. I am glad to hear that. He said you were a good nurse, and that you want to study medicine, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Grigori smiled. Almost a week ago, Vasya was wondering if Michal was his rival in love, and there he was now, trying to get Michal out of his shell. Ah, his Vasya. Even if Michal were his rival, he’d probably still be trying to make Michal relax, because that’s who he was. His sweet, kind-hearted man. 

Ah, his Vasya.

&*&*

Elik smiled at Vasya. “May I have this dance?”

Vasya nodded. “What is the matter?”

Ah, truly dancing was for talking of matters private. “My husband,” he smiled, pretending all was well for prying eyes. “He ordered Anton to change his coronation because it clashes with our anniversary.” He looked at Vasya’s eyes, finding understanding. “Why didn’t he write to Francis to stop sending his assassins once he found out?”

“Perhaps he thought this would make matters worse? Francis was convinced we were interfering in Ustvelan politics already.”

“Or perhaps he didn’t care,” he said bitterly, with the same fake smile. “I am so mad, Vasya.”

“Do you want to hit me?”

“No,” he grinned. “But I want to sleep in a separate room tonight and I can’t.”

Vasya smiled at him gently. “Say you have a headache.”

“Hm, maybe.”

“Sire? I beg you to push your anger aside.”

“How?”

“That was in the past. He did something stupid, but he’s trying to fix it now. And,” he lowered his voice. “He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

Elik smiled a little. Nikolaj did make him happy. “But I am still angry. I had to watch him dictate to another king what to do and conform to his schedule, whereas he hadn’t lifted a finger for me.”

“Sire, you are dwelling in the past. Let it go.”

He huffed.

“I just spent two hours with His Highness telling me stories of my father, and I remembered that once, we loved each other. Yet, neither he nor I can fix anything now, Sire,” Vasya told him miserably. “But you and he can. Don’t destroy your chance. Please.”

Elik sighed. “Whose side are you on?”

“The side of Love, of course,” he smiled. 

He was a little weird, Elik thought. 

“Although, dictating to Anton when to have his coronation is really exactly what Francis had accused us of doing, of treating his country like one the Bosilik provinces. Did he send that letter already?”

Elik shook his head. 

“Hm, I wonder who should talk to him about it.”

“I can try,” Elik said. He suddenly knew what excuse to use. He’d say he wanted to write to Anton together with Nikolaj. “Thank you for listening.”

“I… you’re welcome.”

Elik nodded and weaved his way between the couples to find Nikolaj, pushing his lingering anger aside. Nikolaj was trying, and what he’d done was in the past. He had to accept it, because he loved him. 

Count Bitoulin nodded at him respectfully and stepped away from his husband. 

“May I have this dance?”

“Of course.”

He smiled. “Thank you. Ah, how I love you.” The moment Nikolaj’s arms closed around him, he felt himself go limp, and drained of all energy. “Nikolaj,” he whispered. “Soon, Francis’ assassins won’t be after me. Ah.”

“Yes. Darling?”

“I feel relief and it makes my body weak. Hold me?”

“Always.”

“You mean that? Truly?”

Nikolaj nodded, even as he looked at him sadly. “I am sorry. But I will make it up to you. I promise. I love you so.”

“Ah, my Nikolaj.” 

They only had one life to live. They couldn’t waste it. But, damn, how angry he still was!

&*&*

Maxim bowed a little. “May I have this dance?” he asked Evgeni.

Thomas smirked as he bowed as well and took a step back, immediately finding himself dancing with Vadim. 

“Evgeni? Who’s the crow behind the Colonel?” he finally asked what he’d been wanting to ask for hours. 

“That’s Michal,” Evgeni told him.

“That’s Him? The Michal?”

Evgeni nodded.

“Oh!” Maxim stared at him. All in black and with a scowl, he looked so out of place in the Assembly room, but how else should he be? “Poor man. I guess it doesn’t matter if everyone calls him a hero when he’s in mourning.”

Evgeni nodded. “Thomas still doesn’t like him, though.” He sighed. “Maxim, why don’t you ask him to dance?”

“What? He’s in mourning. I can’t.”

“Yes… I just think he looks so sad, and he was such a sad person already when we took him with us. He makes me worry, Maxim.”

The Master of Ceremonies hit his staff on the floor at the end of the music and everyone fell quiet. 

The Young Lord started speaking in Oerestandish. Maxim wished he knew what he said. It really sounded like a beautiful language. “Will you do us the honour to sing us something, Vasya?” he switched to Bosilik.

With a small smile, their Captain bowed his head.

“Poor Captain,” Maxim whispered. “He’s stuck being the Young Lord’s singer.”

“I think the Young Lord respects Thomas too much to ask me to sing,” Evgeni grinned.

“Evgeni?” the Captain approached them.

“He doesn’t,” Maxim laughed.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Do you know ‘Too much wine, too much laughter,’? I think it could sound well if we both sang it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And, maybe you can show people how you can dance it?” he told the others.

Jan and Carel grinned. “Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you.” He and Evgeni walked near the musicians. “I hope you forgive me, Sire, for my choice of song. His Highness, Prince Krzyzanowslavski, wanted to hear it as it is an old favourite.” He smiled. 

As they started singing this song about being so drunk and lonely even in the middle of a party, Maxim decided to approach The Michal! 

“Hello, I’m Maxim. Would you like to dance with me?” he asked him in Valentinois.

The Colonel stared at them curiously. 

Michal shook his head. “Not really.”

“Then, maybe we can go outside? Like in the song?”

The Colonel frowned.

“To get some air,” Maxim clarified quickly. 

“What does the song say?” Michal asked him. 

“It’s about someone who is in a party and has had too much wine, but he’s lonely. He misses someone who is away and never visits. He wants to play music for them, and make them visit. But they never do. So, he drinks and laughs, and pretends he’s happy. Hm, it’s a sad song, really.”

Michal frowned. “Am I supposed to pretend I am happy?”

“No. But being miserable all the time won’t bring your mother back. I know.”

“Mama would want me to be happy,” Michal told him quietly, “But I am not ready for that yet. I had to bury her with my hands,” he whispered. “Bastards, rotten bastards all of them.”

The Colonel and Maxim shared a look.

“You need some air,” the Colonel told Michal as he guided him gently to the garden, Maxim following them. 

“I really wanted to kill them all,” Michal continued as they walked out of the crowded room. “Bastards.”

Maxim looked at him. “Do you want to hit someone?”

Michal glanced at him.

“If it would make you feel better, you can hit me.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t hit them, and probably no one will.” Maxim smiled at him. “Some people shout and others break things when they are mad and angry. Others drink. And I dance.”

“And when you are both mad and sad?”

“I dance.” He grinned. “And I sing too. ‘Where are you, my dear one? Why can’t my song reach you?’” he sang in time with Evgeni and the Captain, translating the song for Maxim’s sake. “Too much wine, too much laughter, yet nothing soothes my heart. My dear, if only I could see you once more. If only I could sing to you like before.”

“What do you do, Sir? When you are mad and sad?”

“I scream,” he smirked. 

Michal frowned. “I think I would like to dance. Do you know of a good dance for when you are sad and mad?”

Maxim nodded. “Follow me,” he said as he went back into the Assembly hall as the Captain and Evgeni finished the song , leaving everyone staring at them in silence. “Evgeni, do you know ‘Little berry, my red berry’?”

“Yes.”

“I can sing it with you, if you want,” the Captain said.

“Yes, please.”

Maxim turned to Michal. “Just do what I do. The steps are easy, but the dance gets faster and faster. Ready?”

Michal nodded. 

“Evgeni, we are ready.” He smiled at Michal. “Let’s scream with our bodies, friend.”

&*&*

“So, that’s your Michal,” Vasily said as they washed their clothes in the laundry room before going to bed. 

Grisha nodded. 

“He is very reserved. Even for someone in mourning.”

“I agree.” Grisha sighed. “He had started to open up a little before he went back to Ustvela, but….” He sighed deeply. 

“I think being with the Guards will be good for him. Is he sharing Carel’s room?”

“Yes.” Grisha nudged him. “And you? How are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your choice of song.”

“Ah. The Prince said it was one he’d learned from my father, and wanted to hear it again.” Vasily smiled at Grisha. “I… I can’t pretend that I am not his son anymore. Even if that life is over, it still shaped me, and they were my family once. I want to … We never made peace before he died, Grisha, and I am tired of this. I know he can never forgive me, nor will he ever hear me, but I want to say that I’ve finally forgiven him.”

Grisha let the shirt drop in the wash basin and hugged him. “You are determined to forgive and love everyone from now on?” he smiled.

“Yes.”

“You may never have made peace, but he loved you.” Grisha kissed him. “He did.”

Vasily sighed. How nice it would be to believe such kind lies. It didn’t matter, though; he couldn’t control what others did, and he couldn’t make amends. But he could forgive his father, and allow the love he’d had for him bloom again. “Hey.”

“Hey to you. What is it?”

“Can I sing it again? I know it’s a miserable song, but it feels right. He won’t hear me no matter how much I call out to him, but I want to.”

Grisha nodded. “It’s also a beautiful song. But then, maybe we can sing about giant-killing musicians?”

Vasily smiled and nodded. “Maxim must see himself in that musician. He too killed a giant, after all.”

Grisha looked at him curiously for a moment before returning to the wash basin and picking up his shirt again. “He did,” he smiled. “When we are back, we must organize a trip for all your wolf cubs, Siuta. Won’t that be wonderful?”

“Oh, yes!” And he knew he wouldn’t have to try hard persuading the Guards to hide onions and garlic for his stews, or alcohol for his special drinks! It would be so wonderful!

&*&*

Elik shivered as Vasya’s song reached up to their window. “He told me he spoke of his father with the prince. Husband, you are right; he misses his family.”

Nikolaj hugged him and rocked him in tune with the song. “Ah, darling. Why was I so stupid?” He suddenly turned Elik around so he could face him. “Husband, promise me this. If I do this again, if I show fear and am not loving towards you, you will remind me of this song.”

“Excuse me?”

“Duchess Zinaida, Pavel’s wife, thought it was about a couple that had separated, and perhaps they would come together again. Whenever he argued with his wife, he’d sing this to her, to ask her to listen to him, and forgive him. After she passed away, Pavel claimed that it was about a husband mourning his wife. Darling, I don’t want our love song to become my mourning song. Promise me that you will stop me from doing that.”

Elik hugged him. Ah, fuck it, he couldn’t be angry any more. Not when Nikolaj was so remorseful and trying so hard for him. “And when I make you furious with my behaviour,” he told him, “remind me that no plant can live without the sun. I don’t want to lose my Sun, my Love.”

Nikolaj studied him. “Deal,” he said offering him his hand. 

“Deal,” he said, shaking it firmly. 

“Now, should we tell Vasya to sing something happier? He is going to make us all cry if he continues like this.”

Elik nodded. No one had joined in this song, everyone clearly listening in. And he knew they were; he could see several people leaning down from their windows from the other wings of the building they were staying. Vasya was completely wasted in the army.

As soon as Vasya stopped singing, Nikolaj leaned out of the window. “Vasya, sing us something happy, please. With romance!” he winked at Elik. 

“First, I must fulfil another request, Sire,” they heard Vasya shout from below. “Something about a giant-killing musician?”

“Thank you, Sir!” Maxim shouted from above. “On the count of three?”

Nikolaj shook his head as Vasya and Maxim started singing _that_ song again, and soon had everyone joining. “This is no campaign. This is the holiday trip I never knew I wanted.”

“Singing is good for morale,” Elik smiled. 

“Yes, and it really shows that we are not here as enemies or conquerors, since we sing Oerestandish songs. Still… weird.” He pulled Elik close. “Do you think we can dance this?” 

Elik grinned. “Husband!” Ah, how he loved dancing with Nikolaj!


	89. Chapter 89

17th 

Grigori smiled at Michal. “Do you want to ride with us?”

Michal nodded after a moment’s silence. 

“Carel, why don’t you join us?” He glanced where the other wolf cubs were talking quietly with His Majesty’s Guards. “Maybe Maxim too?”

“Sir?’ Carel asked him quietly. “Are you sure?”

Vasya nodded. “Yes, Carel.”

Carel whistled and gestured for Maxim to come over to their carriage.

“Sir?” Michal asked Vasya quietly.

“Yes, Michal?”

“Would you teach me the song you sang yesterday? About missing your dead?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Sir? For whom were you singing it?”

“My parents. My Father, especially, but… my Mother liked that song too.”

“Ah.”

“And you, Sir?”

Grigori smiled. “What about me? I can’t remember my parents. I must have had them, but they died when I was little.”

Michal looked at him strangely. 

“How did you manage growing up without parents?” Maxim asked him. 

Grigori laughed. “I don’t know. No, I do. Some older children took me under their wing and… I guess I’m a stubborn person. I remember thinking when I was little, if weeds manage to grow up where no one wants them, then so will I.” He grinned. “And, I did.” He saw Vasya note it down, and his grin widened. 

They settled inside the carriage, Grigori sitting as close to Vasya as he could, and the two wolf cubs on either side of Michal on the opposite seat. 

“Carel, Maxim,” Vasya told them, “I will need help.”

“Sir?”

“You have been noticing what has been happening, right?”

“Sir?” Maxim asked again.

“Fredrik’s only ally is Leopold right now and the Valentin and Storjordi ships are moving ahead to blockade Grodholm.”

Grigori tried not to smile. He’d have to explain the notion of ‘leave’ to Vasya that evening. Although, maybe not; he was just as bad. “And his army is still close to the Capital,” he added.

They shared a look, and Vasya nodded.

“The only place they can engage us in a tactical, open-field battle is here,” he said, as he took out a map of Oerestand from his traveling bag and showed it to the three of them, pointing at a wide valley near the capital. “They could try to stop us at this passage here,” he said, trailing his finger on a narrow passage between two mountains that was the natural gate to the valley of Grodholm, “but our reconnaissance teams have not reported any movements in the area.”

“Nor anyone from the townspeople we have met in the last few days has mentioned anything. I don’t feel they are leading us into a trap, and none of the intelligence we have points to that,” Vasya said.

“Sir, how do you know what the intelligence reports say?”

Vasya snorted, making Grigori laugh and hum a little dance tune. 

“Sorry, stupid question,” Maxim said, but his eyes were shining. “I got it. Count Bitoulin talks reports with you when you dance.”

“And so do the Generals,” Carel grinned. 

“Told you they were observant but often need a push to the right direction,” Grigori said, grinning. 

Vasya nodded. “You did.”

Maxim and Carel both looked embarrassed. “We will do better,” Maxim shouted.

“I know you will,” Vasya reassured them. “So, what do you think will happen next, the way things are progressing?”

“A battle in the open fields outside Grodholm?” Carel said after a few minutes. 

“Although, cutting us off at the mountain passage would be easier and give them the advantage,” Maxim suggested. 

“They will ask for peace,” Michal told them quietly. “The people of half the country are against Fredrik, so, half the army must also be against him. That’s what happened at Ustvela.”

Vasya smiled at the same time as he did. “I also think that,” he said. “They no longer have the psychological advantage they had ten days earlier, and the people here really want Augustus and Adelaide rather than Fredrik. In Fredrik’s place, I would negotiate a peace treaty, allowing me to keep the area beyond the mountains, and let Adelaide have the land that has declared for her.”

“Besides, it’s summer still,” Grigori smiled. “Mountains are more passable for them, but for us too.” And in the evening, General Mrishnan and he would present His Majesty with a plan to send some troops via the mountain routes and not the passage and so, if there were Oerestandish defenders beyond the passage, they would circle them and cut them down from where they didn’t expect it. if the units left early in the morning, they would move easily ahead of them and help their advance. The true question was, how much of the force should they send ahead. 

“So, what do you want us to do, Sir?”

“I want us to prepare for the eventuality of peace! I want their Majesties to make a Great Entrance. I want a choir. And musicians.”

Carel and Maxim shared a look.

“Talk to the others too. Ask the drummers and the army musicians. Identify the best singers from among your friends, ask them if they are willing to help, and if they are, we will start planning the best and most exciting entrance a friendly army ever had!”

Michal studied them. “How different is your army,” he whispered. “You want to fight with songs.”

“Yes,” Vasya replied excitedly. “Art can help bring peace! Weapons speak the language of fear, but music speaks the language of the heart and needs no words to be understood.”

“But we will also have a couple of songs and marches in Oerestandish, because that’s also good,” Grigori said.

“Exactly. So, will you help me? If not, we will have to do something for a small group of voices that will still have an impact, but my vision is of a thousand-men-strong choir singing about peace.”

Maxim and Carel exchanged another look. “You want a choir of a thousand men to be able to perform in a week or ten days?”

“Yes,” Vasya told them brightly. “If you have managed to teach all those people your favorite song, surely they can learn a piece or two in honour of their Majesties.”

“And everyone learned how to sing ‘I learn how to use I’ in hours, thank to you,” Grigori added. 

Carel hit Maxim on the back of the neck. “Great, you made the Captain think we can do the impossible.”

“No, Maxim, you reminded me that you Guards can do anything,” Vasya smiled at them.

Grigori nodded. “Yes, he keeps telling me that!”

“We will find your thousand men, Sir,” Maxim shouted, grinning.

“And a thousand more,” added Carel. “You can rely on us.”

Grigori looked at them. How eager they were. He smiled. Vasya had a different style of commanding, but it was effective. Not for him, though! No, even if he wanted to try it, no one would believe him. 

“Thank you!” Vasya touched Grigori’s hand. “I so hope Luck will be with us, and this will come to pass.”

“If not, we will fuck them up from over the mountain passage,” Grigori smirked.

“And if the ships’ blockade is effective, then let us hope that Luck will guide them to surrender.”

Michal stared at them. “I will pray for peace,” he said. 

“We all will,” Maxim told him. “How do you pray? Do you want us to join you?”

“I will show you,” Michal said seriously.

“May we also join you?” Grigori asked him.

Michal nodded. 

“Thank you.”

“So, you said you wanted to learn what I was singing last night? Grisha, will you help me transliterate the words in the Ustvelan alphabet?”

“With pleasure.”

He ignored how the wolf cubs and Michal looked at them with curiosity and interest. Lately, everyone did that. Ah, they probably still thought they were some sort of romance heroes, when they were just trying to do their work. 

How strange was their Luck.

&*&*

Elik looked at the empty paper in front of him. “Husband, why don’t we invite everyone for our anniversary?”

“Everyone?”

“Well, like King Charles had done. Or…” he ran the tip of his feathered quill along his lip. “Is that too early? He waited until they were married for ten years. Hm… but that would clash with Anton’s coronation.”

Nikolaj frowned. “Darling?”

“I think we should honour Anton’s invitation, since he is our most trusted ally, and he…” he sighed, “He got to prison for our sake. Husband?”

“Yes?”

“What if we celebrated the entire month of Spring? Then our three-year-anniversary would be the culmination of the festivities rather than in the middle, and then,” he grinned, “We could hurry to Ustvela and watch Anton get crowned on the 15th.” His grin widened at his sudden idea. “If we time it right, we could call the dead at Quhjan and then cross the borders to Ustvela.”

“Eh? Oh, that big feast in honour of the dead of the battle of Kiskun?”

Elik nodded. “Oh, My Love, if we were to honour them together at Quhjan, what a message it would send to our people.”

Nikolaj stared at him. “It sounds appealing.” He grinned. “Can we have the feast somewhere where they don’t burn the meat?”

Elik looked at him with mock-exasperation. “It’s not burnt; you just like it rare.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” he smiled, clearly not agreeing with him. “So, should we reply to our dear ally?”

“And friend! I drank wine with him!”

Nikolaj laughed. “You sound like a Stanjinski. They only make friends after drinking with them.”

Elik smiled. “Husband, how well do you know Vasya? And his parents?”

“Darling, the inner Court is like your Council of Elders. We all know each other. Vasya’s cousin is married to Dima Theissen, Vasya’s former fiancée is my fourth cousin and she’s married to Ekaterina’s first cousin Fyodor, I was supposed to marry Nathalia, but she was in love with Vassily, Okdranov, I mean. My second cousin Vladimir is married to Mark’s cousin Xenia and… you get the idea.” 

Elik felt his eyes widen. It really was like the relations between the families of Elders. They all knew each other and they intermarried, and whenever they ran out of male heirs, they adopted sons or married outside the Twelve. Ah, they truly were noble, as noble as his husband’s court. 

Nikolaj grinned. “Yes, we’re all connected. But to answer your question, I’ve known Vasya since he was two, and he was so cute going everywhere around with his big, black beast of a dog.” He laughed.   
Since he was two? The inner Court really was exactly like the Twelve and their families! 

“As for his parents, they were friends of the family, just like Mark’s parents were friends of the family. Vasya’s father taught me how to drink, you know. Mother would not have entrusted this lesson on anyone else.” 

His expression grew delighted. “Old Duke Pavel threw the best parties in the Empire. Ah, the annual Stanjinski summer party!” He closed his eyes for a few moments, smiling happily. “They would serve this wonderful drink for children that looked like the punch they served for adults and we all felt so grown-up sipping it from glass goblets as our parents, there would be music playing all day and all night, and fireworks, and games, and horse races, and jesters, and cock fights, and mock fights, and dances and boat races at the river…And they lasted for days, since Pavel could drink for days! Ah, they truly were so wonderful.” He sighed. “The last summer party was when they announced Vasya’s engagement to Natasha Barianina, my fourth cousin. It had been so much grander than any other party, since it was also Vasya’s engagement. It had lasted for a whole week.”

“And then Vasya married Grisha.”

He nodded. “And there were parties no more,” he said wistfully. 

“Our parties are so tame in comparison,” Elik whispered. Even the parties they’d held during the trip to the west did not have mock fights or boat races or horses, even thought they had music and dancing and games, and only at their costume ball at Aedley did they have a few fireworks. Well... they were on a budget, since they had to spend their money on hiring people for the good of the Empire, he thought and consoled himself.

“I don’t care much for organizing them, and I’m happy as long as there are drinks and people want to play cards.” He smiled at Elik. “I’m a simple man, My Love.”

“Hm. I think I would like to have such parties.”

“Perhaps Sasha will prove as good a host as his father. It’s his responsibility as the Head of the Family to organize the annual Stanjinski summer party, but, of course, he’s been in self-exile for the last years. Ah…. I wonder if he knows the recipe for the children’s version of the adult punch of … how did they call it? It had a special name.”

“The Punch for All Days,” Elik smiled. “It is good, but I agree with you, the children’s version is so much better.”

Nikolaj stared at him in shock. “How do you know this? How did you try it? How?” 

“Vasya made it for the Stanjinskis at court.”

Nikolaj grabbed him by the hands. “Vasya has the recipe? Why didn’t you say so all these days?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to try the Punch for All days.”

He grinned. “You are right, how could you know?” He knocked on the carriage’s side and Izot appeared moments later. “Tell Vasya that We want to have the Punch for All days tonight. Both the adult and the children’s version.”

Izot stared at him. “The Captain said that we should not drink during the campaign,” he chastised him.

Elik tried hard not to smile at His Husband’s expression, half-disappointed, half-amused. Oh, that explained why they were only served one bottle of wine per two persons at dinner! He really had to reward the Captain for making his husband drink less. Izot meant Grisha, didn’t he? 

“Fine, tell him We want the Children’s version, then. Go, tell him.” He grinned at Elik. “Ah, my Love! Grisha has taken command of my troops.”

He didn’t sound like he was complaining, so Elik decided not to say anything. “I also think that drinking during a campaign is not good,” he said, smiling a little. 

“You never think that drinking is good.”

“Oh, Husband. There are occasions that one can drink. But it is better when one doesn’t!”

“Ah, Husband,” Nikolaj laughed. “You are just so good!”

Yes, he was, he smiled and leaned for a kiss. 

&*&*

Irina and Katya looked over their notes. “I am beginning to think,” Irina said, “That we may need to write a series about the Teacher-Major educating young Ladies on equality, partnership, and love.”

Katya nodded seriously. “I was also thinking. What if we made the Teacher-Major a woman?”

“What?”

“Well…. Do we need a man to teach young Ladies to be equal to men? Wouldn’t it make more sense, and be more appealing, if the Teacher was a woman?”

Irina stared at Katya. She really had the most astonishing ideas! “You are right,” she said quietly, after thinking about it. what Katya said did make sense, and would make their message on equality of men and women even more powerful. “But….”

“Yes?”

“I like thinking and writing about the Majors kissing,” she murmured, feeling her cheeks burn and her belly ache and a strange sensation between her legs that grew the more she thought about them kissing and hugging and dancing! 

Katya blushed fiercely. “So do I,” she said in an even lower voice. “Oh, Katya, when they kissed when they reunited…. Oh, that was just as good as when the Major kissed his husband when he left for Ustvela. Those kisses, and how they broke apart to talk, and then they kissed again.”

“Yes, and how they held each other’s hands.”

They both nodded, Katya making a strange noise in her throat, and Irina letting out an embarrassing trill. 

“They made me think of doves,” Katya said. “How they stared at each other and kissed and broke apart and stared and kissed and…” she sighed. 

“I want a partner who will look at me like the Major looks at his husband!”

They both sighed. 

“But, have you heard of Maxim?” Katya suddenly asked her with eyes shining. “The Man who Can Do Anything! What does that mean? Everyone spoke about in such a way that… whatever he can do, must have been naughty!”

Irina laughed. “Maxim actually a very proper gentleman,” she told her. “He would often dance with me during The Trip and he was a most charming dancer. Talking to him was wonderful. That’s why adults dance,” she said with authority. “So, they can have privacy when they talk. Jan explained it to me.”

Katya stare at her with awe. “Maybe you should write about the Trip. You already have all the drawings from it.”

“That is true, but that would not be as educational as a story about the Teacher-Major.” She frowned. “Wait, are we writing about a female teacher or the Teacher-Major after all?”

“I am not sure.” 

“I know,” Irina grinned. “We are writing a series, right?”

“Yes, we have too many notes for one story!”

“So, what if the Teacher-Major, after he wins the heart of the dashing Major.”

“Or the other way around,” Katya laughed. 

“Or the other way around,” Irina agreed, also laughing, “What if they go on a trip together? Like Evgeni keeps going on honeymoons!”

“That is his second, right? That is so sweet!”

They sighed again. It really was! Unlike his brother and his stupid husband, who couldn’t see how wonderful Eli was, and kept hurting him. They hadn’t even been on a honeymoon, despite being married for almost three years, while Evgeni had gone on two within three months! 

She suddenly frowned. “I think my brother is a bit of an idiot. He stays with His Majesty instead of separating him.”

“I think His Majesty really loves him. He looked at him like the Major looks at his husband,” Katya told her firmly and nodding for emphasis. “But…”

“Yes?”

“I prefer thinking about the Majors kissing than your brother. That is just weird. Your brother is someone I’ve known forever. He’s like Cousin Dimi.”

“And he’s my brother. I also prefer not thinking about him kissing.” Or doing other things that married couples did. He probably did them all, didn’t he? She shuddered. “Ewwww!”

“Yes, let’s keep thinking about the Majors.”

“They are Colonels and Counts now,” Irina said. “I should be used to it, but he was the Major for months! It’s not easy,” she smiled. 

“It doesn’t matter, as long as we don’t address them wrongly in a letter,” Katya smiled back. 

“You are so right!”

“So, Irina, finish your thought. The Majors go on their honeymoon after they become partners and… what happens next?”

“The Teacher-Major makes the best student in his class of young Ladies who are almost adults his substitute teacher for the younger Ladies. And she teaches them about equality and partnership and such things!”

Katya grinned. “I love that idea! And maybe we can also write about the Majors’ honeymoon? Where they go to a big town where no one knows them and kiss like doves all the time?”

“Yes. They live in a village, after all. They must want a change of environment.” She grinned. Like her brother; he really couldn’t stay in one place once he started traveling!

“Wonderful. Let’s finish this draft then, and send it to our Writing Tutor.”

“He may say no,” Katya told her. 

“No, he will not,” Irina assured her. “We are Two Ladies full of Very Good Qualities. And, if he does say ‘no’, we will send it to our Teacher. He will help!”

Katya nodded. “He will. Ah, he’s as good a teacher as Major Grigori.”

Smiling, they both looked over their draft. Hm, where had they stopped? 

&*&*

Grisha tried not to laugh, making him wonder what was his expression. Probably shocked! 

He squeezed Vasily’s hand. “Ah, my Vasya,” he grinned. “Go, serve your Lord.”

“Sir?” Michal asked him softly.

“Yes?”

“May I join you?”

Vasily looked at Grisha. He shrugged, so he nodded. “Of course, Michal.”

He glanced back where two soldiers were setting up their tent. “It’s so strange to have help for everything,” he whispered to Michal as they followed Yulian to where the kitchen area had been set up. 

“Why? You are a nobleman, are you not?”

He grinned, and shook his head. “No. I’m just an officer trying to do his job.”

“I’m not sure what your job is,” Michal said. “This morning, you talked of songs and made a list of which pieces would be suitable for a grant entrance, you wrote stories with Sir, and now you are going to prepare drinks for His Majesty.”

Vasily laughed loudly. “I had the same question when I got promoted, but I have come to realise that my job is solving Their Majesties’ problems. If I can anticipate them and deal with them before they become problems, that’s even better.” Making sure His Majesty was safe was his biggest and obvious problem, but he was his aide, and an aide, aided! 

Michal smiled a little. “Sir?” he asked again, expression turning serious.

“Yes, Michal?”

“When we were at Nisdruna, before leaving for home, Sir said that I could stay with him. I….”

Vasily nodded. “Yes, Grisha told me he asked you to stay and I told him that you would be more than welcome.” He stopped and took Michal’s hands in his, taking care to be very gentle. “Michal, you helped nurse to health my One and Only. I am in your debt. Do you think I would deny Grisha’s request, when I too wish to thank you? Please, promise me that you will think of our house as yours from now on. Please?”

Michal frowned. 

“Besides, it will give us the opportunity to finally built that guest room, or rather house,” he smiled as he let go of Michal and hurried after Yulian. “Cousin Mark keeps complaining about that. You know how traditional houses are at Bosilke? They are made of wooden logs cut to size. You can buy a whole lot, according to the size of house you want, hire a team, and they can assemble your house in a day! Of course, now everyone is trying to make houses of stone, because of the fire hazard that is having a wooden house.” He sighed. “I like our house, and we have created a zone around our property with no plants or trees or bushes, while one of the boundaries is a river, so it should be safe from fire, right?”

Michal looked at him strangely. 

“Sometimes, Grisha and I think we should rebuild everything with stone. Cousin Mark has suggested it, and says we should make the house bigger as well. What do you think?”

“Stone houses can burn too,” he said grimly. 

Vasily nodded. He could be patient. No one learned anything by hurrying, and he really wanted to know everything about Michal. 

“But wooden houses get burned completely,” Michal added a moment later. 

“So, two votes for the stone house.”

“What does Sir say?”

“Grisha? He hasn’t decided.” He smiled. “I think he also likes our wooden house. I so hope you will like it.” He sighed again, suddenly realizing that they probably had to check their new properties before they returned to their home.

“Sir?”

“I am beginning to realise that our lives will change when we are back. You are right; we are noblemen now. What if they give us rooms at the Palace?” he shivered. 

“You don’t want to live at the palace?” Michal looked at him as if he were very weird. 

“I will live there, if my Lord decrees it, but… oh, you will see, Michal, when we go back. Our house is not big but our garden….” He smiled. “You will love the garden, Michal. Grisha has worked so hard on it, planting everything carefully. He is so good with plants,” he said, feeling so proud of Grisha. He was just so wonderful with everything, but with plants? One might be tempted to call him a witch!

“I dreamt he was a gardener,” Michal whispered.

“He is,” Vasily smiled. “Ah, do you want to help me with the drinks? We will make a little of the adult version of the Punch of All days, if we have all the ingredients. What do you think?”

“I don’t like drinking much.”

“Then, you will have the other version, for the young people.” He smiled at Michal. Ah, how sad that young man was; Vasily felt his chest ache just looking at him. “No one should be excluded from a feast, the One Who Was My Father used to say.”

“Do you miss them? Your parents?”

“Yes,” he nodded. There was no point lying about it, especially when he knew it could create a point of connection between him and Michal. He was just so curious about this young man that Grisha had taken under his wing. “I read that people at Ustvela believe in a place where all the souls gather and reunite. Is that so?”

Michal nodded.

“Would you tell me about it? At Bosilke, the dead stay dead. Their spirits survive somewhere, but we don’t know if they meet with others of our family.” He smiled. “We try not to think about the dead much,” he whispered. “It’s bad luck.”

“But you do?”

“Yes.” He glanced around. “Maybe you can tell me about later? People are staring. Again.” He suddenly leaned even closer to Michal, feeling him tense. “Were they like this at Nisdruna, when Grisha was ill? Even after a week, I’m not used to it at all,” he half-lied whispering, trying to sound and look as bewildered as possible. Even after almost a month of people staring at him, and Grisha and him, he still found it weird, but it had become easier to ignore it. Perhaps once they went back to the Capital, and resumed their daily work, people would stop doing it.

Michal nodded and gave him a small smile. “Yes, it was just as bad.”

“Ah, how did you manage?” 

“I was busy looking after Sir,” Michal told him seriously. “I didn’t have time to care about what people did.”

“Ah, good advice,” he said, letting him go with a smile. “So, what kind of liquors do you have here?” he asked the Head Cook once he saw Yulian had finished explaining what they wanted there. “And… do you have compote?”

&*&*

Thomas nudged Evgeni slightly. “Go,” he said quietly. 

“Thomas?”

“You want to check up on Michal. I can see it,” he smiled. “Go.”

Evgeni gave him a kiss and hurried towards the Michal. The young man was standing behind the Colonel, at the other side of the dining tent, talking with General Mrishnan and His Majesty. He sighed. Ah, Genya! He really was too soft-hearted. 

He took another sip of the Punch, sighing happily. It was not bad! And… His Majesty’s Consort was alone, for a change. He hurried towards him. How strange it was to be in this little, inner court. Their Majesties were both approachable, and he didn’t have to wait for them to acknowledge him. There were so few courtiers or high-ranking officers in the camp, after all. 

“Ah, Your Excellency,” His Majesty smiled at him the moment he saw him. “How are you?”

“Very well, Sire.”

“Enjoying the Punch? Which version did you get?”

“The Adult one.”

“Ah,” he laughed, raising his glass. “I mixed the two! And so did His Majesty!” He glanced towards his husband fondly. “Ah, how pleased he was with this.”

Thomas nodded. Like everyone else, he too had seen His Majesty’s obvious delight when Lesnev had presented him with the drinks. It seemed that Evgeni’s Captain would remain in both Their Majesties’ favour for a long time to come, provided he mixed drinks for them. “Sire? May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Evgeni has been worried recently.”

“Oh, no, about what?” 

“His position. I told him that, as far as I was concerned, I would be happy if he remained in Your service, but…” He took a deep breath. “I will be moving to Bosilke, Sire, one way or another. If I move as a private citizen, I don’t think there will be any problems, but, if I am there as a member of the Valentin Embassy, would that create problems?”

The Consort looked at him. “Ah, Count Rasoulin is the protocol expect! I have no idea.” He looked around and finally his gaze settled on the Guard behind him. “Jan? Can you tell Vasya to come here?”

Thomas tried to keep himself from smiling. 

He must have failed, for the Consort smiled back. “Vasya knows everything,” he whispered as if he were sharing a great secret. 

He grinned. Oh, Evgeni’s Captain was definitely in favour. He finally felt himself relax; if Genya stayed with the Guards, he might go far. 

“You asked for me, Sire?”

“Yes. Can Evgeni be a Guard and married to a foreign ambassador at Bosilke?”

“That would be most unusual,” the Captain said after a few moments. “Wouldn’t he have duties at the Embassy?”

“I’ve managed to do all the duties that an ambassador’s partner does so far; I don’t see why that should change now that I am married,” Thomas smiled. “Unless, Engeni wants to help, of course.”

“I would hate to lose Evgeni from the Choir,” the Consort whined softly and suddenly. “He is such an amazing singer!”

The Captain nodded. 

The Musicians started playing a soft tune and the Consort smiled at the Captain. “Vasya, would you do me the honour of dancing with me?”

“Of course, Sire.”

Thomas watched them move gracefully according to the music. It was so strange to be in a place outside His Highness’ club where the dancers were men only, where no one cared one bit, and where even men who loved women were happy to dance with other men without feeling insulted or treating it as a joke. It was very strange, and most wonderful.

Ah, he really wanted to stay at Bosilke, and he would stay, no matter what His King wrote! 

His Majesty started dancing with the Colonel, and Evgeni rushed to find him.

“Will you dance with me, Husband?”

“With pleasure, Husband.” 

He took Evgeni’s hand and joined him in the middle of the area left open for dancing in the middle of the tent. “No singing tonight?” he teased Evgeni.

“Who knows?” He grinned. “Would you mind if I did?”

“Of course, not. I love your voice. Ah, Genya, will you sing to me one of the Nisari songs you love so much? Not now, I know not many speak Nisari here.”

“When we are home, I will sing as many Nisari songs as you want. Thomas?”

“Yes, Genya?”

“Have you heard back from your king?”

He shook his head, watching as Their Majesties separated from the Colonels and started dancing together. Ah, watching them together made him smile; how foolish was His Highness for wanting to come between this couple? They truly were beautiful together, one full of youth and energy, the other full of power and strength. They were magnificent.

The Colonels approached them. “May I have this dance?” Evgeni’s Captain asked Evgeni with a smile.

With a small surprised noise, Evgeni agreed.

“That leaves us,” Thomas smiled at the Colonel. “Would you like to dance?”

“Yes. I am glad to see that you let Evgeni check on Michal. The boy had missed him.”

“I am still annoyed that he lives,” he huffed, “but he did prove useful. And,” he grimaced, hating to acknowledge this, “his loss was greater than mine.”

The Colonel nodded. “So, can you forgive him now?”

“Isn’t tolerating him enough?”

The look the Colonel gave him was full of disappointment. 

“Could you forgive someone who hurt someone you trusted? Don’t ask me that.”

“Hm.”

Evgeni and his Captain separated suddenly. 

“Excuse me,” he said, and hurried towards his husband. “Genya? What happened?”

Evgeni grabbed his arm and started dancing with him as the Colonels started dancing together. “Husband. Promise me one thing.”

“Anything, Genya.”

“We will never take work home with us. Never.”

“Genya?”

Evgeni grinned at him. “Have you forgotten what I am? And don’t tell me that a diplomat is not Intelligence too. Let’s not spy on each other, Husband.”

What a thing to bring up at that point, right after he’d mentioned Evgeni’s career to His Majesty’s Consort and Evgeni’s Captain. “Genya? What are you not telling me?”

“The Captain has suggested to His Majesty that I get promoted to Lieutenant instead of Corporal.”

He stared at Evgeni. That was not just a promotion! That was a sign of favour! “That…”

“Two ranks up!” 

He stopped dancing and hugged Evgeni. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Evgeni’s expression was serious rather than happy.

“What is it?”

“The Captain wants me to become an analyst.” He stared at Thomas with his eyes wide and full of surprise. “Me.” He stopped and frowned. “Yes, it is ‘me’,” he muttered. “Me,” he grinned. “Me!”

Thomas tried not to laugh. Not only was His Majesty’s army extremely disciplined, but they were about to become the first army that would use ‘I’ and ‘me’ properly in sentences! “Why not you? You are smart, you are clever, you are good with languages, and with people.” He glanced at Michal, quietly talking to Maxim and Carel. “You managed to make an enemy spy open up to you, Evgeni. That says something.”

“I… I never thought of that,” he said, also looking back at Michal. “I just wanted to understand him.”

“And that is exactly why I want you to accept your promotion and join that team,” Evgeni’s captain said, sneaking up on them and making Thomas gasp. Where had he come from? Hadn’t he been dancing with his husband a moment earlier? “Your Excellency, may I have this dance?”

Evgeni bowed his head and went towards Maxim. And Michal.

“Your Excellency, I am glad to see how well you and Evgeni get along. He is a good man, that one. And an amazing singer. We all want him to be happy.”

Thomas stared at him blankly. Fuck, he was about to get lectured again? “Yes, His Excellency, your Husband, had made that point clear. Believe me, I want nothing more than to make Evgeni happy and always please him.”

“Good,” he smiled just a little. “Evgeni is one of my men,” he told him quietly, with the same smile. “I would not like it if anything hurt him.” He didn’t even have to threaten him with words; his smile and his eyes were frightening enough. 

Thomas swallowed hard. The Colonel really was the nicer father-in-law of the two. He stared at the man, wondering if he should tell him that he didn’t like being threatened like that, or that he understood that he was protective of Evgeni, or of course he would never hurt Evgeni. What was the best response? He was a count and a diplomat, after all; should he allow himself to be intimidated like that? He was one foreigner, in a camp full of his husband’s comrades and compatriots. “I promise, I will never hurt him,” he said firmly. 

The man smiled at him. “Good. We all want the same things, after all. Valentin is our most trusted ally. Let us work together in the spirit of peace and cooperation between our countries.”

“Why couldn’t you say that from the start?” Thomas asked him, exasperated. 

“Because you needed to know that I am serious,” he said with the same frightening smile. “I will protect Evgeni from anyone, Your Excellency.” Even you, was left unsaid. “If you allow me,” he said, nodding and bowing to him.

Thomas sighed. “Whoever had such in-laws?” Sighing even more deeply, he went to find Evgeni and his friends. And Michal. 

Michal looked at him with wariness and shifted closer to Carel. 

“Ah, Genya,” he smiled a little. “Your Captain is an interesting man.”

They all nodded. 

How could they make their marriage work? He could only see one solution. One of them had to retire and become a private citizen. Could he do that to Genya? Or worse, could he do that to His Majesty? He really wanted to keep Evgeni in his choir. 

“You look unsettled,” Maxim suddenly grinned, distracting him. “Did the Captain just give you The Talk?”

Carel laughed and Michal stared at them curiously.

“Did he?” Evgeni asked, shocked. 

He nodded.

“How sweet,” Maxim grinned. “Evgeni, Papa Bear is looking out for you.”

Carel laughed even more loudly. 

Evgeni pulled him into a hug. “He probably didn’t mean what he said.”

“He probably meant everything he said,” he snorted.

“But why now?” Carel asked them, once he’d calmed down. “You have been married for more than two months, and the Captain has been here for a whole week. What made him give you The Talk now and not earlier?”

He shrugged. “He was probably busy with other things.” Or, he hadn’t realized that he had to have this discussion with him in the first place. Perhaps he had not intended to promote Genya? Because, he was certain, The Talk was connected to Genya’s promotion. “What do analysts do exactly?”

Maxim and Carel both let out mighty shouts, drawing the attention of everyone around them. Even His Majesty’s.

“What is the matter?” he asked, looking curious and accepting at the same time. Thomas smiled; ever since his Consort and his Guards had arrived, there were several occasions where His Majesty looked like a man resigned to dealing with cute but destructive pets, amused and frustrated and unable to do anything about them but watch them do whatever they wanted. 

Maxim climbed on the table behind him. “Evgeni will pass his review! We are certain of it!” He grinned, making a lot of the younger officers and soldiers in the room whoop and offer congratulations.   
“Ah, congratulations are in order, then, Private. Or, should that be ‘Corporal’?” 

“It should be ‘Lieutenant’,” His Consort answered proudly. 

“Lieutenant?” Maxim gasped as Carel hugged Evgeni tightly. “Brother, Congratulations!” He jumped down and hugged Evgeni too, both of them squeezing him.

Evgeni lushed deeply, and lowered his eyes. “Well….” He whispered. 

“Brother, that is such wonderful news,” Maxim shouted. “Be proud and happy.” He let him go and ran to the musicians.

Moments later, they started playing a fast tune that had nothing to do with court stately formal dances. It was something suitable to a country fair, or whatever fair they had at Bosilke. Peasant music, vibrant and quick, inciting one to let go. The Consort started clapping and moments later, His Majesty joined in. 

Carel grabbed Evgeni’s arm and led him to the dancing area. “Thomas, join us?”

Without another thought, he did. So what if he had no idea what the steps were? Evgeni had asked. 

&*&*

Maxim felt someone stare at him before he felt the tug at his sleeve. He turned around and found himself staring at Michal. “Yes?”

“Do they know more dances like that?” he asked the moment the music ended. “The musicians.”

“You want to dance?”

“I want to scream with my body,” Michal told him seriously. 

Maxim winked at him. “We can do that.” He turned to Pavel and the other musicians. “Can you continue playing such dances? I think we all need a break from formal dancing.” He glanced back where the Young Lord was tapping his foot impatiently. “Even Our Lord. Ah, I know! Can you play Little Lady, Little Miss?”

Pavel smiled. “Why not? I’m also tired of playing as if we are at Court all the time. We’re in the middle of an effing field.”

“Indeed,” Alexei grinned as he plucked his lute. 

Maxim turned towards Michal. “You know this one. I know you do,” he said as he linked his arm to Michal’s. 

Michal gave him a tiny smile. “I do. Maxim?”

He nodded.

“No, nothing, forget it.”

Maxim nudged him a little. “You can tell me anything. Or, you can tell Evgeni. Or the Captain. He is good at listening.”

He made a soft sound and looked around as Maxim led them out of the tent, dancing fast. “No one cares I’m from Ustvela,” he said.

“Why should they?” Maxim asked him curiously. “The Colonel brought you here and you nursed him to health. Michal, you’re a hero! Why should anyone care that you’re not Bosilik?” He grinned as he noticed the Young Lord dragging His Majesty to the dance. “Our Young Lord is not Bosilik. Jan’s family is from Oerestand, Carel’s comes from Fladd, Evgeni is married to a Valentinois count, several of the Guards are married to Quhjani women, and men, Major Smith, who effectively runs the Reds together with the Colonel, is from Aedley…” He snorted. “Yes, you’re from Ustvela. So what?”

“Is it so easy?”

“Yes,” he said confidently. “We are creating a new world, Michal! A world where it won’t matter where you come from, where there will be no slaves, and where everyone will be equal, men and women! It will be such a wonderful world.”

Michal snorted, clearly not believing him. 

“You’ll see,” Maxim grinned. “And if it won’t happen while we live, well, change has to start somewhere. But if we don’t start, then nothing will change.”

“Is that so easy?”

“No. I think change is hard. But it must happen! So that Carel can have a female Captain, and the people of the new provinces won’t feel that they don’t belong in Bosilke, and there are women Elders at Quhjan and… you get what I mean.”

Michal smiled a little. 

“I want a better world,” Maxim told him, “so I will fight for it. With all the weapons that I have.”

“With song and dance?” Michal asked with the tiniest of grins.

“Yes! And with helping create the biggest choir ever made! Oh, how I wish that Fredrik asks for peace! Michal, we have found a thousand men, and a thousand more, and another thousand. Our voices will be louder than cannon, but our song will be sweet! Won’t that be marvelous?”

Michal still looked like he didn’t believe him, but he didn’t care. One day, they would create the world they wanted, and it would be marvelous. 

&*&*

Elik stretched out his hands and felt the fire’s warmth on his fingers. This really was no campaign; this was more like the way he’d spend the winters, but some summer nights too, telling stories deep into the night, long after dinner with the stars shining over them. “They really like Laurus, don’t they?” he whispered to Nikolaj, as Vasya told them how Laurus’ father had climbed a mountain in the middle of winter in order to surprise his enemies.

Nikolaj grinned. “They do. And…” He leaned closer to Elik. “I approved General Mrishnan’s and Grisha’s plan to send six thousand men over the mountain to assess the situation at the other end of the passage leading to Grodholm, and cover us if need be. They leave in the morning. I think Vasya is trying to encourage them that, if Servius’ men managed to do that in the winter, they will have no problems. Besides, unlike Servius’ men, they will also have our Oerestandi recruits to lead them up,” he grinned, as if he still couldn’t believe that he led allied forces to Grodholm, not just his Bosilik army.

“They really work well together,” Elik smiled.

“They do. Darling, do you think we could persuade them to work together properly? Instead of letting them discuss everything in their bedroom?”

Elik grinned. “Why don’t you order one of them transferred where the other is?” He frowned, realizing what he’d just suggested. “On second thought, maybe they should stay where they are.”

“You don’t want to lose your Lesnev?” Nikolaj laughed.

“No.”

Nikolaj held his hand. “Worry not. They work well as they are.”

He nodded. “This is as if we were on holiday,” he smiled. 

“Yes,” Nikolaj marvelled. “Perfect weather, dry roads, plenty of food, comfortable accommodation in a town every two or three days, and no resistance.”

Count Bitoulin shot them a strange look.

“I think we are not letting him listen the story,” Nikolaj whispered. “He knows it, why is he acting like this?”

He grinned. “We should be quiet. Vasya is a good story teller. I hope he also sings Us something.” What a shame that Vasya always had too many duties to sing in his choir. 

“I agree. I think Grisha would like that too.”

He nodded as he looked at them. Grisha was leaning against Vasya, his left hand resting casually on Vasya’s thigh. Watching the two of them these days had been so interesting and… educational even. Seeing them helped him understand how Bosilik couples ought to behave in public. At Ivanhof, with the Ladies and the Gentlemen having their separate courts, it was not easy to see and… 

If he were completely honest, he loved Nikolaj’s touches and kisses. Being close to him made him burn with love and intoxicated him more than wine. He wanted His Husband’s love, and didn’t care when Nikolaj touched him freely, and he touched him back. When all he saw around him were Masters fucking their slaves, and married men and women touch briefly only when they danced, and when he loved Nikolaj so much, how could he really understand what he should be doing?

Truly, only when he saw Queen Philippa did he see another way of behaving, a more dignified, regal way that was also lively and not stifling and boring. Seeing the Lesnevs together was a similar experience. Apart from the very first day they had reunited, they hadn’t kissed in public once, but they did hold hands often and, always, always, whenever they were next to each other, they touched each other slightly. They were loving but restrained at the same time, domestic even in public. 

He smiled at Nikolaj. He was certain they would find their own balance, if Luck was with them, and be regal, loving, and dignified all at once. And when they returned, he’d make sure to continue having a merged Court, like King Charles and Queen Philippa. It was more fun! 

“And so, they came down from the mountain,” Vasya said, “surprising their enemies. But that’s a story for another time.”

“Tomorrow?” Maxim asked full of hope. 

“Perhaps,” Vasya grinned. He stood up. “It is late, is it not?”

“Time for all good men to go to bed,” Nikolaj grinned as he too got up and offered his hand to Elik to help him up. 

Elik accepted it, even though he didn’t need it. How he loved Nikolaj’s hand in his! How he loved his strength. 

“We march tomorrow,” Nikolaj said loudly. “This is a war, remember?”

Everyone laughed as they stood up. 

“Ah, what a joke this campaign has become, and everyone knows it,” he whispered to him.

“I prefer this campaign than a proper war,” he whispered back. “Such wonderful, brave men. We should protect them, not lead them to their deaths.”

Nikolaj snorted. “Soldiers are meant to fight.”

He decided not to say anything. “Vasily, Vasya,” he said loudly, wanting to change the subject, “Your story was great, but it had no songs.”

The men’s laughter drowned Vasya’s little sigh, but could not cover his amused expression. 

“Indeed,” Grisha agreed with a wicked smile. “Vasily, Vasya, won’t you sing to us?”

“What do you want to hear?”

Even though the question was directed at everyone, Elik felt it was for Grisha alone. Hm, how to ask Grisha to choose?

“We would be happy to hear whatever Grisha wants to hear,” Nikolaj grinned, answering before he did.

“Husband’s choice,” Maxim shouted merrily, leading his friends to add their voices. And how many friends did Maxim have! Elik admired him! 

Grisha whispered something to him, making Vasya frown. Grisha nodded.

Vasya smiled at him. “Husband’s Choice is The Path. If you know it, will you join me?”

“Why would he choose that?” Nikolaj wondered in a small voice next to him?

Vasya started humming the song, and Elik shushed his husband. Sometimes, he found himself drifting when he heard all those war stories that were full of tactics and manoeuvres and instructions, but never during the songs. 

He joined in, singing softly, and enjoying the sound of the biggest choir he had ever heard. Thousands knew the Path, and even the soldiers who had been too far to listen to Vasya’s story were singing along. 

How wonderful it would be if they made peace with Oerestand and they never had to fight them. How wonderful it would be if they marched at Grodholm singing not one of their military marches, but a beautiful song about peace and brotherhood. In the morning, he’d ask Vasya if that would be possible. 

&*&*

When the song ended, Grigori took Vasya’s hand in his and kissed his fingertips. “Thank you,” he whispered over the sigh of a few thousand men. Idiots! When would they understand they were no romance heroes, just two ordinary people doing their work while being married?

Vasya smiled at him. “Was that to your liking?” he murmured. 

He nodded. “Yes.” He stared at Vasya’s beautiful, bright eyes. “It is one of my favourite songs. I didn’t want to remember it as what the men sang when I was being punished to let me know they supported me. This is the song you sing to me in our garden3. I want it to remain so. Thank you.”

He heard more sighs behind him, and he too sighed, frustrated. Couldn’t a man be honest about his feelings? 

“Let’s retire, Husband,” Vasya smiled. “Or they will want another song.”

“What if I want another song?”

“You do?”

Grigori nodded. “You came, and my tired heart knew joy again?”

Vasya turned towards Their Majesties. “My Husband wants another song. May I?”

“Go ahead,” His Majesty grinned. 

&*&*

Evgeni sighed, and leaned closer to Thomas. “We too must have our songs for the garden,” he sighed, sounding full of awe and admiration. 

Thomas grinned. Evgeni’s Captain knew far too many love songs for such a scary man. “Do you Bosilik like anything more than romance?”

“We like having fun,” Evgeni smiled. 

So, fun, romance, and war. Why did people say Bosilik were strange? They were just like everyone else under the sun. He smiled as Evgeni started singing along. Yes, he would manage living at Bosilke even as a private person.


	90. Chapter 90

18th 

Elik smiled at his husband. “I will be right back,” he said. 

Nikolaj grinned. “Husband, you are my Consort, you should not go anywhere. You should summon whomever you want to talk to.”

“Yes, but…” Oh, well, he would have liked it to be a surprise, but he knew that it would be impossible to hide the army practicing a peaceful march. “Yes, you are right; there is no way to keep this a surprise. Andrik, can you ask Vasya to see Us, please?”

“Darling, you don’t ‘ask’ someone to see you, you ‘tell’ them,” Nikolaj smiled the moment Andrik left.

“But it’s more polite to ask,” Elik insisted. 

Nikolaj grinned. “You are too good.”

“Thank you, I try!” He replied with a big smile.

Nikolaj leaned closer. Elik felt as if a string pulled him towards his husband. He tilted his head back and started closing his eyes, getting ready for a kiss. 

Andrik coughed loudly, and, reluctantly, he turned towards Vasya. The man was looking down and away from him and Nikolaj, but Andrik was smiling a little. 

“Vasya,” he said and Vasya looked up. “I had this idea last night. If Luck is with us, and Fredrik asks for peace, wouldn’t it be so marvelous if we marched into Grodholm singing a march about peace? And… it would be nice to have a proper choir and make An Entrance, but since I don’t think that is possible, that would be good too.”

Vasya smiled. 

“You want a choir?” Nikolaj grinned. “Darling, there’s no time for that. If we keep facing no resistance, we will be at Grodholm in ten days.” He craned his head and glanced towards the mountains rising ahead of them. “I wonder if we should send the majority of the fighting units over the mountains, and let only a few of the regiments and the baggage train take the passage to the capital,” he said quietly. “If Fredrik’s forces wait for us at the other end… we could end up trapped.”

Elik frowned. “If only we had ships,” he whispered. “Then we would have avoided the land route altogether. But….”

“Yes?”

“You saw how big the ships of the line are, and how most of the coastline is rocky and treacherous. Neither the Storjordi nor the Valentinois commanders could send a boat with their commanding officers to greet us because of the lack of natural points to disembark. I think, we would need smaller, swift ships to fight wars here.”

“Like frigates?” Vasya asked.

“Yes, maybe. I was thinking, galleys.”

“Ah, yes!” Vasya gasped with admiration. 

He saw Nikolaj frown. “Well, it’s too late for that now,” he muttered.

And, if Nikolaj hadn’t been so impatient to take Oerestand when he’d decided to do it, they would have had more artillery too. Oh, well, it was too late for that too. “Yes, you are right, Husband. So, Vasya, to return to our earlier discussion, do you think it will be possible to teach the army a few marches extolling peace by the time we are at Grodholm?”

“I am certain of that, Sire,” Vasya smiled. 

“Ah, if only we could have a choir too,” Elik smiled. “You know how they play _Hail Our Good and Mighty Sovereign_? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had a choir to sing this as His Majesty entered Grodholm? And I really liked _Long live the Sovereign_. It sounds so majestic. Ah, oh well, I know that it’s too late to ask for a choir, but a couple of marches about peace would be so good to show the people our intentions.”

Vasya continued smiling. “And, what do you think about _Brothers, the night is dark_? And _Where Justice rules, the land is prosperous?”_

“They are great songs for a choir but not for a marching army,” Elik told him. 

“Who said there is no choir?”

Elik was shocked.

“What? We have no choir,” Nikolaj gasped. 

“Yes, we do,” Vasya told them with certainty and the same, quiet smile. “Since yesterday. And with your permission, I would like to have them practicing from today.” He saluted them and headed towards the back the moment Nikolaj nodded. 

How did he know that Elik would want a choir? “He’s really a witch,” Elik muttered. 

“There are no witches,” Nikolaj snorted as he went into their carriage, Elik following him. “He’s an analyst, darling,” he said the moment the door closed behind them and they had settled, Nikolaj hugging him tightly just like he loved it. “He analyzed the situation, and expects a peaceful resolution to this campaign. In addition to that, Mark has told me he believes in the power of choral singing for raising moral and,” he grinned and his embrace tightened, “he knows you like choirs. Ergo, he made a choir.”

Elik smiled. “I so hope he is right, and this campaign ends peacefully.”

“I hope so too, but we must still be ready to fight. I think we should send most of the army up through the mountain passages.” He knocked on the door, and the moment Sergei opened it, he jumped out, calling for the Generals. 

Ah, his husband was clever. But he could not convince him; Vasya had to be a little witchy! It was one thing to anticipate his desire for a choir, and another to create one in a single day! Ah, how lucky he was that he had such a good witch by his side! 

&*&*

Michal sat facing Grigori. “Why are we moving? Where is Sir’s Husband?”

“He’s going to be busy with the choir today. And maybe tomorrow. We’ll see how long it takes him to organize them.” And probably His Highness. Prince Krzyzanowslavski had seemed in a strange mood and had retired immediately after dinner the day before, so he really expected Vasya to spend some time with him, once he finished putting the choir in shape. 

He smiled at Michal. “Do you want something to read? Or we could play cards? Or…”

Michal shook his head. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something. As you know, Sir’s Husband and I had a talk yesterday.”

“Yes, Vasya told me about it.”

“Sir, do you really have space for me? He said your house has no guest room and you would need to make one for me. I don’t want to inconvenience you, Sir. I could stay with…” He frowned for a moment. “Maxim?”

“It is no inconvenience.” Grigori’s smile widened at the sudden realisation. “We have more than one house now, Michal. I am certain that there is a house waiting for me at the land given to me by His Majesty two months ago, and another for Vasya. And we have two houses by Lake Djerem, also given to us by His Majesty.” He snorted. “Fuck this, we have become proper noblemen, and we will be moving from house to house soon. We might even get rooms in the palace,” he laughed. 

Michal studied him. “Sir’s Husband did not sound happy at the idea of having rooms at the palace.”

“No, he wouldn’t, and…” He let out a soft huff. “Frankly, it is strange for me too. We have tried so hard to make our house exactly as we wanted it, and now it feels like it is taken away from us. But that is life; we are now responsible for people and houses and lands, and we must take care of them too. And we will take care of you too, Michal. We have space, and we need to think of your education too.”/p>

Michal’s eyes widened with surprise. 

“There are no medical schools at Bosilke, as there are in the West, but one gets apprenticed to a doctor. When we are back, we will make sure that you become one of Dr Visser’s apprentices and learn medicine from him. His assistant did such a good job with Vasya’s wound, both in the way he stitched it, and the way that he treated it. Vasya didn’t even have a fever afterwards.” He nodded, wondering what had been the reason that his own wounds made him sick, while Vasya’s didn’t. What had Dr Van den Berg done that Dr Isakin hadn’t? It couldn’t be just luck. “Unless, you want to study something else?”

Michal shook his head and tears started running down his eyes. 

Grigori moved across the carriage, sat next to him and hugged him, feeling Michal relax instantly. Ah, what was he doing? Why did he feel so responsible for him? Was it because he’d never hurt anyone as young as Michal before? He was so young, more a boy than a man. 

Did it matter? Vasya would figure it out for him, if he asked, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he felt responsible for the boy, and he would do something about it. He’d taken him out of his old life, so he would give him a new one. “When we are back, we will go see all our houses and you will tell us which one you prefer for us to stay. How does that sound?”

“I?”

Grigori smiled! Someone who knew how to use ‘I’ properly! A man after his own heart; how could he not be fond of him? “Yes, you, Michal.” And once Michal was settled and his life was in order, they could give him his own house. They could afford it!

How strange it was to be rich. 

He smiled, feeling his admiration for Vasya’s strength grow even more. How easily he’d walked out of a life of wealth, and how excited he’d seemed for all the difficulties they had faced in their first years together. Where Grigori saw that he had dragged Vasya to his misery and poverty, Vasya saw adventure and fun, and kept smiling at him until Grigori too saw adversity as a source of excitement, like his Vasya.

Ah, his Vasya. 

With a sniffle, Michal pulled away from him and looked at him very seriously. “I am so glad king Francis didn’t kill you, Sir,” he said quietly. “Your Emperor holds you in such favour that he would avenge your death.”

Grigori shook his head. He was not that important. Although, he suddenly frowned. Vasya wouldn’t rest if he felt his death was unjust, and he might have been able to persuade Their Majesties to avenge him if that had happened. His Majesty was still very fond of his childhood friend, his husband had made Vasya his brother, and the army? Oh, they would do whatever Vasya asked them to do, for both of them. 

Realizing that was even stranger than realizing they were wealthy, and it took Michal to show him the obvious. They truly were in Their Majesties’ favour. That was an even bigger responsibility than being rich. How he hoped they remained worthy of such trust! “Ah, Luck was truly with us, then, wasn’t it, Michal?” he asked him softly. 

That made Michal smile a little. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Will you help me learn Bosilik?”

“Of course. Although, I have never taught it to anyone before, so we will learn together,” he smiled. “And if we struggle, we will ask Vasya. He’s a good teacher.” He had first-hand experience of that, after all.

Ah, his Vasya. 

&*&*

As their dessert was being served, Vanya took the draft, picked up the story where Leonid had left off, and finished reading it. “Maxim will hate it,” he said, shaking his head when he was done, and sat down to finish eating his pudding. 

“Worse, the Captain will hate it,” Peter the Tall said. 

“How do you know that?” Stepan asked him. 

“Because I served under him before.” He turned towards Osip. “You were there too. Speak up.” 

Osip nodded. “Yes, the Captain will not approve of a manual that is so…” he frowned. 

"It makes bad behaviour look fun,” Sila said. “Especially with a character like Maxim, who is just so … you know…”

“Likeable?” 

“And fun?” 

“And charming?” 

“And generous?” 

“Yes, especially that,” Cornei laughed. 

“We should be writing a manual that makes people behave properly because that is the right thing to do, not one where the main character is having so much fun breaking all the rules, you also want to have fun,” Peter the Tall said once they had quieted down. 

They all looked at each other. 

“So, we will write a manual with the Captain and his husband? They are both keen on proper behaviour.” Asei grinned. “Do you remember your interview for joining the Guards? Ah, how scary he was, telling me that if I were selected to become one of His Majesty’s Special Guards, I would need to behave with even greater decorum, because I would be representing both Bosilke and Their Majesties.” 

“Yes, a proper soldier behaves with decency towards everyone, because he represents his country,” Vanya said. 

“And the Special Guards,” Roman added, “are not just soldiers. No, we are diplomats, serving our Lord and our Country, by showing how just and proper we are.” 

“And making people trust us and our Empire with our behaviour,” Vanya said. “This manual is fun, but…” He shook his head. “It will not do. Brothers, we must start again.” 

“And what about this one?” 

Sila grinned. “This one? We will make one copy for the Captain, one for our library, and one for Maxim. It is a good story, Brothers, it should not be thrown away.” 

“But why give it to the Captain?” 

“Or Maxim?” 

“Oh, I meant the other Captain, Captain Grigori.” Sila grinned. “He will enjoy it, and I am certain that Maxim will like it too, if he knows that no one will see it.” 

Leonid snorted. “I bet the Captain thought the same when he got the first story that Her Excellency wrote, yet look where we are now. We have one Team writing about the Majors discussing a battle from our glorious past on a Trip, another writing about them and their men hunting wolves, and now it seems that we will write the Manual of Military Etiquette with them as main characters. I think we should not keep many copies of this draft. Or at least, give a copy to Maxim and one to the Captain’s husband for fun, but let us not keep one in our library, Brothers.” 

“Can we get a copy for the Chancellor?” Filon asked. 

“Yes, that might make him read the thing!” Artyom grinned. 

“Actually, Pavel might need a copy,” Simeon laughed. 

“And Duke and Duchess Andrejevich,” Flor agreed with a chuckle. 

“I would like to request a copy for Baroness Sheremeteva,” Damian said a little shyly. 

“I thought you were fucking her for work,” Leonid smirked. 

“No, that is why I tolerate her slave-owning habits. I fuck her because I like her, and it would be nice if she knew what I do!” 

“You like her, or her fortune?” Lev grinned. 

“Nothing wrong with that either,” Damian said with a smirk. “She’s young, she’s lively, and she’s a childless widow,” he told them all. “I don’t have to share her with a husband, or a child and…” His expression softened. “I do like her.” 

“Brother, you’re in love,” Vanya laughed. “Congratulations.” 

“We can’t all find nice Quhjani boys,” Damian said. “We must look closer to home for our partners.” 

“Why boys? The women are nice too,” Samuil said. 

To Roman’s surprise, half the Guards snorted or laughed. 

“No offense, Brother,” Filon said, “but Quhjani boys are the nice ones. Look at Stepan.” 

Stepan blushed deeply. 

“That’s what I mean,” Filon continued. “Tell a Quhjani woman she’s nice, and she’ll probably hit you for insulting her.” 

Vanya started laughing. “She might, but what’s wrong with that? Quhjani are strong women; they don’t need to be told they are nice.” 

“Partners should not hit each other,” Stepan said firmly, but quietly. 

“Sometimes they do,” Filon smirked. 

“The Chancellor has corrupted you,” Sila grinned. “Good for you! We should send him a gift on your anniversary.” 

“Yes, what would he like?” 

Artyom and Filon exchanged a look and they both started laughing. 

“I am not sure I want to know,” Vanya chuckled. “But you are right, Cousin Stepan. Partners should not hit each other. Unless they both consent to it.” 

“Especially Special Guards and their partners. We must be models of good behaviour, Brothers,” Pieterjan said. 

“Speaking of models, until when will be running around naked in the garden? It is getting colder in the morning,” Avros asked them. 

“Oooh, you’re getting cold?” Sila laughed. “Don’t let the Captain hear that. Either of them. They might make you jump into a river in the middle of the winter.” 

“Or stand under a waterfall,” Cornei said. 

"Speaking of which…” Bram said… “I think the Captain must be big.” 

They all turned towards him. 

“Eh?” Leonid finally managed. “You have been thinking about that ever since you saw the Captain’s brother?” he laughed. 

“Well… a man can be curious, right?” Bram said, grinning. 

“And how did you come to that conclusion?” Filon asked. 

“Because, even under the waterfall, his package is impressive.” 

“Perhaps it runs in the family. The Chancellor is very gifted,” Artyom whispered. 

“But His Majesty is the Most Gifted of them All!” Luca said, shaking his head. “I could never.” 

Yuri nodded. 

“I wonder if the Young Lord and he are in good terms,” Peter the Short said with a tiny sigh. 

“Yes, he was so miserable when he left,” Stepan told them softly. 

They all nodded. 

Vanya stood up. “Brothers, let us ask.” 

“What?” 

“Send a message to the last station using the torch system, and ask them to pass on our question to the Young Lord.” 

“That is abusing military resources,” Roman told him. 

“It’s for a good cause.” 

“And no one knows that he’s there.” 

“Not yet, anyway,” Sila grinned. “Do you really think it will be possible to keep the Young Lord’s appearance at His Majesty’s camp a secret for long?” 

“I wonder how he will explain that he didn’t get hurt,” Stepan whispered. 

They all made a sound of assent. 

“So, we are in agreement? We will make a few copies of this story for our courtier lovers who are in the army but have no idea what that means, and some of the Ladies too?” 

“Yes,” they all laughed and shouted. 

“Great,” Filon said. “Raise your hands so we know how many we need.” 

Roman was surprised to see Stepan raise his hand. “You have a courtier lover?” he said, hurt. 

“I liked the story,” Stepan smiled at him. 

“That settles it,” Vanya grinned. “Copies for everyone!” 

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” 

“And we will ask how the Young Lord is doing?” 

“Yes!” 

“And now we will go back to work? We are having another long lunch, Brothers.” Roman shook his head, smiling. 

He saw his brothers stand up reluctantly. 

“Till dinner, Brothers,” Vanya said. 

“Till dinner, Brothers!” 

&*&* 

Prince Krzyzanowslavski still looked tired, making Vasily feel badly about not spending much time with him the previous day. “May I ride with you?” 

“Of course.” He grinned. “You expect Fredrik to surrender?” 

“Or send his messengers and ask for peace. How wonderful that would be,” he said as he settled in the seat facing the prince, and his carriage started moving again. 

"I am looking forward to hearing the choir properly. It seems like you already have a programme?” 

“We do. Oh, it will be so wonderful to have them all singing. Maxim and Carel managed to find almost four thousand singers. They are such capable young men! Ah, if we have peace, and we can have the choir singing in one place, instead of while moving, they will sound magnificent!” 

The rince smiled. “I am looking forward to it. Only a fool would prefer war to peace.” 

“So true. Your Highness, I need your help.” 

“What is it?” 

“The Ustvelan troops will worry if you do not join us after dinner. Please, is there a story you would like to hear tonight?” 

“Is that your work? Storytelling?” 

Vasily grinned. “My work entails many things but right now, I am on leave and I do enjoy telling stories in my free time. Do you have a favourite one?” 

“I have several, but I would rather hear new stories. But why would our troops worry if I am not there?” 

“Because you are His Majesty’s Special Envoy. They feel responsible for your well-being.” 

“Ah,” the prince gave him a little smile. “Then I shall attend the festivities after dinner. You are all on holiday, are you not?” 

They both laughed. It felt like it, but for him the best part was that he was on holiday with Grisha. 

“Actually,” the Prince said, “I too feel responsible for the Ustvelans under my command, and those of my country who are here. What are your intentions towards Michal, my dear friend?” 

Vasily huffed. “They are most honourable, Your Highness.” 

He laughed. “Oh, I know that. But he is still a citizen of Ustvela. When we first arrived here, I thought that he wanted to report to your husband about the mission, and that was why he had joined us. Instead of letting him be with the other Ustvelan soldiers, though, you have taken him in your custody. It makes one worry. 

“He is not in our custody. He is free to do as he pleases. It seems that he wants to be with us.” He smiled a little. “If it will ease your worry, I will arrange a meeting between you and him so you can ask him if he would rather stay with the Ustvelan detachment.” 

“Thank you.” 

“But you must promise me that you will respect his decision, the same way that we will respect it. We all want what is best for him, after all.” 

“Do you? Taking him away from his comrades?” 

“As I said, he is free to do as he pleases. No one forces him to stay with us, and, frankly, you are the first of his comrades to worry about him. None of the Ustvelan soldiers has approached him these days. But you are right; he is under your command, and you must talk to him. Grisha and I will accept whatever Michal decides to do.” 

“Thank you.” 

Ah, how he hoped that Michal decided to stay with them. Grisha was quite fond of the young man. 

The prince’s expression softened for a moment. “And what is your opinion on the matter? Your husband brings home a stranger and you just accept it?” 

“He nursed my husband, and so I am in his debt. Of course, I will accept it. Besides, Grisha wants to support this young man, and I always support my husband in his endeavours.” 

“That is not your opinion. These are not even your feelings on the matter. That is your behaviour.” 

“My opinion is….” He thought about it for a few minutes. “My opinion is that Grisha is a good man who wants to protect and support those who need his support. If he wants to support Michal, then Michal must need to be supported. And…” he smiled a little. “Michal is in pain. I cannot see that and ignore it.” 

“Even if he is a stranger?” 

“If we were kind to our friends only, the world would be a most miserable place.” Besides, any stranger could become a friend. 

“I see,” the prince smiled. “But shouldn’t one be kinder to one’s friends than to strangers?” he winked at him. 

“How you like to tease me. To Grisha, the young man is no stranger. And he did help Grisha. Rest assured, Your Highness, if Michal stays with us, he will be treated as a friend, and we will support him.” He suddenly grinned. “Wouldn’t it be strange, and extraordinary, if he stayed with us, and returned one day to Ustvela as Bosilik ambassador?” 

“It would be,” the prince laughed. “Is that your plan?” 

“Oh, no. It was just a thought. Let us wait until we know where Michal wants to stay. Promise me that you will support him in everything he does if he decides to stay with the Ustvelan detachment. He has no friends nor family and… I know he’s no courtier, but for the sake of the friendship between our families, please, show him your friendship and support. He is a good and decent person.” 

The prince studied him. “I will, I promise you this. And, will you, for the sake of the friendship between our families, do me a favour?” 

“Yes?” 

“Please, can you say a story without battles tonight?” 

“That I can do,” he smiled. “Maybe one with a romance?” 

“And songs too!” 

“Hm, I wonder…. When we stop at the next town, I will also prepare a special drink to go with the story! Do you have any preferences? It will be in your honour, after all.” 

&*&* 

Nikolaj frowned suddenly. 

“What is it, Husband?” Elik whispered to him. “Is Vasya’s story not to your liking?” 

“No, the story is good.” It was nice to hear a romance for a change. “It’s just…” He huffed. “No one has really explained to me who this Michal is!” 

“He’s Grisha’s nurse,” his darling smiled at him. 

“Yes, I had seen him nurse Grisha at the hospital with my own eyes, but no one really explained to me how he got to be there. They mentioned that he’s failed Ustvelan assassin? So, how he was recruited by Grisha? And…” He leaned closer to Elik. “Darling, do you think they want to take him to their bed? They are both keeping such a close eye on him!” 

Elik stared at him. “Husband, I am certain that is not the case. Vasya is mad about his husband.” 

“Hm. Who can tell me more about him?” 

“I can, Sir,” Carel told him. “But not when the Captain is telling a story. That is rude!” 

Nikolaj started laughing. Ah, what was happening to his army? They were all… He suddenly stopped laughing, realising at the same time that Vasya had stopped speaking and everyone was looking at him. 

“Husband?” Elik asked him with obvious worry in his beautiful face. 

He stood up. “Gentlemen,” he said loudly, “What an army you are! I am so proud of you.” 

Everyone started cheering for him and he sat down again, grinning. 

“Husband?” 

“I just realised the obvious. My army now is not the one I had ten years ago. During the last three…. No, four campaigns, there have been no reports of pillaging, robbing, or raping the defeated. If there have been some, there were isolated phenomena. Husband, We have an army that is formidable in battle and full of dignity at peace. And how quietly this happened, that I didn’t notice,” he smiled. 

“It’s all because of the Young Guard,” General Mrishnan told them proudly. “They wanted an army that was different and they have achieved that.” 

“How?” Elik asked. 

“By being the commanders that they wanted to have when they were younger.” 

“Sire?” General Davin asked quietly as Vasya resumed his story. “We must have schools so that all our soldiers know how to think. The march ‘I learn how to use I’ has a point.” 

“That we need to learn how to use ‘I’?” He asked cheekily. 

“No, that a soldier that thinks can serve his army better. Obedience must not be blind.” 

His Generals grinned. “Obedience should be based on trust and sharing common ideals,” General Loviljin said finally. 

“Isn’t this something to discuss when we are home?” 

“Yes, when this campaign is over, let us think again how to make our army better,” his darling added, making him happy. He liked it when Elik took his side. 

“Of course, Sire,” General Davin said, bowing his head. 

Nikolaj smiled. “I want to have the best of Armies. General Loviljin, is it true that Laurus’ army was so disciplined that they only pillaged one city, and that only after they received command that they had to do it?” 

The general nodded. 

“Hm. It is too late to fix these errors of the past, but from now on, I want my army to continue being as disciplined as that of Laurus, so that one day, they will not speak of Laurus’ army as the most orderly, but of mine! I will beat you, Laurus,” he shouted, making the men laugh. “I will,” he said even more loudly. “With men like you, and your commanders, is there a doubt that you will become an army more formidable than any other in the world?” 

“Ah, to have an army so strong, that no one will dare mess with us,” Grisha said, his voice almost drowned under the cheers of the soldiers, Vasya nodding beside him. 

“Is that what you want?” Nikolaj asked them. 

“Yes,” Grisha said passionately. “An army that will be our Wall against others, and who will help our people without being ordered.” 

He smiled. What a lofty vision. He liked it. “Let us discuss this more, once the campaign is over,” he told everyone brightly. “Ah, to have a living defensive wall. What an idea. What a brilliant idea.” Who would be stupid enough to attack an unbeatable army? No one. 

What an idea, indeed! 

&*&* 

Maxim approached Michal the moment he saw him get out of the prince’s tent. “Do you want to scream with your body, friend?” he smiled at him. Everyone was still dancing, after all. 

“Not now.” Michal frowned. “Maxim?” 

“Yes?” 

“I just told His Highness, Prince Krzyzanowslavski, that I would rather stay with Sir.” 

“And you have second thoughts?” 

“No, but…. I feel like I betrayed my country. I should want to go back, shouldn’t I? Yet, I feel glad to be here and….” He sat down and looked up at the stars. 

Maxim joined him. 

“Sir said he will help me become a doctor.” 

“He did?” Evgeni said, hurrying towards them with Carel. “That is wonderful, Michal. I am certain you will be a wonderful and most caring doctor.” 

“Thank you. It’s still weird,” he sighed. 

“It will be fine,” Carel told him. He sat next to Maxim. 

“Your family came from Fladd, I heard?” 

Carel glanced at Maxim and nudged him. “By this man here? Yes,” he grinned, “Half my family is from Fladd, originally.” 

“How was it, leaving your country?” 

“I can only speak for my father, you understand. He was a merchant and… one summer, he fell in love with a maiden at a fair, and couldn’t go back.” Carel smiled. “He still misses Fladd and when he hears that I was there, but did not try to find our relatives, he will be very disappointed, upset even. But he likes it at Bosilke. And he likes my mother.” He grinned. “Moving to a new country is easier when you have family there.” 

“Ah.” 

Maxim hugged Michal. How could anyone look so miserable all the time? Poor man! “You have a family here too, Michal. You have us,” he said and Evgeni and Carel nodded immediately. “And I bet that the Colonel also sees you as his family.” 

“Perhaps even the Captain,” Evgeni said. 

“Yes, you made drinks with him!” Maxim gasped. “That’s what you do with family!” 

“So, don’t worry. We will help you,” Evgeni added. 

“If you don’t believe me,” Maxim said, “Why don’t you ask the Captain for a song? If he likes you, he will sing it for you.” 

“He sings for everyone.” 

They all shook their heads. 

“All these days, he's been singing for his husband,” Evgeni said with a sigh. 

Michal frowned again. “Why is everyone sighing the moment Sir and his husband touch? Have you never seen married couples before?” 

Maxim started laughing. They really were becoming ridiculous, but they couldn’t help themselves. The Captain and his husband were just so sweet to watch! How loving and tender and passionate they were. 

“Not like them,” Evgeni answered with a fierce blush. 

Carel nodded, and he too reddened. 

“You are weird,” Michal muttered. 

Maxim studied the young man. “Hm. Your hair is dark, and you are a little cynic. Are you sure you are not the Colonel’s secret love child?” 

“What?” Michal screamed and hit him without any force on the arm. 

Maxim stood up and stuck his tongue out at Michal. “What a violent man you are,” he mock-complained. He ran behind Evgeni. “Save me, Genya.” 

Evgeni snorted as he got up. “You deserve it for teasing our Michal.” He grabbed Maxim and trapped his arms behind his back. Maxim laughed, since Evgeni’s hold was really loose. “Ah, you mean man,” Evgeni shouted. “Michal, how shall we punish him?” 

Michal studied them. “We should…” He huffed. “I don’t know.” 

“We could tickle him,” Carel grinned, digging his fingers in Maxim’s sides, and making him giggle. 

“No, no,” Maxim cried out. “I don’t deserve this punishment,” he said, escaping Evgeni. He ran to Michal and knelt in front of him. “Forgive me, kind Sir!” 

“If you won’t, we will tickle him,” Carel laughed. 

“Save me,” Maxim grinned, staring at Michal. “Please?” 

“I will if you apologize.” 

“I do, I do. I am so sorry for what I said. Now, will you forgive me? Please?” 

Michal snorted. “Fine, I do.” 

“Shame, I was having fun,” Carel chuckled. 

“I wasn’t,” Maxim half-lied. 

“What should we do that is fun, then?” Carel said. “Should we play for trifles? The dining tent is a gambling den at this hour. Should we go there?” 

“Moon, how you shine,” they heard the Captain start a new song. 

“And the singing and dancing group is still by the big fire,” Evgeni grinned. “We could join them.” 

Maxim offered his hand to Michal. “What do you say? Shall we dance, kind Sir? I owe you a dance, since you saved me from their cruel hands.” 

Evgeni and Carel snorted. 

“I’m in favour of cards,” Carel said. 

“I’d rather sing,” Evgeni told them, humming the song. 

"Michal?” 

“Let’s go dance.” 

Maxim bowed to him a little. “Let’s. Have you told the Colonel that you’re staying with us?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Then, let’s go tell him.” 

“Yes, he will be so glad.” 

“Truly,” Carel added as he moved away from them and towards the dining tent. “See you later, Brothers.” 

“Later.” 

Evgeni grinned at Michal. “We must ask for a livelier song, though. What do you think?” 

“I agree,” Maxim said. 

“Something fast, like Little Lady?” Michal asked them. 

“Exactly.” 

Maxim smiled. It was hard being in mourning, but he wouldn’t let Michal get lost in it. No, they would all keep him to the side of he living, and not that of the dead. 

&*&* 

Grigori settled in Vasya’s arms. “I am so glad that Michal will stay with us.” 

“So am I. His Highness asked me, what are our intentions towards him. Husband, what are they?” 

“I don’t know. There is no need to use him anymore. I just want to help him, Siuta. I am to blame for fucking up his life.” 

“But, Grisha, if you had not fucked up his life, what would the alternative be? He would have fucked up mine, and everyone else’s.” 

“Eh?” 

“He was sent to kill you. If he had been successful, then his life would not have been fucked up, but mine…” Vasya sighed as he trembled and hugged him more tightly. “I feel a little glad that you did what you did. I am sorry. That is such a selfish and ignoble thought.” 

Grigori smiled. “But that’s in the past, right?” 

Vasya nodded. “Tomorrow, I was thinking of taking Michal around as I am working with the choir. Since he will be staying with us, he should start meeting more people. I would like to take Maxim too. That man has so many friends!” 

“Yes, that is a good idea,” Grigori smiled. If Vasya had ever been upset or offended by what Michal had done, he’d truly had forgiven him. How kind his husband was. “I am teaching him Bosilik, so maybe you can help him with that?” 

“Of course. While I am busy with the choir, maybe you can spend some time with the Prince? And we should make more of an effort to get him to talk over dinner. He’s keeping himself apart from everyone.” 

“Siuta, you worry about him?” 

“A little.” 

He nodded. It was no hardship talking to a man who had known Vasya’s parents. It was an opportunity. “And when you are finished with the choir, maybe we can work on our story?” He caressed Vasya’s chest and let his hand rest over his heart. “It is so…” What was the right word? “I like hearing your thoughts and learning your feelings.” He smiled. He had no idea that Vasya had been so stunned to hear someone tell him off, nor that he had thought him handsome from the very first time they’d met. “We will have no secrets left by the time we finish it. Won’t that be wonderful?” 

“It will. Ah, Grishka, remembering how I fell in love with you, makes me fall in love with you again.” 

“And it makes my love for you grow deeper. Siuta Vasiuka?” He asked as he sat up. 

“Yes, Grishka Grishuka?” 

“I want to feel something else grow deep inside me,” he grinned. “Will you fuck me, Husband?” 

“With pleasure, Husband.” 

He laughed. “Vasya, my Vasya, how I love you.” 

&*&* 

Elik burrowed in his husband’s embrace. Oh, how loved and safe he felt in his husband’s mighty arms. “My Nikolaj?” 

“Yes, Darling?” 

“Can we play Count and Stable hand tonight as well? Please?” 

“Yes, we can,” Nikolaj laughed. “When Sasha is back, We will ask him to write more stories for Us, what do you think?” 

“Yes, that would be wonderful. So, do we continue from where we left off yesterday?” 

“Darling, yes! Wait, wait, let me get the flowers!” 


	91. Chapter 91

19th 

“We would like to see Michal,” Nikolaj told Yulian. “Please, summon him.” He turned at Elik. “Husband, I hope you do not mind if he rides with us. I have some questions for him.”

“No, not at all, but…” Elik’s expression was soft and hopeful. “If you ride with Michal, then maybe I can spend some time with Vasya? I have some ideas about the choir.”

Nikolaj grinned. “Of course, My Love. You should do what pleases you.” And he was curious to see with what ideas his darling would come up. Oh, he really had a love most musical and so talented. 

With a smile and a nod, Elik left him hurriedly. “Andrik, where is Vasya? Vasya!”

He tried not to laugh. If Vasya weren’t Vasya, he might be worried; so attached was his love to him. And Vasya to Elik. What had happened in those long months of the trip to the West to make his darling chose Vasya as his family? Not that he minded; not when he too had his Vasya back. 

Ah, what a complicated Inner Court they would have when they all returned home. 

Yulian saluted him. “Michal is here, Sire.”

“Thank you, Yulian.” With a smile, he switched to Valentinois. “Michal? Please,” he said as he climbed into his carriage. 

Michal following him inside, but not before he cast a backward look; whatever he saw, made him nod and step up. 

Yulian closed the door and he studied Michal. The young man looked even more glum and withdrawn than he remembered. Understandable. “When My Most Noble Mother died,” he told him, “I did not want to speak to anyone for days.” Only duty and his friends had managed to get him out of his room and do what he had to.

Michal stared at him. “I am sorry for your loss, Your Majesty,” he finally said.

“And I for your loss, Michal. Tell me, is there anything I can do for you? You have helped us greatly.”

“Thank you, but I need nothing.”

“The Colonel will take care of you?” he said, trying not to grin. 

The young man nodded with a serious expression. 

“Yes, I can believe that,” he smiled. “May I ask, why did you decide to come back here? I am certain that your king would have been pleased to have a man as loyal as you in his service.”

Michal snorted. “After I betrayed my commander and my former king? Sire, I am still a traitor. Where else could I go but here?”

“Anton has not pardoned you?”

Michal shook his head, but his expression was resolute. “No, and I do not care. When I chose to follow Sir, I knew I would be leaving my old life behind. I only cared about …” He suddenly sniffled lightly, and looked outside for a few moments. “That life is over now,” he said quietly.

No wonder Grisha liked him. He was such an honest and serious young man. “You will have a new life here. This I promise you.” He smiled. “Would you like to join Our army?”

“Thank you, Sire, but I would much rather study medicine.”

“Ah, yes, that is a worthy goal and a good profession. Tell me, does the Colonel approve?” he grinned.

“He does, Sire.”

“I am glad to hear that.” He smiled. “Come on, tell me, there must be something I can do to reward you. Would you like your own house?”

“No, thank you, Sire.”

“Why not?”

“I…” Michal looked out again. 

“You can be honest with me, Michal. Whatever you say, it will be our secret,” he encouraged him. 

After a few moments, Michal gave him a little nod. “Sire, the Colonel said he will take care of me, and I believe him and trust in him, therefore, I have need of nothing.”

“You trust in him, even though he hurt you?” That was the thing he could not understand and what he’d really wanted to ask ever since Carel had told them the whole story. 

“Yes, Sire.” He stayed quiet.

“How? I am sorry, I do not understand.”

Michal stared at him. “He hurt me, but he was honest about it. He didn’t trick me, or hurt me needlessly. He did what he had to do, because that was his job, and he never told me a lie. With Sir, I know where I stand, and what to expect. When my former commander said that the army was my new family, he lied. But when Sir said, ‘you have a home with me’, he meant it, the way he meant it when he said ‘answer me truthfully or I will hurt you.’ When I lied, he hurt me. When I spoke the truth, he did not. Genya too. He was honest with me. He wanted to know why I did what I did. And he listened. He really listened.”

Nikolaj smiled a little. Just like his army, his Intelligence was not what it used to be. But it seemed that it was effective. What a strange world this was becoming. “I see. Thank you for explaining this to me.” 

Michal nodded. 

“I do hope you will be happy here,” he said, smiling at the sound of the men marching to an Oerestandish song. “Our Empire is changing, and We are looking forward to seeing how it will become.”

“You too believe in change? Maxim said he wants a new world, where everyone is free and equal. Is that your vision for the Empire too?” 

Where did Maxim get his ideas? His freedom-loving darling or his freedom-loving chosen brother? Those two were influencing each other, though, didn’t they? Ah, truly, had he known what ideas his Own Consort had…. He grinned. He had known, he’d disapproved, and yet had not managed to change his love. No, his love had managed to change his ministers, his officers, his courtiers, his soldiers. And they had changed his love, and made him find his place at Bosilke. “I just want….” He pointed out. “What do you see?”

“The sea, and the mountains.”

“Bosilke has no sea, nor many mountains like that. Oh, yes, we have mountains as one goes north, and we have a port that is frozen for eight months out of twelve, but Our land is different. I want access to the sea, and make Bosilke a land as prosperous as that of the countries of the west.”

“And what about freedom?”

“You can’t have prosperity without free people, so I want freedom too. Although, between us, the idea that women are equal to men? That is strange! Really strange.”

“Why? My Mama did everything as well as my Father. Better even, because she raised me as she was teaching and managing the school, while he only taught. Women can do anything men can do.” Michal smiled a little. “It took Maxim’s words to remind me that I already knew that such a changed world was possible. It would be nice if this were the place where the change started for everyone.”

“Your Mother must have been a wonderful person,” he said honestly. 

“She was,” Michal said solemnly and sighed. “I miss her so much. Even when I was at Krzydzov, I missed her, but I knew that I would find her home whenever I took my leave. Now, there is no more home and no more…” He stared at him even more miserably than before. 

He nodded. “I too felt that when my Most Noble Mother died, even though I had a home. She would be the first person to greet me whenever I returned from a campaign.” 

“Mama would make me potato and sausage soup whenever I came home.”

Nikolaj snorted. “Sorry, sorry,” he added quickly when he saw Michal narrow his eyes and look at him angrily, “it’s just that Grisha and Vasya are mad about potatoes.”

“Potatoes are tasty,” Michal told him very seriously, as if he were still insulted. “And you can make so many things with them.”

“Yes, Grisha has told me that already,” he smiled. “You know, if you told Grisha, or Vasya, that you would like potato soup, they would make it for you.”

“It won’t be the same.”

“Yes, but…” Nikolaj looked at the young man sympathetically. “When My Most Noble Mother died, my best friend told me this. To cherish the memories I have, and live my life, for She would not want me to lose myself in grief. I agreed with him.”

“Sir’s Husband told me something similar. To remember her as much as I can, because as long as we remember, our dead live with us.”

Nikolaj shivered. Weird, how weird Vasya was. 

“I wonder if that is why he is writing his stories,” Michal continued softly. “Because they have no one to remember them.”

Nikolaj shuddered. “He has friends. And relatives.”

“But Sir and he have no children. Sir told me that, when his husband was young, his father and mother had told them their stories. To whom will he tell them?”

Nikolaj took a very deep breath. “I too have no children.”

“Why not? Sir and his husband only have stories to tell. You have an empire! Are you not worried what will happen to it? And what about your vision for it? To whom will you leave your empire?”

Michal seemed even more worried than his darling about the fate of the empire! He looked at him sternly. “Aren’t you being a little too honest and bold with me, young man?” he chided him. 

“You like honesty, don’t you? Then you must accept my honesty too,” Michal told him both proudly and matter-of-factly. “Or, were you been lying to us all at Nisdruna? You punished Sir because you thought he lied to you, and now you want me to lie to you?” Michal snorted. “I will not.”

It seemed like the Lesnevs’ weirdness was contagious. Or they attracted people who were like them, irreverent, yet honest and loyal beyond any doubt. He smiled. “We would not like you to lie to Us, Michal,” he said, smiling at him. “Nor anyone else, for that matter.”

“Good,” Michal said emphatically.

Ah, after Honest Valery, he’d have Truthful Michal, it seemed. He grinned. “Do you have any other truths for Us?”

Michal stared at him. “Not now,” he said after a few minutes. 

He tried hard not to laugh. “Fine. Would you like to play cards?”

“Why not? Sire, will you help me practice Bosilik? I will make this land my home, and help it change into a land better than my country.” He looked like he was about to spit on the floor. 

“Of course,” he replied in Bosilik. What an Empire he would have. Ah, fuck, he really had to discuss the question of his heirs with his darling seriously and without further delays if even a boy out of Ustvela’s countryside like Michal could see what a problem his succession posed.

&*&*

Elik looked at the men marching and singing _Providence has brought us here_ , an old Oerestandish hymn. Like Maxim’s mysteries, he thought not to ask. But he was curious, he was.

“What do you want to ask, Brother?” Vasya asked him with a small smile. 

“You are no Choir Master. How could you make them sound so… choir-like?” They were far from perfect, but with practice, they would perform so well. He knew it!

“I am no Choir Master, but I know how to train soldiers. Grisha has taught me well. Ah, he is so good at training men! Sire?”

“Yes, Vasya?” 

“When we are back? I know I shouldn’t ask, but… Oh, Sire,” he told him looking even more stressed than when he’d asked for his dogs, “Grisha and I would like to take the Guards on a training trip. It will not be possible to take all of them, of course, but maybe we can split them in two groups?”

Elik grinned. “You want to take my brothers on a Trip? Oh, I have heard so many things about them, but no details. What happens there, Brother?”

“It’s just a training trip,” he said, sounding modest. 

He would get the details out of someone, if not Vasya! He could wait. “If His Most Wise and Noble Majesty permits it, you may go. Vasya?”

“Yes?”

He sighed. “His Majesty.”

“Yes?”

“He…” He took a deep breath. “He seems to have changed and he pleases me greatly,” he said, feeling his cheeks burn for a moment, “And I want to trust him, but what if he does it again? What if he renounces me through his actions? We promised each other to use secret phrases but…”

“Why don’t you pinch him if you want to be even more discreet?” He grinned. “When you pinched me, it hurt.” 

Yes, he could try that. He smiled. “Did it work?”

Vasya nodded. “Yes. I have learned my lesson, and I will always trust you, Brother.”

“Good.” He noticed that the men finished their song. “It would be nice to have the choir sing this while everyone does something…. Else?” It was a beautiful hymn but he wanted something more dramatic. 

Vasya frowned for a moment. “What if….” He guided his horse close to Elik and leaned towards him. “I just had a thought.”

Oh, what? He nodded, eager to listen, and determined to talk to His Husband about Vasya’s leave. The man was not on leave; he was busy being his Master of Ceremonies again. These days had to count as work, right?

&*&*

Grigori closed his eyes for a moment, listening to Vasya and His Majesty start another march. “Did he inherit his love of music from his Father?” he asked the prince a moment later. 

“Both.” He smiled. “They were both very musical and often sang for their guests. Pavel’s voice was also beautiful, though deeper. He was a most powerful bass, while his mother had a lovely contralto voice, if a bit weak.” He sighed. “What a shame they are not here to hear him.”

Grigori shrugged. It wasn’t Vasya who had turned his back on his family. 

“Ah, friend, I need your help,” the prince suddenly told him. 

“What may I do for you?”

“I have been thinking about this for some time now, long before I knew whose son my dear Lesnev was.”

Grigori felt a chill down his spine. He could feel their lives getting more complicated. 

“As you know, I have no children, only a few ungrateful nephews who care neither for art nor history.”

He nodded reluctantly. 

“I would like you and my dear friend to become my heirs. I would like to adopt Vasya and give him my title and possessions. It might mean little to you, an Ustvelan princely title, but it would mean so much to me if you helped me persuade Vasya accept it.”

Grigori closed his eyes for a few moments. “I doubt Vasya will want to leave His Majesty’s service,” he finally said, looking at the prince again. 

“What does he gain by it? Or you? Neither of you care for possessions, or titles.”

Grigori let out the tiniest of snorts. And yet, there was Prince Krzyzanowslavski offering a title and possessions to his Vasya, despite knowing that he cared little for such things. “We vowed to be loyal to Our Emperor. We cannot break our vow.”

“Would you at least ask him, before rejecting my offer on your husband’s behalf?”

“I am not rejecting it. I am saying that he will.” He smiled. “But I will talk to him.”

“Thank you. Ah, life is so precarious. I had never realised how close to death we all are until my arrest. I don’t want my cameos to fall into my nephews’ hands.”

“It is bad luck to speak of such things.”

“We will all die, some sooner, others later.” He looked outside. “Look at these men. They live because this war is not a war.” He turned towards Grigori. “And we live because we were lucky.”

“Even so,” he agreed, “possessions…” He stopped. 

“Yes?”

“I was about to say that possessions are meaningless, but I guess not,” he smiled. He had just realised what Vasya was doing all this time. Like a man condemned whose time was limited, he was putting his affairs in order and leaving his possessions to his heirs. And what possessions did Vasya really have but his stories? What was truly his of all the things he owned? 

He sighed. Whatever had happened to him at the Reds’ Barracks was more serious than he’d thought. 

“Your Highness, Vasya and I have no heirs. Your title will die with us. Better to leave it to one of your nephews, or adopt someone worthy to be your son. And your cameos…” He smiled. “Vasya spoke of museums. If you gave them to him, they would not be passed on to a person, but will become the possession of the world.”

The prince stayed quiet. 

Ah, he really had to talk to Vasya. Not that he could tell him much but…. Their carriage started slowing down. 

“Why are we stopping?”

“I have no idea.”

A few moments later, Vasya knocked on the door and opened it. “May we join you?”

“Of course,” smiled the prince. 

Vasya climbed in, Michal behind him. 

“What happened?”

“I got worried that His Majesty would get sunburned, so I ordered the carriages stopped so he could go ride in his.”

The prince looked stunned for a moment, and Grigori smiled. Vasya took his duties as aide to His Majesty far too seriously. A little sun wouldn’t hurt him. 

Michal smiled a little. “Your job is dealing with many strange problems.”

“Indeed,” Vasya grinned. “Should we play cards to pass the time? I asked Jan and Maxim to keep an eye on the choir.”

Grigori glanced at the prince, who looked pensive. 

“You really care for His Majesty’s well-being, not just his safety.”

“Of course. He,” Vasya’s expression softened. “He is my King. I will stand by him, and never betray his trust in me.”

Grigori smiled. And they called each other ‘brothers’, but clearly that was either too great an honour for Vasya to mention, or too private a matter. 

“So, you would never consider moving to another country.”

Vasya glanced at Grigori. Ah, those useless plans of theirs. “We did,” he said after Grigori nodded. “But our place is where Their Majesties are.”

“And you are not afraid of how fortune brings one man up, only to lower him? In your place,” the prince said, “I would retire from public life now, before the wheel of fortune turned against me.”

Grigori frowned for a moment. Was that what the prince himself had done? Abandoned public life and service to his king to pursue a life full of art before he lost his king’s favour?

“Although,” the prince suddenly grinned, “leading a private life did not protect me much these last months.”

“I am so sorry,” they said at the same time, and Vasya smiled at him, and nodded.

“If we hadn’t bothered you, your private life would have remained private,” Grigori told him.

“Perhaps, but that is done and in the past.” He smiled ruefully at Grigori. “But I see that you were right, my friend.” He looked at Vasya. “I wanted to ask if you would accept being adopted by me, but it seems that there is no point in asking.”

Vasya gasped. “Why?”

“Because, it seemed to me that you are a man in need of a family, and I am a man in need of an heir I can trust with my property.”

Vasya touched Grigori’s hand as he smiled at the prince. “Your Highness, you have been my most cherished friend for years. It would have been such an honour to be allowed to call myself ‘your son’, but we have vowed to serve Our Lord. Furthermore, the Empire is changing. I want to help it change.” 

“You really think it will change?”

“Everything does,” Grigori said confidently. “So why not the Empire?”

“Ah, youth,” smiled the prince. “Full of hopes, and thinking of the future.”

Grigori smiled. They were going to talk ancient philosophy now, weren’t they? 

“No, not youth,” Vasya told him. “Maturity. The age where hope is tempered by practicality, and when men and women do their best to make their hopes come true.”

“And your hope is for a new Empire,” the prince smiled, clearly not feeling like talking ancient philosophy any more than Grigori did.

“Yes.” Vasya and he said at the same time. 

“Yet, who but youth would come up with a plan as audacious as what you came up with?” the prince smiled at Grigori. “And would be impetuous enough to implement it?” he smiled at Vasya.

“The plan was audacious, but it was one born of desperation to keep our alliance with Ustvela,” Grigori protested. 

“Youthful hope combined with folly,” the prince smiled kindly. “No matter how much you deny it, you cannot persuade me that it was anything but that. And it succeeded,” he said. “You, young men, brought hope into the heart of our most youthful Sovereign.”

Vasya looked at him. “Are we really that young, Grishka?” he smirked. 

“It seems so, Vasya.” He laughed. 

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Vasya said quietly. “Maybe we should play cards now?”

Grigori nodded, smiling at Vasya. 

The prince handed a deck of cards to Vasya. “Indeed, let us play, Dear friend, if you will not accept my family, will you at least accept my cameos?”

“It is bad luck to discuss this now.”

“You Bosilik and luck,” he smirked. “Who knows how much time we all have. Say you will have them, and let me enjoy them in peace while I have them. I swear, that was my only worry while I was kept at the Old Castle. That King Francis would take them for himself, even though he does not care for art.”

“Does it matter that much what happens to them once you are gone? A dead man has no need of cameos, or things in general. Why not let concern for things fall to those who will inherit them, and enjoy them while you have them?” Grigori asked him. 

“Young man, don’t you know that old men care about possessions?” the prince grinned. “They are cautious and parsimonious, and that is their nature.”

“Not philosophy again,” he muttered.

The prince laughed. “I just want to know that they will be appreciated after they are not in my care. I do not see myself as an owner, but as a custodian of things. Wouldn’t it be a shame if they were dispersed, or kept locked in a room where no one will see them?”

What a pointless thing to worry about. Noble people and their concerns, he thought, smiling as he saw Vasya nod. 

“Still, wouldn’t it be better if you taught one of your nephews to appreciate them?” Vasya looked at the prince seriously. “Your Highness, one of them will inherit your title. Teach your heir how to care about your collection. Without education, how can one know what is important?” 

“You think that everything can be fixed with education? My nephews had the best education that noble boys could have, yet none of them can be made to care about the past. They do not care, even though they were taught ancient history and poetry and philosophy. Ah, if owning cameos became fashionable again, then perhaps they would care. Dear friend, please, tell me you will accept them when the time comes.”

“But we have no heirs either. Passing the cameos to me will not mean that they will not suffer the same fate you fear.”

“I am certain you will find a better solution than me,” the prince smiled. “You and your husband. You put a rightful king on his throne; you will figure out what to do with a few gems.”

How determined that man was. Grigori nudged Vasya. “His Highness will insist until you agree. He is as stubborn as someone I know,” he smiled. “Tell him ‘yes’, so we can actually play cards.”

“Ah, is that your professional opinion?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Then, Your Highness, I will accept your gift since my Husband agrees to it,” Vasya grinned, looking at Grigori.

The prince sighed deeply. “Are you sure you don’t want to be the next prince Krzyzanowslavski?”

“Quite certain, Sir. I cannot serve both Ustvela interests, as I would be expected as your heir, and my king.”

“Unless you had a position as Special Bosilik envoy to the Court of King Anton.” The prince smiled. “I shall ask Their Majesties about that possibility.”

Vasya glanced at Grigori, looking as surprised as Grigori had felt for a moment. Ah, truly, His Highness was as stubborn as his Vasya. He shrugged. “I will go wherever my Luck takes me,” he whispered. “As long as we are together. If Their Majesties want you to serve their interests at Krzydzov, I will follow you.”

Michal sighed.

“Not you too,” Grigori laughed.

“But, Sir, you have your men, your career, and the Emperor’s favour, yet you would put these aside for your husband? Now, I understand why everyone sees you as romance heroes. And they are right,” he said loudly. “You are.”

Grigori coughed loudly, seeing how Vasya was looking out of the window as if he wanted to jump out of their moving carriage and was calculating the possibility of doing so successfully and without injuring himself.

“You are right, Michal,” Vasya suddenly said, as he turned to face the prince. “My Husband has his men and his career. I cannot force him to abandon them. Your Highness, please, do not ask Their Majesties if I can become their special envoy at King Anton’s Court. I cannot ask Grisha to make such a sacrifice for me.”

“You could both serve as special envoys,” the prince insisted, smiling at them. “Yes, I will ask them at dinner.”

“Can we play cards?” Vasya whined. 

“Can I ask why you want Vasya to join you at Krzydzov so badly? You act like a father who has found a long-lost son?”

Everyone gasped at his words. What? It was the truth!

“Of course, not,” both Vasya and the prince said at the same time. With a nod, the prince allowed Vasya to continue. “I was born two years after Father returned from Krzydzov, so that is not possible. As far as I know,” he said with a momentary frown.

“No, you are not my son,” the prince said, “but Zinaida was the only woman I ever loved in my life. And… Pavel, the only man. I have lived so many years hoping I could find someone like them, and now fate has brought you to me: you have your father’s musical talent, your mother’s looks, and my love for art and respect for the past. How can I not want to have you as my own, when you are exactly the child the three of us would have had if our Luck were different? If your own father denied you, then let me be the father who will embrace you.”

Vasya looked horrified. He slid to the floor and touched the prince’s knee. “My dear friend, what if I prove as disappointing to you as I proved to my father? I will not survive the shame. Please, do not ask me this again.”

The prince started crying. “Why do you ask this of me? At least, let me embrace you as the child I never had and think of me as your father, since you will not accept to become mine by law. Rise, my son.”

Vasya got to his feet, sat next to him and they embraced, the prince not letting go of Vasya. “How could you think you can disappoint me?” he cried.

Grigori sighed. Ah, he couldn’t wait to reach the point in their story about Matveev and tell him what he’d done. Perhaps then Vasya would understand that he had not disappointed his father. 

He glanced at Michal, who was staring at them with a wide-eyed, stunned expression. “You never are too old to miss your family,” he told him softly.

Michal sniffled and Grigori opened his arms for him. Poor child; he would fix his life. That, he swore.

“Who kneels like that?” Michal suddenly asked him in the softest of whispers. 

“A man who knows how things were done in the past,” he replied just as quietly. It had been Vasya, after all, who’d shown him how courtiers would prostrate themselves in front of the Emperor until the reign of Ivan IV, a gesture he’d found useful when begging His Majesty to punish him instead of his Vasya. 

“I thought you wanted a new world.”

“A new world without place for tradition would be a poor one.” 

Michal studied him as he let him go. After a few moments, he nodded. “We will not play cards, will we?” he muttered. 

Grigori looked at the prince, still hugging his husband as if he really was his father. “No,” he smiled. Two of their quartet had other priorities. 

&*&*

Elik listened to His Highness’ request with a calm expression, making Nikolaj feel so proud of him. He really was not the young man he had left at Jedlowa anymore. 

When the prince finished, Elik turned towards him. 

“We would like to consider this carefully,” he told the prince. “But we promise to give you Our answer soon.”

“Thank you, that is all I ask for.” With a bow, the prince went out of their tent.

The moment he was out, Elik grimaced. “I don’t want them to go to Ustvela,” he said, sounding very much like the young man he had fallen in love with, proud and certain of his own worth. “Special envoys or not.”

He nodded. “I don’t want them to leave either,” he said. He needed men as honest as the Lesnevs, and…

“I’m not even sure if Krzydzov will be safe for them,” his darling continued more quietly, his words echoing his thoughts. “King Francis may have been put to confinement, but what of the men loyal to him? What if they found the chance to hurt Grisha or Vasya for their plan once they were there?”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing,” he said. “Ideally, they should never step at Ustvela again.” 

Elik nodded. “So, should we give him our answer after dinner?”

“Let him wait a few more days. Darling?”

“Yes, Husband?”

He smiled. “I love you so much.”

Elik hugged him. “Do you want us to be late for dinner?” he whispered in a low, arousing voice.

“No, but how I wish it,” he smiled, not letting him go. Whatever Mark had done to help his love regain his pride and become more than his sweet bedmate and ornament of his court, had worked so well. He had to think of a suitable reward for his friend.

But that was a thought for later. That was the time for dinner, and then music and stories. How glad he was there was no resistance!

&*&*

Elik watched as Grisha and Vasya joined them in the area designated for dancing and, a few moments later, Maxim led Michal to the same area. 

“Michal told me something interesting this morning,” Nikolaj suddenly told him. 

“Yes, Husband?”

“For whom are we working if we have no heirs?” Nikolaj smiled at him. “You are right, my Love. We must decide what to do. Perhaps tomorrow, if there is no resistance, we can start talking about it seriously?”

Elik took his husband’s hand and kissed his fingertips. Finally. He may not have been able to give his husband a child, but he would not be the one whose name in the Chronicles would be The One Who Ended the Line of Vassa. 

Though, why did it take a stranger to make his husband realise that? Did his husband trust Michal more than him? 

Or…. He smiled at Nikolaj. Grisha was so right; his husband was slow to grasp things that mattered. Now that he knew that, he would patient with him, because he was good. 

Ah, his Nikolaj. For such a clever man, he could be so stubbornly dense, but Elik would help him! He’d be the best husband and first mate a Captain ever had. 

&*&*

“You were right; the prince had an affair with my parents,” Vasily told Grisha as they continued dancing. 

“And I bet that he did ask if you could serve at King Anton’s court as special envoy. He looks a little smug.”

Vasily glanced where the prince was seated and nodded, agreeing with Grisha. “I would never serve there without you as my equal. I meant it, Grishka. I would rather resign than make you destroy your career. Our army needs you, Husband.”

“Perhaps I want to retire and be nothing but your husband,” he grinned. 

Vasily smiled. “You would be bored. Admit it.”

“Perhaps, but I am not the one who still struggles with life.” Grisha looked at him seriously, took him by the hand and led him out of the tent. “My Siuta, you still care too much,” he said as soon as they were out and started walking among the soldiers playing cards or music or speaking around the camp fires. 

“Grisha?”

“Writing your stories, sharing your recipes, acting as if you are about to die and you want to make sure your things will go to your heirs. What does it matter where things go when we are dead? It only matters when you have ties to this world.”

Vasily nodded. “You are right. I deserved to die for my treasonous words, and I was ready to die. Since I was given a reprieve, I realised that I have to pass on what I know. My Grishka, you are right; I am tied to this world through bonds of love. I want Her Excellency to have her stories, His Majesty to have our story, and my brother to have the story of the family that once was mine.” 

He sighed full of wistfulness. “I wonder if Sasha will be kind enough to let me visit my former home.” He turned and hugged Grisha tightly. “I would like to see it once more before I die. Even more, I would like to show it to you. You have never seen the Stanjisnki ancestral home, only our summer estate, yet that was where I spent most of my time.”

Grisha rubbed his back soothingly. “That matters so much to you?” he asked him softly. 

“Yes. I never said my farewell to it, nor asked for forgiveness from Those Who Were My Honoured Ancestors. I would like to go once more, show it to you, and then present you to them. Then, that life will be truly over.”

“Will it?” He smiled as he let him go and they started meandering once more in the camp. “My Siuta, you are still a Stanjinski, can’t you see that?”

He was still a Stanjinski? Could one still be what one had been told he wasn’t?

“You are, or His Highness,” Grisha continued, “would not try so hard to take you back with him. I just…”

“Yes?”

“I…” Grisha studied him for a few moments. “I was worried that you were still caught in this life of struggles, but now I see that you truly live by your principle of absolute Love.” He smiled at him. “How can I help you?”

“You don’t believe in it,” Vasily smiled back, “You still believe in perfect peace.” 

“Perhaps, but you are my Husband and I love you and I want to help you. Also, I am curious to see if your path of Love will lead to Peace before the path of abandoning all concerns and struggles,” he grinned. 

“Grishka Grishuka, the road to Peace should not be a competition,” he mock-chided him. 

“Siuta Vasiuka, everything is a competition with us,” Grisha laughed.

He was tempted to playfully hit Grisha’s arm when a song caught his attention. It sounded proud, full of martial vigour. “What is that?”

Grisha frowned. “A song?”

“Yes, but… do you know it? I like the music.”

“No. Let’s go hear it better,” Grisha smiled at him. “It sounds Oerestandish, doesn’t it?”

“I think so.”

“Yes, it is,” Grisha muttered a moment later. “I agree, it is interesting. Do you want to use it somewhere?”

“Me?”

“I, Siuta, I! Argh, not you too!”

Vasily broke into a loud laughter before running towards the group of Oerestandish men singing that song that had captured his attention. 

“Siuta, you fucking tease,” Grisha laughed behind him. “I will so tickle you when I catch you, you fucker!”


End file.
